Chapter 16 #2
Viper hesitated for a beat, then he took his hand and together, they stepped into the firelight—two bonded men in a world older than recorded time dancing beneath stars that had witnessed the rise and fall of kings.
Around them, the Fianna clapped in rhythm, the drums pounded like blood through ancient veins, and the music steeped in history played wild, free, and full of hope.
By the time the stars had shifted high overhead and the music started slowing from thunderous war beats to softer pipes and gentle strings, Viper leaned in to Ward’s ear and murmured, “Think anyone would notice if we made our escape?”
Ward, flushed from drink and dancing, swayed into him and grinned. “If they do, they’ll be too drunk to care.”
The pull between them that had never really been banked since they’d completed their mating bond flared into life. It tempted, seduced, and dared them to answer its siren’s call.
Viper caught Juice’s eye across the feast circle.
His 2IC gave him the smallest of nods, already dragging Trace toward a fireside blanket with all the subtlety of a brick.
Reaper looked half-asleep, Zero had a lap full of knives and was busy talking Oisín’s ear off, and Kaze was somewhere between wrestling a bear of a Fianna warrior and professing his undying love to the woman who’d kept beating him at darts.
Perfect. No one will miss us.
Viper reached for Ward’s hand, laced their fingers together, and tugged him toward the edge of the light. Ward followed without question, and walked with him through the darkened grove and down the narrow, winding trail that led to their crannóg.
The night air was crisp, pine-scented, and full of life, but it was quieter out here. The firelight from the village dimmed behind them until only the glow of the moon danced along the lake’s surface. Their boots scuffed the wooden walkway as they crossed the bridge to the roundhouse.
Inside, the space was warm. Someone—probably Trace—had come by earlier and stoked the fire. The furs had been shaken out, fresh ones layered atop the old, and there was even a small covered pot set on the hearth that smelled like cinnamon and honey.
Ward turned slowly as the door shut behind them. “You think they were trying to set a mood?”
“They’re trying to get us to relax,” Viper said, stepping up behind him. “You know… in case a week of magical combat and saving an ancient king wasn’t enough to wear us down.”
Ward leaned into him, back against his chest, gaze fixed on the flames. “It’s strange. How fast this became home.”
Viper slid his arms around him and pressed his nose into the curve of Ward’s neck, breathing him in. “I think it’s you who made it home for me.”
“This is probably not going to make a lick of sense.” Ward reached up and covered Viper’s hands with his own. “But there’s something about this place. The way it listens. The way it remembers.”
He fucking loved how Ward viewed the world.
“Then let’s give it something worth remembering.
” He spun him gently, walking him backward until Ward’s knees hit the edge of the fur-draped bed.
He caught Ward’s mouth in a kiss that was slow and deep, laced with heat and gratitude and a bone-deep hunger that had never really faded.
Not with him.
It will never fade with him.
***
Ward’s knees bent, and he let himself sink into the furs, pulling Viper down with him.
The firelight flickered against the walls, painting gold across Viper’s shoulders, highlighting the long scar that ran from his collarbone to the curve of his bicep.
Ward traced it slowly and reverently, dragging his fingers down the path of it.
“I want to learn all of them,” he murmured.
“Every scar. Every line. Every place the world tried to take a piece of you and failed.”
Viper sucked in a breath through his nose and leaned into the touch, his voice rough with something dangerously close to tenderness. “You already know more than anyone else ever has.”
Ward rolled, pulling him over until Viper hovered above him. “Good. Then let me learn more.”
The kiss they shared wasn’t hurried or frantic. The burning rush of need that had overtaken them at the feast mellowed to something slower, deeper, and more reverent. Unspoken vows were made in quiet breaths and long, drawn-out sighs.
Their clothes were shed in stages—softly, silently—between kisses and smiles and the laughter that felt like it belonged only to them. There was no rush, and no urgency pressing against the edges of their peace and joy in each other.
When Viper finally pressed Ward down into the furs and lay the length of his body over him, their skin hummed with the bond in a constant, steady thrum of something ancient and sacred and very much alive—the pulse of two hearts learning how to beat as one.
Ward arched his throat for Viper’s kiss along the line of his jaw and the hollow of his collarbone. Every inch earned a gasp or a whispered name.
When he reached Ward’s heart, Viper paused and lowered his head to press his mouth directly over the glowing knotwork mark. “I love this,” he whispered. “I love what it means. I love that it’s you.”
Ward’s fingers curled into his hair, anchoring him there. “I’m yours,” he said, voice unshaken despite how wide open he felt. “In this world or the next.”
“You’re mine,” Viper echoed, letting the words soak into the universe. “And I’m yours. Always.”
The fire cracked beside them, throwing sparks upward into the shadows.
They made love with the care of men who understood that forever was fragile, but worth fighting for.
Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word between them layered another thread into the bond that had already claimed them body and soul.
When they finally lay tangled together, chest to chest, their hearts steady and breaths shared, neither spoke. They didn’t need to. The bond hummed quietly in the stillness, saying everything words never could.
***
Viper drifted his fingers through Ward’s hair, letting the strands slide between his knuckles as the other man dozed against his chest, wrapped in the blanket of peace that didn’t come often in a SEAL’s life.
The bond between them pulsed low and warm, less like lightning and more like a hearth fire—steady, grounded, and impossibly heartfelt.
Here with Ward’s hand splayed across his stomach and his breath warm against his skin, the only thing waiting for them tonight was sleep.
“You still awake?” Ward whispered.
“Yeah.” Viper didn’t want to move, and he didn’t want to break the spell. “I don’t want to miss a second of this.”
Ward shifted slightly, enough to look up at him from his half-lidded and soft eyes. “This?”
“You. Us. This moment.” Viper dropped his hand to trace a slow line along Ward’s spine. “You have any idea how fucking rare this is?”
Ward’s lips curved into a tired smile. “I’m thinking it’s pretty damn rare.
I’ve never known anything like it.” They lay like that for a while, breathing in sync, letting the silence settle around them again.
Outside, the sounds of the feast started to fade to the occasional distant laugh or the echo of a drum being struck in rhythm.
“I never thought I’d have this,” Ward said suddenly.
“Not really. I figured I’d live my life with one foot in someone else’s story, trying to find where I fit. ”
“You fit here.” Viper’s voice was rough again, the words thick in his throat. “With me. You’ll never be a footnote in my world, Ward. You are and always will be the fucking headline.”
Ward’s expression crumpled, eyes going glassy. He blinked hard and buried his face back against Viper’s chest. “God, you say things like that, and I’m going to start thinking you’re some kind of romantic fool.”
“I’m not,” Viper muttered. “I’m blunt-force trauma in human form. But I know what I want.” He tipped up Ward’s chin with the tip of his finger. “And you’re it.”
“Good.” Ward pressed a soft kiss to his chest over his heart. “Because I don’t want to go back to pretending I’m someone else’s problem.”
“You’re my everything now.” Viper didn’t flinch from the truth of it. “So when that door opens tomorrow—when the real world starts demanding answers and missions and orders—we figure it out. Together.”
Ward nodded slowly, the glow from the marks on their skin flickering one last time before settling back to a faint blue.
“Together,” he echoed, his voice drowsy as sleep pulled at him in slow waves.
It wrapped them in something safe and ancient.
For one more night, they didn’t have to be soldiers or scholars.
They were just two men lying skin to skin in a world that had finally given them something to fight for.