Chapter Seven
Something in Reese soften as he watched Sonny coax Hercules into taking a few more tentative steps across the damp grass.
The sunlight catching the blond strands and turning them almost white in the light.
He watched as Sonny guided both dogs around the perimeter of the yard.
Delilah had ventured farther away, her nose working overtime as she explored.
Hercules stayed closer, but his tail had started wagging in tentative arcs.
Sun warmed Reese’s shoulders. Birds called from the trees lining the fence, their songs punctuated by the distant sound of traffic. The grass under his feet was damp, soaking through his socks. He didn’t care. Everything felt peaceful.
His mate was here. Safe. Claimed. The dogs were healing under their care. For the first time in longer than Reese could remember, he was content.
“You know what’s weird?” Sonny asked, still focused on Hercules.
The dog had found a patch of clover and was sniffing it.
“I spent weeks watching these dogs suffer and thinking I was helpless, that there was nothing I could do that would actually matter. And now they’re here, in this beautiful yard, with actual medical care and people who give a damn about them.
” He looked up at Reese finally, hazel eyes catching the sunlight. “That’s because of you.”
Moving closer, Reese cradled the back of Sonny’s head. The blond hair was soft between his fingers. “They matter because no one, not even dogs, deserved to be treated so inhumanely.”
“I feel the same way.” Sonny leaned into the touch, his eyes closing briefly. “I like that you feel the same way. It’s sweet. You’re sweet, which is hilarious considering you look like you could rip a phone book in half.”
“I could rip one in half.”
“See? That just proves my point.” Sonny’s smile widened, something playful entering his expression. “Big scary polar bear who can definitely rip up hefty books but won’t let me carry my own dogs inside because he’s worried I’ll hurt my back.”
“You’re too small to be carrying a fifty-pound dog.”
“I’m not that small. I’m perfectly average for a bunny shifter and just as strong as other nonhumans.” Sonny gestured at himself. “This is normal bunny proportions. You’re just abnormally large. Do you have to special order furniture? I bet you have to special order furniture.”
He pulled Sonny closer, ignoring his mate’s surprised sound. The pants were soaked through at the knees from the wet grass, clinging to Sonny’s legs. Reese could feel the warmth of his mate through the damp fabric where their bodies pressed together.
“We should walk them around the yard.” Sonny held Reese’s forearms. “Get them used to moving in open spaces. Dr. Sullivan said exercise would help with Hercules’s breathing, as long as we don’t push too hard.”
They walked slowly, Reese matching his stride to Sonny’s shorter steps. The dogs followed, Delilah limping, Hercules breathing hard but keeping pace. The warm air carried the scent of honeysuckle and pine from the mountains. The grass was thick under their feet, springy and wet.
Sonny talked as they slowly strode, his voice a steady stream of comments and questions.
He pointed out a bird’s nest in one of the trees, wondered aloud if the dogs would eventually be comfortable enough to play, made a joke about Reese’s furniture that actually made Reese’s mouth curve slightly.
His mate’s humor was witty, finding absurdity in situations without making them feel hopeless.
Reese was falling. The realization settled over him with startling clarity. It wasn’t just the bond or the claiming. It was something deeper. Sonny made him want things he’d stopped letting himself consider years ago. Permanence. Partnership. A future that extended beyond the next mission.
His mate was brave in ways that had nothing to do with physical strength.
He’d stolen dogs from a hyena fighting ring knowing the consequences, run for days to keep them safe, then walked into a café full of predator shifters and asked for help.
And now he was here, making jokes about furniture while coaxing traumatized dogs into trusting the world again.
Fuck if he wasn’t falling hard.
Sonny had stopped walking, his head tilted up to look at Reese. “The staring thing. It’s very distracting. I’m trying to focus on the dogs, and you’re just standing there looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to solve.”
“Not a puzzle.” Reese touched Sonny’s jaw, thumb brushing across the soft skin. “Just enjoy watching you.”
“That’s somehow more intense than the puzzle explanation.” But Sonny’s eyes had grown darker, pupils dilated. “We’re in your backyard. In broad daylight. With dogs. This is not the time or place for whatever shenanigans you’re thinking about.”
Sonny laughed as Reese kissed him. Then he made a surprised sound that melted into something softer, hands coming up to grip Reese’s shirt.
The kiss was slow, thorough, tasting like the mint toothpaste Sonny had used.
His mate opened for him immediately, letting Reese in, giving back without hesitation.
Delilah barked. The sound was quiet, uncertain, but it cut through the moment. Sonny pulled back, his face flushed. “The dogs. Right. We’re supposed to be walking the dogs, not making out like horny teenagers.”
“Cockblocker,” Reese grumbled.
“You’re terrible. This is terrible enabling behavior.” But Sonny was smiling as he turned back to the dogs, checking on them with gentle hands. “Come on, you two. Let’s finish this lap before your new daddy decides to completely derail the exercise plan with his gorgeous face.”
His mate thought he was gorgeous. Reese inwardly preened.
They continued walking, Sonny’s hand finding his. The contact was casual, easy, like they’d been doing this for years instead of days. The dogs moved between them, Delilah pressing close to Sonny’s leg while Hercules stayed near Reese’s, like the “kids” were purposely keeping them apart.
The wind shifted.
Reese went still. The scent hit him, carried on the soft breeze. Hyena. Male. Close. Too close. His bear surged forward, demanding action, demanding to end the threat.
“Sonny.” Reese glanced around. “Take the dogs inside. Now.”
His mate’s head snapped up, those hazel eyes going wide. “What’s wrong?”
“Inside. Now.” Reese was already moving, positioning himself between Sonny and the fence line where the scent was strongest. His claws and canines slid free. “Don’t argue. Just go.”
Sonny grabbed both dogs, his movements quick despite Delilah’s limp and Hercules’s labored breathing. Reese heard him moving toward the house, heard the back door open and close.