Page 98 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Rory trilled a goodnight of his own.

Rory woke up feeling warm and… different. It took him a long moment to realize it was because he had two arms and two legs. His eyes flew open. He’d never shifted in his sleep before, and he’d certainly never plastered himself over someone else, nestled against their back with a leg slung over their hip, one arm tucked against their back and the other stretched over their shoulder.

This was apparently exactly what he’d done on this occasion, though, and he could only be relieved that Max was at least wearing pajamas. Because rebirth still meant that Rory came back into this world with nothing but himself.

His attempt to carefully untwine himself from Max only succeeded in waking the other man, who made a grumpy sound of protest and then froze.

“Sorry,” Rory said hurriedly. “Sorry, sorry. I shifted in my sleep.”

Max had drawn clear lines, and Rory had inadvertently obliterated them.

Rory was jostled as Max suddenly twisted, turning around so that he was facing Rory—so that he could fling himself at him, wrapping his arms and legs around Rory.

“Oh, thank god,” Max breathed against his neck, sounding desperately relieved. “You’re alright.”

Still not totally sure about the protocol when he was naked and he knew Max didn’t like to be surprised with that, Rory nevertheless hugged Max back. If his mate was in distress, then Rory wanted to reassure him above everything.

“I’m fine,” Rory promised. “I’m regrown enough to take human form, apparently, but I was fine before that, too. I regrow quickly, but it’s still not instantaneous after a rebirth.”

Max pulled back a little to gaze into his eyes and then leaned in again to kiss him. Rory fell into the lush heat of Max’s mouth and the call of Max’s emotions. This felt a bit more like reassurance and affirmation than anything overtly sexual.

When Max needed to breathe, he drew back and leaned his forehead against Rory’s.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he breathed.

“I think that’s my line,” Rory said, trying for humor and only mostly succeeding. “You don’t know the panic I felt when you were stabbed.”

“I think we need to have a conversation about that,” Max told him.

Rory had been expecting it since the moment he’d acted—but he’d do it again in a heartbeat, no matter what the outcome was, as long as Max was okay.

“Yes, of course,” Rory agreed. It was clearly past time for all of this to be out in the open. “But are you alright?”

Max nodded. “Yeah, healed good as new. I clearly don’t know anything about what you can do, but it feels like you healed the physical and mental trauma.”

Rory nodded slowly. He’d never thought of it quite like that. “Yes, that’s a good way to think about it. It’s as close to a full reset as you can get without rolling back time.”

“I have so many questions,” Max told him. “But do you think you could put clothes on?” Max requested. “You’re kind of distracting like this.”

Rory laughed. “Yes, I definitely can. Although I might take a shower first. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely.” Max smiled. “I mean, I tried to keep you clean, but with the amount of hot sauce you were guzzling, it was a losing battle.”

Rory straightened his shoulders and attempted a haughty expression. “I’m a growing phoenix. I need fuel.”

Max rolled his eyes, though he looked slightly stunned. He’d surely worked out what Rory was, but maybe it was still a little different to hear it confirmed for certain.

Rallying, Max observed dryly, “Unless your fire is literally fueled by hot sauce, I can’t imagine there’s any reason why you needed to consume so much.”

Rory laughed. “Nothing quite so straightforward as that. Just give me a few minutes.”

Max checked his watch. “Take as long as you want. It’s just after eight, so there’s time. I’ll make coffee. Just let me go pee first.”

“Sounds good,” Rory agreed.

Max tossed Rory’s robe at him as he passed the bedroom door, where the two robes were hanging on a hook, then headed into the bathroom. Rory pulled it on, wrapping it carefully around himself. Max had bought him one of those fuzzy, plush ones that was super cozy and felt a bit like being wrapped in a cloud. Rory loved it.

When Max emerged from the bathroom and made a beeline for the kitchen, Rory headed in, used the facilities, and then turned the water as hot as it would go before climbing in and luxuriating in the heat. It wasn’t quite as good as the heat of flames, but it was much more practical in this setting.