Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
LEO
Leo was halfway to the brewery’s front door when Beck intercepted him.
The wolf materialized from the shadows of the warehouse, two fresh beers in hand. He offered one without preamble.
“Peace offering?” Leo asked, accepting the bottle.
“Acknowledgment.” Beck fell into step beside him. “I’ve been an ass to you since you arrived. Not outwardly—I’m too charming for that—but internally. You probably noticed anyway.”
“You’re not subtle when you’re brooding.”
Beck laughed, genuine and surprised. “No. Theo’s always telling me that.
” He took a long drink, then stared at the amber liquid.
“I’ve known Junie for years. Watched her build walls so thick, you’d need a battering ram to breach them.
I thought maybe I could be the one to…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “But my wolf never… it wasn’t…”
“Mate recognition.”
“Yeah.” Beck met Leo’s eyes. “I didn’t understand the difference until I saw how your lion responds to her. The way you track her movements even when you’re pretending not to. That’s not attraction. That’s entirely different.”
Leo considered his words carefully. “My feelings for her aren’t about the lion’s recognition alone. I’m choosing to pursue her. Choosing to stay.”
“I know.” Beck’s voice was rough with acceptance. “That’s why I’m making peace. You’re not following instinct. You’re actually in this.”
“I am.”
Beck raised his bottle. “To choices, then. And to the people who make them worth making.”
Leo clinked his glass against Beck’s. “To choices.”
They drank in the quiet of the harbor, two men who might have been rivals finding understanding instead.
Junie was awake when he returned.
Not in bed, where he’d expected. She was curled on the window seat of his room at the Siren’s Rest, wrapped in one of his shirts—nothing underneath—with Glimmer coiled in her lap. The snake’s scales were a content amber, none of the hostile purple from their earlier encounters.
“You’re back.” Junie uncurled as he entered, padding across the floor in bare feet. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her legs bare beneath the hem of his shirt. “How was the meeting? Did anyone get punched?”
“Disappointingly civil.” Leo caught her waist as she reached him, pulling her close. She molded against him—soft curves meeting hard angles, her presence chasing away the night’s chill. “We have a plan. A trap. Victor should move within two weeks.”
“And then?”
“And then we end this.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on the curve of her jaw. “How was your evening?”
“Boring without you.” Her arms wound around his neck, her body pressing against his in a way that sent heat pooling low in his gut. “Glimmer and I played cards. She cheats.”
“Snakes don’t have hands.”
“That’s what makes the cheating so impressive.” She tilted her face up, invitation clear. “Did you and Beck work things out?”
“We reached an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding?”
“The kind where he accepts you’ve made a choice, and I accept that he cared enough to be hurt by it.” Leo’s hands slid down to her hips, pulling her closer. “He’s a good man.”
“He is.” Her fingers worked at his buttons. “But he’s not you.”
“No.” Leo let her push his shirt off his shoulders. “He’s not.”
She rose on her toes to kiss him, and he met her halfway—slow at first, then deeper as she pressed against him. Her tongue slid against his, and he groaned into her mouth, his hands fisting in the fabric of the shirt she wore.
His shirt. On her body. The possessive thrill of it raced through him like wildfire.
“I missed you,” she murmured against his lips.
“I was gone three hours.”
“Three hours too long.”
He laughed—a real laugh, the kind he’d only recently rediscovered—and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist with a familiarity that sent heat spreading through him. Her weight was nothing. Her presence was everything.
“I talked to Theo too,” he said, carrying her toward the bed. “He gave me his official blessing.”
“Theo doesn’t give blessings. He gives grudging acceptance and veiled threats.”
“Same thing, coming from an alpha.” Leo lay her on the mattress, following her down. “He reminded me that you deserve patience.”
“Did he now?” Her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “And what did you say?”
“That I already knew.”
She pulled him down for another kiss, and this time, there was nothing slow about it.
Heat and hunger and the electric awareness of skin against skin.
Her hands explored his chest, his back, the muscles that flexed under her touch.
His mouth found her neck, the sensitive spot below her ear, the curve of her shoulder where his teeth grazed without breaking.
But not tonight. Tonight was about this—the growing certainty between them, the trust building with every touch. The claiming would come when she was ready. Until then, Leo would take every moment she gave him and count himself lucky.
“Stay.” She whispered against his mouth.
“Always.”
“I know.” Her smile was soft, certain. “That’s why I’m asking.”
He answered with a kiss instead of words.
Later, tangled in sheets and each other, Junie traced patterns on his chest while his hand stroked lazy circles on her back. The moonlight painted silver stripes across the bed. Somewhere outside, an owl called.
“Two weeks,” she murmured. “And then Victor’s finished?”
“If everything goes according to plan.”
“Your plans always work?”
“Almost always.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “But I’ve learned to appreciate chaos.”
She laughed, the sound vibrating against his skin. “Took you long enough.”
“You’re worth the learning curve.”