Page 18 of Dance in the Stones

Redford’s breath hitched. “By the stones, you’re incredible.”

Damon’s hound wanted to prance and dance around, so happy at the praise, but he needed that claim more, so he stayed as still as he could.

Bending over, Redford looked deep into his eyes as his big hands stroked over the side of the hound’s jaw. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “Because once I do this, I’m not letting you go. Ever. You understand that?”

Damon huffed, nosing at Redford’s hand. Yes. Finally.

It seemed Redford was the one with shaking hands now, but the hound pretended not to notice as Redford lifted the collar out of the box. The gems seemed to glow brighter as he raised the collar into the air, and when he placed it around Damon’s neck, the leather warmed as if the whole collar was alive.

The ends snapped together with a solid click, and just as quickly, Damon felt their bond snap into place.

It felt like coming home and falling off a cliff at the same time. Suddenly every cell in his body knew exactly where it belonged as the new connection flooded through him. He could feel Redford’s emotions, his acceptance and relief. And Damon felt as though his soul was reaching back with equal force, binding them together until the end of time.

Mine, his hound rumbled with satisfaction.

Ours, Redford’s gargoyle seemed to answer, though the words came through the bond rather than through sound.

Damon shifted back without meaning to, overcome by the need to hold his mate properly. To kiss him. To…

He barely managed the transition before Redford’s arms were around him, Redford’s mouth was on his, and the collar had indeed transformed into a thin necklace of jeweled links that warmed against his skin.

“Mine,” Redford breathed against his lips.

“Yours,” Damon agreed, pulling him closer. “Forever.”

“What the hell is all that noise?” Redford suddenly shook his head as the pack all chimed in with their congratulations.

“Welcome to the pack, mate.” Damon was still grinning when their lips finally met. “You’re one of us now.”

Chapter Eight

Redford pulled back just enough to look at Damon properly. The thin jeweled chain caught the light, winking with dozens of colors against Damon’s throat. His mate. His gorgeous, ridiculous, patient mate who’d been waiting just as long as Redford had.

“The collar’s only the hellhound half,” Redford said, his voice rough. “To complete the bond, I have to claim you properly.”

Damon’s eyes darkened and seemed to glow. “What does that mean to a gargoyle?”

“It means I have to touch you. Every part of you.” Redford’s gargoyle rumbled with anticipation. “It’s the gargoyle’s way. We know from the first touch when a mate is ours, we cement our claim by touching our mate all over. To claim you, I need to touch you, and learn every inch of you.”

“Oh.” Damon swallowed hard, the chain moving against his throat. “That sounds...”

“It’s meant to be very intense.” Redford cupped his face. “Is that okay?”

The hound’s growl vibrated through Damon’s chest. “It sounds like the best part of claiming to me. If you don’t get me to a bed in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Redford didn’t need to be told twice. He bent and lifted Damon into his arms and carried him down the hall to Damon’s bedroom. The door barely closed behind them before Damon was tugging at Redford’s shirt, yanking it over his head as Redford set his feet on the floor.

“I’ve been wanting you for a week,” Damon muttered against Redford’s mouth. “And you’re still wearing too many clothes.”

“So are you,” Redford shot back, working at Damon’s jeans. “Don’t ever think you were the only one wanting.”

They stripped each other with fumbling hands and breathless laughter, clothing landing wherever it did, because who cared. When they were finally bare, Redford pulled back again, this time to look at his mate properly.

Damon was stunning. All thick muscle and pale skin. His dark hair was mussed, his lips already kiss-swollen, and his eyes, which were tracking Redford’s every breath, seemed to glow.

“Bed,” Redford ordered, his voice coming out more growl than words. “Now.”

Damon climbed onto the mattress, moving with that liquid grace that made Redford’s mouth go dry. When he stretched out on his back, arms loose at his sides, Redford had to take a moment to steady himself.