When Dane pulled away from the kiss, Lindsay looked around. The room was filled with books, a
wardrobe, a desk and an old iron bed. There was no light in here, no warmth except for a glowing heater
tucked in a corner. Snow was rattling against the windows and the roof, and the wind wailed around the
corners.
It was so different from the room they’d given to Lindsay. Where Lindsay’s room was furnished and
ornate, with a large fireplace to keep it warm, Dane’s was spartan. It was definitely Dane’s, though.
Lindsay’s room could have been mistaken for anyone’s—there were no personal items but his clothes. In
Dane’s room, the books and the furniture had obviously been gathered over years, each thing kept because
it mattered. And here Lindsay was, with all the rest of the things Dane wanted to keep.
Dane peeled off his coat and shirt at once, the fabric tearing as he shrugged out of it and tossed it into
the corner by the door. His bare skin was marred with twisting new scars, knots and ropes that were slow to fade. He shook back his hair—something about the shifting had left it clean—and reached for Lindsay
again, as though he was unwilling to stop touching even for a moment.
Lindsay still had blood on his hands and clothes from when he’d touched Dane before they escaped,
but he didn’t care. The blood was Dane’s, so it was as good as clean.
He stepped into the circle of Dane’s arms and Dane ran his hands up and down Lindsay’s back. He
wasn’t kissing yet, it felt like he was inspecting what was his. He growled and bit Lindsay under the ear
with a hot, sucking kiss that was all sharp teeth. Lindsay shivered, his head dropping to the side to bare his neck for more.
Dane bit him again and this time, as he did, his claws cut through Lindsay’s clothes. There was no
method to it, just his hot mouth on Lindsay’s throat, claiming it for his own, and his claws shredding fabric until the pieces fell away. As eager as he seemed to get Lindsay bare, his claws never left a mark on
Lindsay’s skin.
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Lindsay wasn’t even cold anymore, especially when Dane’s fingers slipped between his thighs.
“Please?”
“Anything.” Dane was so incredibly good to him.
“Keep touching me?” That was all Lindsay wanted. He needed to be touched so he could have the
reminder, again and again, of what it was to be Dane’s.
“Come to bed.”
The bed frame was old iron, but the mattress was soft when Lindsay crawled onto it, and the covers
were filled with down, as were the pillows. The sheets were white cotton, cold with the winter chill.
Lindsay curled up on them and then stretched out, feeling the smooth fabric slide against his skin. Dane
shed the last of his ruined clothes and crept into bed next to Lindsay, pulling the blankets over them both.
Lindsay rolled over to face Dane, his cheek tucked against the crook of his bent arm. Dane didn’t pull
Lindsay into his arms, but lay there a moment instead, just looking. Even without being touched, Lindsay
felt warm and content. Dane had brought Lindsay to his space, to his bed, because Lindsay was his too.
Lindsay was still vibrating from the adrenaline and the drugs, and his head ached, but being in the haven of Dane’s bed was enough to soothe him.
Dane traced Lindsay’s features with a fingertip and put his finger under Lindsay’s chin, tilting his face
up for a kiss on the mouth. It was chaste and tender, like this was the first time.
Then he rolled Lindsay onto his back and kissed him down into the pillows. Dane’s body was so
warm against his own cool skin. Dane lifted his head and petted Lindsay’s hair. He kissed Lindsay on the
forehead, once, warm and gentle.
“Mine,” he said seriously.
“Yours.” Lindsay hadn’t known enough to want it, but now that he had it, he didn’t want to give it up.
The faint gray snow light from outside and the glow of the heater gave enough light that Lindsay
could see the tenderness in Dane’s expression. He reached up to cup Dane’s cheek in his hand and brushed
his thumb along Dane’s jaw.
Dane lay back, coaxing Lindsay up to straddle his hips. Lindsay was still a bit sore, but by the time he
was settled with his hands braced on Dane’s chest, he was happy with the view. How had he managed to
get so lucky? Wanting Dane, wanting sex, hit him all in a rush and Dane had to be able to smell it thick on the air.
“Tell me what you want.” Dane smiled when he said it, showing Lindsay a flash of sharp white teeth.
“Don’t you know?”
Dane laughed. “I like hearing it.”
“I want you,” Lindsay said. “I want whatever you’ll give me, whatever you’ll let me have. I want to
give you what you want. And I want to make you come.”
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“You can have all those things.” Dane’s voice was rough. “What I want is you, any way I can have
you. I want to hear you come, watch you come. I want to watch you be alive.”
“I’m alive.” Lindsay leaned in to kiss Dane on the mouth. “I’m alive. Thanks to you.”
“That’s what I want most.” Dane cupped Lindsay’s face in his hands and kissed him hard and deep.
Lindsay wanted Dane now. He had no idea how he’d ever managed to be patient before. He licked at
Dane’s mouth and his jaw, working his way under to lick the tender skin of Dane’s throat. He might have
been on top, but he knew how to be submissive nonetheless. Dane’s groan was proof enough that Lindsay
had learned well.
“I want.” He nipped to punctuate his demand and got a low rumble from Dane. “Fuck me.”
“Anything,” Dane said again. “You want that, go get the silver tin from the right-hand drawer in the
desk.”
In the drawer, on top of an old pistol and a cigarette case, Lindsay found the tin and turned to hold it
out.
Dane was leaning on one elbow watching him, smiling, and Lindsay caught a glimpse of something in
a mirror that stood in the far corner of the room. The person in the mirror wasn’t thin and bent anymore,
and not a boy, either. The person there was tall enough to be a man and lean but not thin. He seemed
healthy, and there was enough light from the window on his face that Lindsay could see that he looked
happy.
“That’s what I want. Come to bed, little bunny.”
Lindsay took one more look at himself, at the young man who seemed so surprisingly strong, and then
turned away. Dane was waiting for him. Laughing, he ran across the room and jumped into bed, making the
frame groan.
“Not so little anymore,” Lindsay said, pushing Dane over on his back and crawling on top of him.
“No.” Dane let himself be moved and fell into the pillows, still smiling. “Not so little anymore.”
Lindsay dipped his fingers into the tin, finding something inside that felt like thick cream. It smelled
of beeswax, but Lindsay didn’t investigate further, setting the tin aside instead. He found Dane’s hard cock, still ready for him, and stroked it, getting a delicious noise from Dane.
“I want you,” Dane murmured.
It wasn’t as though Lindsay couldn’t tell, but Dane was saying it because he knew how much Lindsay
loved to hear it. “Did you…before you told me?” He stroked a while longer, reveling in touching Dane so
intimately. If he hadn’t been giddy with relief and success, he wouldn’t have asked, but Dane had said such sweet things already that it made him bold. He wanted to know so much, to hear Dane say it.
“Yes.” Dane’s voice was rough with need and it made Lindsay shiver. “Even when you were angry at