Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ward hadn’t moved all night. When the sun broke across the lake, he found himself wrapped around Viper under the furs.
The memory of the kiss yesterday still lingered on his lips.
He shifted his legs carefully and adjusted his morning wood, because Viper’s hand was dangerously close to brushing off it.
Before anything happened with their dicks, he was going to need another of those mindfuck kisses and maybe a dinner or two.
What startled him most wasn’t that they’d kissed—it was that for the first time in forever, he hadn’t woken up with the tight-clenched panic in his chest. He hadn’t dreamt of the volcano exploding or buried stone prisons.
He didn’t think he’d dreamed at all. From how rested he was, he thought he might have just.. . slept.
I never just sleep.
Now we’re at two nights in a row.
What kind of madness is this, and can I bring it home with me?
Viper was wrapped around him, his breath hot and even on the back of Ward’s neck.
It’s wild how comforting that is.
A soft knock at the crannóg door had startled them both awake. Zero’s voice drifted through with no regard for volume. “If you two lovebirds are done hibernating, there’s a caffeine emergency out here. Kaze is threatening ritual sacrifice.”
Viper groaned and rolled to his feet. “Murder isn’t a crime in mythological dimensions, right?” He didn’t wait for him to answer. “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned my stash of coffee. I knew it, and I did it anyway. What a fucking idiot.”
By the time Ward pulled on clothes and made it to the common clearing outside the crannógs, the chaos had already begun.
Kaze was pacing like an uncaffeinated asshole denied his prey.
Juice had his arms crossed and was watching the drama unfold with the calm of someone used to wrangling emotionally unstable brothers in arms. Reaper sat cross-legged with a piece of buttered bread, pretending to meditate, while Zero narrated the whole circus with a running commentary.
“There’s enough drama here for three reality shows,” Ward muttered as he came up beside Viper, who had been digging in his pack with laser focus.
“Coffee or riot,” Viper answered. “Choose one.”
“Please be coffee.” Desperation leaked into Juice’s voice. “Because I’ve only got one knife on me, and I’m not wasting it on Kaze.”
“I’m wounded,” Kaze declared, one hand on his chest. “I thought I was your favorite.”
“You are,” Trace said from the far side. “But only when you’re quiet and not threatening to offer squirrels to appease the caffeine gods.”
Ward bit back a laugh as Viper finally stood, tin in hand, victorious. “Everyone shut up. The bean juice has arrived.”
Cheers. There were actual, real cheers from grown-ass men.
It’s stupid o’clock in the morning.
How the fuck are they so damn perky?
He threw them a filthy look and went to the surprisingly decent bathroom area to take care of business. “If they are still acting stupid when I get back, I’m going to toss them in the lake and be done with it.”
By the time he returned to the crannóg, the first cups were being passed around.
He took the mug Viper handed him and went to sit on a stone bench next to the door.
He took a sip and winced at the black, gritty, and barely drinkable coffee, but decided, because it came with peace and quiet, he wouldn’t complain or bitch about it.
Viper sat beside him on the bench with a cup in his hand. He pressed close, their thighs brushing. It wasn’t overt or a declaration, but that simple lean-in and the shared heat, the casual claim, spoke volumes to him.
Kaze pointed at them both. “Soooooo, do we get to hear about the kiss that nearly set the damn lake on fire, or are you two pretending it didn’t happen?”
Ward silently prayed he wouldn’t flush, but knew he failed when he felt the heat rushing into his cheeks.
Viper gave him a wink and muttered, “Later, after I survive this coffee and don’t commit homicide.”
They’d barely managed two sips of the coffee before Kaze’s mouth ran wild again. “Damn.” He flopped onto a flat stone like a man ready for gossip and mayhem. “If I’d known mate marks came with snuggles and endorphins, I’d have hunted down a soul-bond years ago.”
Ward nearly choked on his drink. “You’re insufferable.” How in the name of anything holy they put up with his mouth running riot was beyond him.
“I’m delightful,” Kaze corrected with a wink. “You, my newly minted heart-bonded friend, are radiating post-kiss afterglow like a freaking sunrise. It’s downright rude to the rest of us.”
Reaper didn’t look up from the mug he was staring into. “Give it a week. One of them’s gonna trip over the other’s sword—metaphorically or otherwise. I’m voting for literal. Extra points if there’s blood.”
Does he mean sword as in killing sword or sword, sword?
Zero’s tone didn’t waver. “I give it three days before they’re making googly eyes and dry-humping behind some sacred oak, and they’ll get us all in shit for desecrating a sacred place.”
“You’re all assholes.” There was no heat behind Viper’s words. He didn’t even glance up as he refilled Ward’s cup with the strong, horrible brew he’d apparently decided was life-saving. “Also, stop talking about sacred oaks while I’m trying to drink.”
“I thought sacred oaks were where all the fun stuff happened,” Kaze mused.
“That’s mistletoe,” Zero deadpanned. “Get your pagan smut right.”
Trace wandered over, dropped a kiss on the top of Juice’s head, and handed him a loaf of something bread. He raised a brow. “Are you done harassing the new bondeds, or do I need to start issuing timeouts?”
“Can we vote on who gets the first one?” Kaze asked.
“No,” Ward said. He smirked at Kaze. “You’ve earned the first go round, in my opinion.”
Viper bumped his shoulder lightly. “You good?”
Ward met his eyes, and the noise around them softened.
It was strange how everything else fell away when Viper looked at him like that.
Steady, present, and unapologetically demanding his attention.
The words caught in his throat. It was way too soon for what was building between them.
But his nod must’ve been enough, because Viper nodded back and resumed sipping his coffee.
It’s all his fault anyway.
He’s the one who kissed me breathless and left me reeling.
But that scruff on his face and those muscles… yum.
When can we do it again?
He wanted to touch him, to brush the tips of his fingers over the mate mark. Something real to remind himself that this wasn’t a dream.
“You alright?” Juice dropped onto the bench beside him. He handed him two hunks of bread. “You look like someone gave you a puppy and a panic attack at the same time.”
Ward bit into the bread, chewed, and swallowed. “I don’t even know how to attempt to answer that question.”
“That makes two of you,” Juice said softly. “But you’re doing better than most. Better than I did. But I didn’t have my Grá Croí hovering over me like you do yours. I can’t imagine how intense that must be.”
Ward looked back across the fire toward Viper who was laughing at something Zero had muttered. His smile was crooked, tired, and brilliant. “Intense is a good way to put it.”
“I’m still pretty new at this Grá Croí and mates stuff,” Juice said softly. “But if it gets too much, come talk to me.” He nodded to Viper. “He’s one hell of a SEAL, and the best of men to have as a friend, but talking about feelings and shit is not one of his strong points.”
“Noted.”
“All I’m saying is, give both of yourselves a chance to figure out if this works for you.
” Juice drained his cup and got to his feet.
“If it doesn’t, we’ll figure out a way to stop the mate marks before they kill you both.
Promise.” Unaware of the bombshell he’d just dropped, Juice went back to Trace and sat cross-legged next to him.
Before it kills you both.
Kills…
Fuck.
“What happened?”
“Huh?” He blinked up at Viper. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“You’re white as a ghost.” He spun on his heel and glared at his second in command. “Juice. What the fuck did you do?”
“Nothing.” Juice leaned to one side to see around Viper. “I swear I only said to give you a chance befor—shit.”
“What the fuck did you do?” Viper caught him by the shirt and hauled him to his feet.
Ward snapped out of his stupor in time to see Trace lunge for Viper. “Hey. Stop. I’m okay.” He rushed to the three and grabbed Viper by the arm. “Seriously, I’m okay. Put him down.”
“Put my Grá Croí down, Viper, before I rip your fucking head off.” Bran’s growl was more than a little evident in Trace’s voice.
“What did he say to upset you?” Viper dropped Juice and spun around to face him.
Ward moved back a step, and then another, and another as Viper matched him step for step. “He asked me to give you a chance?—”
“He said that,” Viper growled. “What else?”
“That he’d find a way to break the mate bond before it killed us if we didn’t want it.”
Viper recoiled as if Ward had slammed a fist into his chest. He turned away, raking both hands through his hair as if trying to exorcise the thought from his mind. “I didn’t even think—hell, I didn’t remember that part.”
Ward watched him pacing back and forth as the echo of Juice’s words still rang in his ears.
“Stop the mate marks before they kill you both.”
“I don’t want that,” he said quietly—too quietly for anyone but Viper to hear. “I never said I wanted that.”
Viper spun back to face him. “Then why the fuck did you look at me like I’d just sentenced you to death?” The rawness in his voice gutted him. There was no cold military edge, no operator mask. Just Viper Dare, stripped down and shaking.
Because I’m scared.
Because I didn’t get a vote in any of this.
Because I feel everything too fast, too strong, and I don’t know how to survive it if you walk away.