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“Yes,” the two of them snapped at the same time.
“Are you sure?”
Hunter wasn’t, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit as much. Truthfully though, he was torn. Everything he was feeling was a mixture of good and bad, making it next to impossible to sort any one emotion out from the other. Some moments he was grateful he was safe and warm and fed. Others he hated himself for feeling that way. For giving in.
Sometimes all he could think about was Odin’s mouth on his, on his body, the feel of him pounding deep inside, hitting that spot that he liked so much.
Sometimes he wanted to slit the guy’s throat for keeping him here and forcing his hand.
It was…unsettling to not understand his own mind. To be so unsure of himself and his thoughts and feelings. That was probably the worst part of it for Hunter. Odin was no longer the boy he’d known as a young adult, and yet…There were times when he still saw that younger version in him. And, really, it wasn’t entirely his fault they were here either.
It was Isa Frost’s.
“You’ve forgiven him for almost killing you in the forest?” Wren asked.
“Yes,” Odin claimed, but Hunter almost snorted derisively.
He hadn’t. He’d merely shoved his anger aside since discovering that Hunter was a Whisper.
They’d spent every night together for weeks now, neither of them pushing the other away for the first time since they’d met again, and it was intimate. But they weren’t close. They didn’t share whispered words of comfort or romance in the dark. Odin hadn’t told him he even liked him, let alone that he loved him. It was always just claims of ownership.
Did Hunter even like him? He liked his dick, certainly. If someone told him that cock had brainwashed him into complying with all of this, he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. But…
For ten years he’d carried the guilt over what had happened in the forest like a weight. Half the time, it was that keeping him awake at night and not the image of his sister’s dead body discarded like trash in some abandoned warehouse or on the side of the road.
Odin Snow had been good to him back then, better than anyone else had, and Hunter had tried desperately all this time to push those recollections aside. Tried not to remember how much he’d cared for the other man. It’d been so much more than a crush. More than sexual attraction.
“You keep looking at me like that, Huntsman,” Odin whispered then, cutting into his thoughts, “and I’ll strip you down right here and now, whether Wren stays or not.”
He blinked and pulled away, shaking free of that hand on the back of his neck. Glowering at him for a second, he turned back toward the other Dominus who was still watching them closely from across the coffee table.
As soon as their eyes met, Wren nodded. “I see.”
“See what?” Odin stated, but Hunter knew what he meant.
Wren had figured out that Hunter was foolishly falling for Snow, and that he hated that he was.
There was no logical reason for it. Odin had been nothing but arrogant and aggressive and a complete and total asshole, and yet…Hunter was worried hearing that he’d been harmed by Isa. He was worried hearing that Isa might try and harm him again. It would be easy to try and convince himself it was because he needed Odin alive to stay safe, and part of him wanted to hide behind that. If this had only been last month, he would have. But something inside of him had changed that night they’d mated.
Hunter didn’t want to hide from himself anymore. It was already exhausting enough doing so from the rest of the world. That was why he was struggling so hard to sort through his feelings. Not so he could share them with anyone else, but so that he could at least look himself in the mirror without flinching away.
“Not everything has to make logical sense,” Wren told him, the words meant for Hunter. “Some things are just out of our control. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I feel disgusted,” Hunter said without thinking.
“Why? Because society says you should be?” He crossed a leg and stretched his arms over the back of the couch. “Fuck society. The straight and narrow is boring anyway. Live a little, Thorn. What do you have to lose?”
Now? Nothing. Hunter had nothing left, he’d even given over himself already. A mating bond between a Shout and a Whisper was forever. They could separate, of course, with little to no repercussions, but he’d know they were connected, no matter how far he ran. His blood wouldn’t be as potent to other Shout’s—which he didn’t care about, at all—and Odin would lose his power boost, but they’d be all right otherwise.
That was the logical repercussion.
The illogical one?
If Hunter hadn’t been able to shake Odin from his system before, there was no way he was going to be able to do so now after everything they’d been through.
He’d trapped himself just as surely as Snow had trapped him. Hell, he’d tossed away the key.
Actually, there was one thing he had to lose after all.
