Chapter Seven
Cody
The dream didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real.
Cody was back in the hotel room. The same room. The same bed.
The air was wrong—too still, too quiet. Someone was there.
He couldn’t see him, but he could feel him. That presence, heavy and suffocating. Watching and waiting. Cody tried to move, but his body wouldn’t respond. Panic clawed up his throat.
Then—
A hand brushed his ankle.
Cody jerked awake with a gasp.
Darkness. He panicked for a moment then remembered. He was at the ranch, in his bedroom. But his heart still raced like he was in danger.
“Cody.”
Reid’s voice cut through the panic, low and steady.
The bedside lamp flicked on.
Reid was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes scanning the room before settling on him.
“You’re safe,” he said. “It was just a dream.”
Cody dragged in a breath. “It didn’t feel like one.”
“I know.”
Reid’s hand hovered for a second—waiting.
Cody grabbed it.
Reid didn’t hesitate after that. He shifted closer, one hand bracing behind Cody while the other stayed locked with his.
“Tell me about the dream,” Reid said.
Cody swallowed. “He was there, in my hotel room watching me. I couldn’t see him, but I knew—he was right there.”
Reid’s jaw tightened. “You’re safe.”
“I know that.” Cody’s voice shook. “But it felt so real.”
Reid exhaled slowly, then seemed to make a decision. “Move over,” he instructed.
Cody blinked. “What?”
“I’m not leaving you like this.” Reid’s tone brooked no argument.
He kicked off his boots then climbed into the bed beside him, solid warmth at Cody’s side, one arm wrapping around him.
“Is this… still protocol?” Cody asked around a grin.
“No,” Reid said. “This is me not letting you go through this alone.”
Cody leaned back into him, tension bleeding out in slow increments. “I like that.”
Reid’s hand settled over his chest, right above his heart.
“Match my breathing,” he murmured.
Cody tried. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.
Reid’s heartbeat was steady against his back. Unshakable. Safe.
“You’re not alone anymore,” Reid said quietly.
And for the first time since the nightmares had begun, Cody believed it.
* * *
Reid moved through the ranch house with predatory grace, his eyes tracking Cody even when he was pretending to work.
They couldn't go more than an hour without touching.
A hand on the small of the back. Fingers brushing in the kitchen when handing each other a mug or a plate.
These stolen contacts hummed through Cody like a live wire.
A few days after Reid’s big reveal, they spent the day in the kitchen with Cody attempting to teach Reid how to make pasta from scratch, but it was a disaster from the beginning. Flour exploded everywhere and somehow, they ended up with more flour in Reid’s hair than was in the bowl.
"You're a terrible cook," Cody said with a grin.
Reid shrugged. "I keep people alive. I don't need other skills."
But he was smiling. That slow, rare smile that transformed his face and Cody smiled with him, feeling lighter than he had in years. He reached up and wiped flour from Reid's cheekbone. The world narrowed to the space between them, close enough that he could feel Reid’s breath on his skin.
Reid caught his wrist and his eyes turned that beautiful shade of amber-gold. "We need to stop or I'm going to take you right here on this kitchen counter," he growled out.
"Is that a promise?"
Reid's hand tightened on Cody’s wrist, then he released it with deliberate control. He stepped back putting a little space between them. "Later. When I have the time to do it right."
“I’ll hold you to that,” Cody replied.
They ended up on the couch with Cody pressed against Reid's chest, the bond thrumming between them with a rhythm that matched their heartbeats.
"Tell me about the mate bond," Cody said. "All of it. How it works. What it means."
Reid's chin rested on the crown of Cody's head. His heartbeat was steady beneath Cody's ear—a constant pulse of presence and protection.
"A mate bond forms when two people are meant for each other," Reid said slowly. "Usually happens between shifters, but sometimes a shifter can have a human mate.
“The bond isn't magic in the way humans think of magic. It's biological I suppose you could say, chemical, and even spiritual. When I recognized you by your scent, it was in unison with my bear recognizing his mate.
“It’s like two halves of one soul that finally reconnect.”
"And the connection? That feeling I get sometimes, like I can sense your emotions?"
"That's the beginning of the bond settling into place.
Once we complete the bond—the claiming—the connection becomes mutual and permanent.
I'll feel everything you feel. I’ll even be able to locate you, or at least to have a vague idea of where you are.
You'll have a weaker version of that, I think. "
"You’ll be able to locate me?" Cody's stomach tightened. "Not that I have anything to hide, but that sounds intrusive."
Reid agreed. "I suppose I’ve never really thought about it, I just took it for granted with my parents because they were both shifters, but I have friends with human mates, so I know it’s different for them.
Some mates find it invasive at first. Others crave it.
The bond is what we make of it. I'll always respect your boundaries, Cody. Even through the magic of our bond."
Cody nodded, satisfied with Reid’s answer. He believed him. Not just because of the words, but because of the care Reid took in everything. He was a good man, and Cody trusted that he would be true to his word.
"How long does it take?" Cody asked. "For the bond to settle?"
"Every pairing is different. Weeks. Months. Sometimes years." Reid's hand found Cody's hair again, fingers threading through gently. "There's no rush. We have time. A lot of time."
"What if I don't want to wait?" Cody whispered.
Reid went very still beneath him. "Cody—"
"I'm not scared," Cody said, and it was true. Overwhelmed, yes. But not scared. "Not of you. Not of us."
Reid's restraint snapped like a dry branch.
One moment Cody was perched in his lap, heart hammering against his ribs; the next, he was flat on his back on the leather couch, Reid's enormous body caging him in.
The shifter's pupils had blown wide, a low rumble vibrating through his chest that Cody felt everywhere—in his teeth, in his cock, in the base of his spine.
“Say it again,” Reid growled, his voice gone guttural.
“I want you.” Cody dragged his palms up Reid's chest, feeling heat bleed through cotton. “I don't wanna wait. Claim me, Reid. Tonight.”
Reid's mouth crashed down on his, and it wasn't a kiss so much as a possession.
Teeth scraped Cody's bottom lip, tongue sweeping inside, tasting every corner of him like he was starving.
Cody whimpered into it, hips arching up, finding the thick, obscene ridge trapped behind Reid's jeans.
Fuck. The man was hung like he'd been built to wreck him.
“Upstairs,” Reid rasped against his jaw. “Now. I won't have our first time on a damn couch.”
He hauled Cody up without effort, one arm banded beneath his ass, and Cody wrapped his legs around that massive waist, laughing breathlessly into Reid's neck as he was carried up the staircase like he weighed nothing.
Country star or not, six-foot-one or not, in Reid's arms he felt small. Precious. Owned.
The bedroom door kicked shut behind them.
Cody hit the mattress with a bounce, and then Reid was on him, stripping him with hands that shook—actually shook—as he tore Cody's flannel open, buttons scattering across the hardwood.
His hot, wet mouth sealed over a nipple, sucking hard, and Cody cried out, fingers fisting in dark hair.
“Reid—god—please—”
“Easy, sweetheart.” Reid's stubble burned a path down his sternum, his stomach, and lower.
He yanked Cody's jeans and briefs off in one brutal pull, and Cody's cock slapped up against his belly, flushed red and leaking at the tip.
Reid made a sound that wasn't human—half groan, half snarl. “Look at you. So damn pretty.”
Then his tongue was there, dragging hot and flat up the underside of Cody's shaft, and Cody's spine arched clean off the bed.
Reid swallowed him down to the root in one long glide, throat working, nose pressed to the crease of his thigh.
Cody's whole world narrowed to the wet, suction of that mouth, to the heavy palm splayed across his stomach holding him down when his hips tried to buck up into the heat.
“I'm gonna—Reid, I'm—”
Reid pulled off with a wet, dirty pop. “Not yet. Not till I'm buried inside you.”
Cody shivered.
Reid stripped in seconds, and holy hell—broad shoulders, a chest dusted dark with hair, a cock so thick and long Cody's mouth watered and his hole clenched in equal measure.
“You got any lube?” he asked.
Cody nodded, too turned on to be embarrassed. “It’s in the nightstand.”
Reid reached and grabbed the bottle then got to work slicking his fingers. Reid held his gaze as one blunt, calloused finger began circling, pressing, and finally breaching Cody’s hole.
Cody keened. Reid opened him slowly, relentlessly, working him with two fingers, then three, curling against that spot that made Cody see stars and swear in three different keys.
By the time Reid slicked himself and notched the fat head of his cock against Cody's rim, Cody was babbling, sweat-slick, and utterly gone.
“Breathe for me, baby,” Reid commanded.
Cody sucked in air as Reid sank in, inch by unbearable inch, until he was seated to the hilt and Cody was split open around him—full, stretched, and pinned.
A broken sob punched out of his chest, not pain, not close, just too much feeling at once.
The bond flared white-hot behind his ribs, and he knew, he knew without question that Reid felt it too.
“Mine,” Reid snarled, mouth against Cody's throat. His hips drew back and he slammed home again. The bed frame groaned in protest. “My mate. My Cody.”
“I’m yours.” Cody clawed at his back, nails dragging lines down heavy muscle. “Yours, yours, yours—”
Reid fucked him like he meant to brand him from the inside out, deep driving thrusts that rocked Cody up the sheets, each one hitting dead-on. When Reid's teeth scraped the tendon where neck met shoulder, Cody shuddered, already so close. “Do it,” he begged. “Claim me. Now—”
Reid bit down.
The world shattered. Cody came untouched, screaming, clenching around Reid's cock as the bond snapped into place like a steel cable between them—bright, blinding, permanent. Reid roared into the mark he'd made, hips stuttering, and spilled hot and endless inside him, pulse after pulse.
Tethered. Forever.
* * * *
That evening, Cody and Reid were sitting in the kitchen together, drinking coffee, when Diane called with an update. The happy and contented smile slid from Cody’s lips at once. Reid’s happy expression grew stoic.
Diane’s voice was tight with frustration. “Cody, it seems that the hotel footage was inconclusive,” she said. “They can see someone entering the corridor, but the camera angle doesn’t capture a clear face and he had his hood up. The police are saying without an ID, there’s not much they can do.”
“Did they take fingerprints?”
“Yes, but the security footage shows that he was wearing gloves to enter the room and we don’t know that he took them off.”
Cody felt the weight settle deeper into his chest. The stalker was still out there.
Still unknown and probably biding his time until he could get near Cody again.
Men like that never just stopped. Reid’s arm tightened around him, and Cody leaned into the solid warmth of him, trying not to think about how long this could go on.
Reid kept him close, an arm around his waist, as Cody sat on the kitchen stool, cradling his coffee. Every small act of domestic normalcy felt sacred, especially now that they had cemented their bond. Reid’s hand on his back. The warmth of the mug in his hands. Sunlight pouring through the windows.
"Thank you," Cody said suddenly.
"For what?"
"For being here. For staying. For making me feel like I'm worth protecting."
Reid tilted Cody's chin up and kissed him slow and deep.
"You don't have to thank me," Reid said against his lips. "Protecting you, taking care of you—that's not work. That's who I am."
Cody was coming to realize that and despite everything, it made him feel safer than he had any right to feel.