44. Calliope #3
His control is still there, cool and deliberate beneath the surface, but now I can feel what it contains. Relief sits beside fear. Love moves through both so steadily that my eyes sting whenever the bond opens wider.
Idris notices every change in my breathing. His arm tightens around my waist, and he kisses the damp skin below my ear while Theo lies along the other side of the tub with his head in my lap.
The temporary bite is gone from Theo’s shoulder. Idris' permanent mark sits in its place, dark and swollen against his warm brown skin, and Theo keeps touching the edge of it with two fingers as though checking it has not disappeared.
“You will irritate it if you keep doing that,” Idris says.
Theo’s hand drops into the water, though his smile remains. He closes his eyes when I run wet fingers through his hair and tips his face farther into my palm.
Idris cleans the remaining traces of the spike from Theo’s skin before turning his attention to me. His hands are gentle despite the new bond carrying every flare of his possessiveness directly into my body.
The intensity could frighten me if it felt anything like Garrett. It does not. Idris wants to hold, guide, and protect, but every movement still waits for my response. Even now, with his bite fresh in my shoulder and my body tired against him, he asks before turning me enough to inspect the mark.
“It is clean,” he says. His thumb strokes the skin beside it rather than touching the wound. “How does the bond feel?”
“Full.” I look down at Theo, who has gone soft and loose beneath my hand. “Loud in places.”
Theo opens one eye. “I can feel him worrying.”
Idris' chest moves against my back with a slow breath. “You both acquired permanent wounds within minutes of each other. Concern is appropriate.”
Theo’s smile returns. He reaches across the water until his fingers find mine, then folds our hands together over his stomach.
I feel Sloane before I hear the front door.
The older bond in my shoulder pulls warm and sharp, carrying surprise followed by a rush of emotion too tangled to separate. Footsteps move quickly through the house, joined by Dash’s quieter stride, and Theo lifts his head from my lap.
“They are home,” he says.
Sloane appears in the bathroom doorway first. His coat is still on, curls damp from the weather outside, and his gaze goes directly to the bite on my shoulder.
He stops.
The bond opens between us, and I feel the ache that moves through him before warmth overtakes it. Sloane crosses the room and lowers himself beside the tub, one big hand coming to my cheek.
“You did it,” he says softly.
I lean into his palm. “I did.”
His eyes move to Idris behind me, and the bond carries the force of everything neither of them says.
Sloane leans across the tub, catches Idris behind the neck, and kisses him with one hand braced against Idris' shoulder. Idris answers immediately, tightening his arm around my waist while his free hand slides beneath Sloane’s coat and pulls him closer.
Their mouths stay together long enough for the surprise in Sloane’s bond to soften into relief, and when they separate, Idris presses one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before Sloane turns toward me.
Sloane bends and kisses me, his mouth lingering against mine while the new bond hums beneath the older one.
When he pulls back, Theo shifts in the water and exposes his shoulder.
Sloane’s expression changes again, tenderness softening the hard lines left by the weather and whatever he found with Kade.
“You too, pretty boy.” He brushes Theo’s wet hair away from his face and kisses his forehead. “Look at you.”
Theo’s smile is exhausted and bright. He curls closer to my lap, pleased enough that he touches the edge of the mark again before Idris catches his wrist and lowers his hand.
Dash stands a few feet behind Sloane.
He has taken off his glasses, and the damp from outside has curled the hair near his temples. His gaze moves from Idris' bite on my shoulder to Theo’s permanent mark, then settles on my face.
Something quiet passes through his expression before he smooths it away. He is happy for us. I can see that clearly, but there is an ache beneath it that catches somewhere behind my ribs.
Sloane shifts aside enough to make room for him. Dash comes closer and crouches beside the tub, one hand resting on the edge while the other brushes wet hair away from my cheek.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Tired.” I cover his hand with mine. “Good.”
His thumb moves once against my skin. He looks at the new bite again, then returns his gaze to me without asking for anything.
“Whenever you are ready, Callie,” he says.
The patience in the words hurts more than pressure ever could. Dash has waited through every reunion, every old bond opening, and every piece of the pack settling around me. He has made room without pretending he does not want a place of his own.
I reach for him. Dash leans closer, and I draw him into a kiss over the edge of the tub. His mouth is cool from outside, but it warms quickly against mine as his hand slides to the back of my neck. I kiss him until the ache in his expression softens and his breath catches against my lips.