Chapter Seven
Damon woke to the sound of pacing. That wasn’t unusual in itself. He’d heard Redford moving around the cottage plenty of times over the past week. But the pacing was new – as if Redford was thinking, or working up the courage to do something, although what it could be was anyone’s guess.
His hound lifted its head with interest. What’s he doing?
“I don’t know, but we’re not going to find out if you don’t settle down.”
The pacing stopped…right outside Damon’s door, before Damon heard a soft knock.
“Yeah?” Damon called out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “It’s open.”
Redford pushed the door open wider, and at first glance he looked a lot better than he had the day before.
He’d showered, dressed in clean clothes, and the exhaustion that had been turning his face gray was gone.
But the expression was new – Redford had come to a decision about something, and Damon felt a pit of lead form in his stomach.
“Morning,” Redford said. “Can we talk?”
Three words that never led anywhere good. Damon’s lead ball got heavier. “Sure. Give me a minute?”
“I’ll make coffee.” Redford disappeared back down the hall.
Damon stared at the empty doorway, his hound now fully alert and borderline frantic beneath his skin. He’s leaving. He’s got the face of someone who has to deliver bad news. He’s going to tell you he’s leaving.
“Shut up,” Damon muttered. “When did you become such a diva? You can’t know that.”
But his hands shook as he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Because what else could it be? His hound was right in that respect: Redford had that look, as if he was about to deliver bad news.
I should have asked him if we were mates. I should’ve told him I don’t have a clue about things like that…explained to him and at least shown him the box. I should have…
But when could he have done that? Redford was going through hell with his work and organizing the castle repairs. It was the worst possible time to ask, “Hey, do you know how hellhounds mate?” That would’ve gone down like a lead balloon – much like the one now sitting in Damon’s guts.
Making his way to the kitchen, Damon could see that Redford hadn’t even sat down. He was standing by the counter, two mugs of coffee already prepared. Hades’ garden, I want that man. I want to keep him, wake up to him every morning, want…
“Damon.” Redford turned, holding out one of the mugs. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Right. Of course. The talk. The one where Redford explained that the forced proximity had been nice, but he had a life to get back to, cases to work, and living in a tiny cottage in the Highlands with a hellhound he barely knew wasn’t in his next five-hundred-year plan.
Damon took the coffee, but his hound surged up his spine with such force he nearly dropped the mug.
No. Not like this. Tell him first. Tell him now.
“Wait.” The word just fell out. There was something about Redford that seemed to make that happen, but this time Damon was running with it. “Before you say whatever you’re going to say, I need…” Damon set the coffee down before he spilled it. “I need to show you something.”
Redford blinked, clearly thrown off whatever script he’d prepared. “Show me what?”
“Just…hold on a minute. Stay there, don’t go anywhere.”
Damon hurried back to his bedroom, his heart hammering against his ribs.
The collar box sat exactly where it always did, tucked in the back of his closet behind a stack of books he’d never read and a jacket he’d worn twice.
He’d avoided looking at it for three years.
Avoided thinking about it most days. But he couldn’t deny, with so many of his kin already mated… I have to give this a try.
The black velvet was soft under his fingers as he lifted it out. There were no visible hinges or locks. Just a perfectly formed large box that was impervious to fire or magical intervention. Infused with Lord Hades’ power, it was a box attuned to the hellhound it was given to.
Last chance to back out, some rational part of his brain whispered. You could still pretend this is casual. You could still protect yourself.
His hound snarled at the thought, and honestly, Damon agreed with his furry side. He was done pretending or trying to protect himself from what could end up being the best thing that ever happened to him.
When he returned to the kitchen, Redford was exactly where Damon had left him, but his expression had shifted. He seemed less nervous and more curious now. His dark eyes tracked the box in Damon’s hands, and something flickered across his face.
Does he already know what this is? Damon couldn’t take a chance one way or another. He had to say his piece.
“Redford, I need to explain something about hellhounds.”
“Okay.” Redford set his own mug down, giving Damon his full attention.
Right. Where to start? Damon had never actually had to explain the whole ridiculous situation to someone who wasn’t pack and who didn’t already understand the rules.
“You know how most shifters can scent their mates?” Damon began, clutching the box like a lifeline. “How vampires recognize them through blood scent, how mages feel it through their magic?”
“I’m familiar with the concept, yeah.”
“Hellhounds can’t.” The admission felt like pulling teeth.
“Originally when we were created, we weren’t given mates, and it wasn’t until after Lord Hades petitioned the Mother of All for us to have the right to walk the Earth that the Fates agreed we could have mates, too.
Because of that, we don’t know who our mates are just by meeting them, or by scenting them.
We” - he held up the box - “We need this.”
Redford’s gaze dropped to the velvet cube, then back to Damon’s face. “What is it?”
“It’s a collar box.” Damon’s hands were definitely shaking now. “Lord Hades gave one to each of the original pack when he sent us to Earth. It’s how we know...the only way we know...”
“Know what, Damon?”
Just say it. Just fucking say it.
“If someone is our mate.” Damon swallowed hard. “The box only opens for our mate. And if they put the collar on us willingly…” His voice cracked slightly. “Then we’re bonded, forever.”
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of wind against the cottage walls. Redford’s expression was unreadable, and Damon’s hound whined beneath his skin, terrified they’d made a catastrophic mistake.
“So that’s why,” Redford said slowly, “your hound has been so fixated on me.”
“I think so. It’s never happened to me before.
” Damon forced himself to meet Redford’s eyes.
“He’s been convinced you’re special to us since the moment you got out of your car.
But we couldn’t be sure. And I didn’t want to freak you out by dumping this on you when you barely knew me, when you were here for work, when… ”
“Damon.”
“…and you might not even want a mate, might not want me specifically, might…”
“Damon.”
“…think I’m completely insane for even suggesting…”
“Damon!” Redford’s voice finally broke through, and then he started laughing. Deep, genuine belly laughs that shook his shoulders, creased the corners of his eyes, and made absolutely no sense given the situation.
“I’m pouring my heart out here,” Damon said, somewhere between offended and confused. “What the hell is so funny?”
“I’m sorry.” Redford pressed his hand to his chest, still chuckling. “I’m truly sorry, I’m not…it’s not funny, it’s just…” He took a breath, getting himself under control. “I’ve known since we shook hands.”
The words didn’t compute at first. “You’ve known what?”
“That you and I are mates.” Redford’s smile was so bright. “The stones sang when you walked toward me. That’s how gargoyles know. Through touch and through singing stones.”
Damon stared at him, blinking twice before the words made sense. “You’ve known for just over a week?”
“I’ve known since the first moment.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“I was trying to court you properly.” Redford’s laugh bubbled up again. “I thought you didn’t know. That you were just being kind because your hound liked me. I wanted to give you time, let you get to know me before I dropped the mate bomb on you.”
“You…” Damon couldn’t form a coherent sentence. “You were courting me? By having me lug rocks around?”
“Well, not that exactly, and you did offer to help, but why do you think I kept watching you? Why do you think I memorized how you take your coffee? Why do you think…” Redford gestured helplessly. “I’ve been trying to show you I could be what you needed without pushing too hard.”
“I thought you were just being polite.”
“I thought you were just being kind to a stranger.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Damon started laughing too. Because it was either that or scream at the absurdity of it all. They could’ve been mated a week before, but instead they’d spent that week tiptoeing around each other like idiots.
“We’re both idiots,” Redford said, echoing Damon’s thoughts.
“Complete idiots,” Damon agreed. “I’ve been losing my mind trying to figure out how to bring this up. I was really wondering what was wrong with my hound, because he couldn’t know for sure either.”
“I haven’t slept properly in days trying to plan the perfect way to tell you.”
“And all this time…”
“We’ve been dancing around each other unnecessarily.” Redford stepped closer, his dark eyes warm. “So, are you going to let me open that box, or are we going to waste more time?”
Damon’s breath caught. “You really want to?”
“Damon.” Redford’s voice dropped, serious now. “I stopped hoping for a mate centuries ago. Then you walked up to me, and my entire world shifted. So yes, I want to. If you’ll have me.”
His hound surged with joy so intense that Damon nearly shifted right there. Yes, yes, yes, finally yes…
“Yeah,” Damon managed. “Yeah, I’ll have you.”
He held out the box with shaking hands. Redford reached for it slowly, his fingers brushing Damon’s as he took it.
The box was heavier than it looked, but from the moment Redford put a finger on it, the box started to glow around the middle.
Setting it down on the counter, Redford pressed against the sides, and the lid came open – a lid that didn’t appear to have been there seconds before.
Inside, nestled on black silk, lay a thick leather collar encrusted with brightly colored gems of every color. The collar itself had no visible clasp or catch of any kind, but Damon knew from talking with his mated packmates that the collar would stay on with magic.
“It’s stunningly beautiful.” Redford’s fingers hovered above it as if he was afraid it would disappear if he touched it.
“It goes on my hound,” Damon explained, his heart racing. “When I shift back, it’ll look like a necklace. But right now…” He swallowed hard. “Right now, I really need to shift. Things might get a bit crowded in here for a moment.”
“Just do it. I can’t wait to meet your hound.”
With his mate standing in front of him within touching distance of the collar that would bind them forever, the shift happened almost without thought. One moment Damon was human, the next he was on four massive paws, his black coat gleaming as he shook out his fur.
Redford’s breath hitched. “By the stones, you’re incredible.”
Damon’s hound wanted to prance and dance around, so happy at the praise, but he needed that claim more, so he stayed as still as he could.
Bending over, Redford looked deep into his eyes as his big hands stroked over the side of the hound’s jaw. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “Because once I do this, I’m not letting you go. Ever. You understand that?”
Damon huffed, nosing at Redford’s hand. Yes. Finally.
It seemed Redford was the one with shaking hands now, but the hound pretended not to notice as Redford lifted the collar out of the box.
The gems seemed to glow brighter as he raised the collar into the air, and when he placed it around Damon’s neck, the leather warmed as if the whole collar was alive.
The ends snapped together with a solid click, and just as quickly, Damon felt their bond snap into place.
It felt like coming home and falling off a cliff at the same time.
Suddenly every cell in his body knew exactly where it belonged as the new connection flooded through him.
He could feel Redford’s emotions, his acceptance and relief.
And Damon felt as though his soul was reaching back with equal force, binding them together until the end of time.
Mine, his hound rumbled with satisfaction.
Ours, Redford’s gargoyle seemed to answer, though the words came through the bond rather than through sound.
Damon shifted back without meaning to, overcome by the need to hold his mate properly. To kiss him. To…
He barely managed the transition before Redford’s arms were around him, Redford’s mouth was on his, and the collar had indeed transformed into a thin necklace of jeweled links that warmed against his skin.
“Mine,” Redford breathed against his lips.
“Yours,” Damon agreed, pulling him closer. “Forever.”
“What the hell is all that noise?” Redford suddenly shook his head as the pack all chimed in with their congratulations.
“Welcome to the pack, mate.” Damon was still grinning when their lips finally met. “You’re one of us now.”