Chapter Five #2
“That’s supposed to be reassuring?” Ryan looked down at their joined hands. His thumb brushed across Grayson’s knuckles, the touch light and probably unconscious. “Because it kind of makes me want to ask a lot of questions about your past.”
“Ask tomorrow.” Grayson squeezed his hands gently. “Tonight you need to rest.”
“I tried. I got in bed and closed my eyes and my brain just started listing every horrible thing that could happen.” Ryan’s laugh came out wrong, too high and brittle.
“It’s like a greatest hits compilation of anxiety.
Track one: someone breaks into the clinic and steals the dogs.
Track two: they come to the house and murder everyone.
Track three: I lose my job because I’m too scared to function. It’s a real banger of an album.”
The joke fell flat, but Grayson recognized it for what it was. Ryan trying to cope with fear by making light of it, trying to turn terror into something manageable through humor. It wasn't working. His pulse was still racing, his breathing still too shallow.
“You need to sleep,” Grayson said. He stood up, pulling Ryan with him. “Come on.”
“I’m in your room.” Ryan’s eyes went wide. “I can’t sleep in your bed. That’s weird. We barely know each other. I mean we had coffee and you kissed me, which was amazing by the way, but that doesn’t mean I should just invade your personal space like some clingy—”
“Ryan.” Grayson turned him around and gave him a gentle push toward the bed. “Get in.”
“But where are you going to sleep?” Ryan looked back at him, confusion written across his features. “This is your room. Your bed. I can’t just take it.”
“I’ll be fine.” Grayson pulled back the covers. The sheets were clean, changed just this morning. “I need to coordinate with the others anyway. Make sure everything is set for tomorrow.”
Ryan stood there for a long moment, his teeth worrying at his lower lip.
Then he climbed into the bed, moving slowly like he expected Grayson to change his mind and kick him out.
He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and looked small against the pillows, his hair spreading out in a messy halo around his head.
“This is really nice of you,” Ryan said. His eyes were already starting to close, exhaustion winning over fear. “I know I keep saying that. But I mean it. You didn’t have to do any of this.”
“Yes, I did.” Grayson moved to the door. His hand rested on the light switch. “Try to sleep. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
“Grayson?” Ryan’s voice was soft, already thick with approaching sleep. “What if they come tonight? What if they figure out I’m here?”
“They won't.” Grayson killed the light, leaving only the glow from the hallway. “And if they did, they wouldn’t make it past the driveway. You’re safe. I promise.”
Ryan didn’t respond. His breathing had already started to even out, his body finally surrendering to the exhaustion that had been pulling at him all evening.
Grayson stood in the doorway watching him for longer than necessary, tracking the rise and fall of the covers, the way Ryan’s fingers curled into the pillow.
His mate was in his bed. Scared and vulnerable and trusting Grayson to keep him safe.
The lion prowled under his skin, satisfied with this development, even as it remained agitated by the threat.
Ryan belonged here. In this house, in this bed, under Grayson’s protection. Everything else would work itself out.
Grayson pulled the door mostly closed and headed downstairs. The others were still in the living room, their voices low but audible. They stopped talking when he appeared, three sets of eyes turning to assess him.
“He asleep?” Reese asked.
“Yeah.” Grayson moved to stand near the window, looking out at the dark yard. “What’s the status on the clinic?”
“Marcus and Delia are in position.” Malik had his laptop open again, fingers moving across the keys. “They've got eyes on all entrances. No movement so far.”
“Good.” Grayson crossed his arms. The window reflected his image back at him, and for a moment, he saw the lion looking out through his eyes.
He blinked, and the impression faded. “I want rotating shifts through the night. Two people minimum at all times. If anything moves near that building, I want to know about it immediately.”
“Already arranged.” Reese stretched his legs out in front of him. The couch creaked under his weight. “We've got people scheduled through the morning. What about the vet tech's apartment?”
“Same deal. I want eyes on it.” Grayson turned away from the window. “The hyenas know where he works. They might know where he lives. I’m not taking chances.”
“You think they’ll move that fast?” Colton had appeared from the kitchen with a beer. He leaned against the doorframe, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert. “Usually these packs take time to plan. They’re scavengers. They like easy targets.”
“Ryan is an easy target.” The words tasted wrong in Grayson’s mouth. “Human. No protection. No idea what he's dealing with. They’ll see him as the path of least resistance.”
“Until they find out he's yours.” Malik looked up from his laptop. “Then he becomes the hardest target they could have chosen.”
Grayson didn’t respond. The truth of it sat heavy in the room.
Every shifter downstairs knew what Ryan was to him, could probably smell it on Grayson’s skin.
The mate bond wasn't complete yet, wouldn’t be until Ryan knew the truth and accepted what Grayson was, but the connection was already forming.
Already making Grayson’s lion territorial and violent at the thought of anyone threatening what belonged to him.
“We need to find the pack.” Grayson moved away from the window. “I want to know where they’re based, how many of them there are, who's calling the shots. We can’t just sit here waiting for them to make a move.”
Not when his mate’s life was at stake.