Two hours later, Dante gritted his teeth when Finn pushed the bent needle into his skin. The needle dragged and pulled—probably one of the most disconcerting feelings in the world.

“Sorry.” Finn winced. “Just a bit more to go.”

“I know. Feels like an ant-bite, is all.” Dante smiled lopsidedly. “Don’t see no ant, though—just an omega I want under me.”

Finn’s cheeks darkened. He lowered his gaze, sewing the next stitch. “I’m mending your wounds, and you’re trying to flirt?”

“Just propositioning.”

Finn raised an eyebrow, like all the times he’d done as Dante’s teacher, when Dante had done something reckless. “Have you no shame?”

“None.” Dante grinned. “I’ll show you my cock, if that helps.”

For the first time since they got home, Finn eased into a smile. “No, that won’t help.”

“Figures.” Dante lay back on the bed, running his fingers through his damp hair. Stared at the rafters of the cabin, wondering how quick they’d need to run if they lost the pack’s favor.

There was far too much to move—Finn’s furniture, the tools in his shop, the lumber in the shed. It would take at least a few days, and Dante wasn’t sure they had the luxury of time.

“So we’re not packing yet,” Finn said, his humor fading.

Dante touched Finn’s cheek with his fingertips. “We’ll wait and see,” he said. “Maybe you don’t have to leave.”

“Wherever you go, I’m following,” Finn said. “You know that.”

Dante sighed. “I guess.”

It didn’t sit well with him, knowing he was the cause of all this trouble. Finn’s pack possibly turning against them, their pups put in danger. The wolves attacking today... they would be back. Deep in his heart, Dante knew it.

“It’s safer to stay with pack,” Finn said quietly. He tied off the thread, snipped it close to the knot, then dabbed away the blood and plasma off Dante’s skin. “The fight proved it.”

Dante covered his face with his free hand, his stomach flipping. “Gods, that fight. I thought they were gonna kill you, Finn.”

Finn grimaced. “I couldn’t leave you alone. One against three, Dante. That wasn’t a fair fight.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t have joined in.” Dante’s memories of the fight were fuzzy—there had been too much going on, his wolf had almost taken over. But he remembered the stab of panic when he’d seen Finn rounding the side of the house, dragging his bad leg along. “I was so damn scared.”

“I lived, didn’t I?” Finn smiled wanly. He set the needle and scissors on the bedside table, then took Dante’s hand in his own. “I couldn’t watch you die. You need to know that.”

Maybe Dante would’ve been happy with that revelation, once upon a time. But that time had long gone.

“I can’t watch you die.” Dante slipped his hands under Finn’s arms, lifting Finn off his stool.

Finn yelped. “You haven’t recovered!”

“A few minutes isn’t gonna make much difference,” Dante muttered.

He lay his omega on top of him. Finn fidgeted, straddling him on the too-small mattress, careful not to put any pressure on Dante’s wounds.

“I’m gonna live, Finn,” Dante said.

“I’ve seen enough blood from you in a day.” Finn braced his hands on either side of Dante’s head, burying his face in the crook of Dante’s neck. “You smell so good.”

It was adorable, how much Finn cared. He’d never been able to hide that. Even years ago, when he’d first met Dante—Dante still remembered Finn’s concern, Finn asking Dante if he needed more food, if he needed a place to shelter for the night.

Then Dante had grown older, and Finn had taught Dante the proper way to work a chisel on the lathe. He’d corrected Dante’s posture, taught him to be gentle with the turning stock.

Finn had been his mentor, but to Dante, Finn had also always smelled like omega. Like someone Dante could build a home with.

Finn blushed, looking down.

Dante slid his fingers through his omega’s damp hair, kissing the top of his head. Breathed in dill and lavender shampoo. They’d showered since they’d gotten back from Bill’s place, and Finn had pulled on a shirt and his sleeping shorts.

Dante was glad to see Finn hadn’t been terribly injured. Unlike the rips and bites on his own body, Finn carried only scratches and bruises—none on his belly.

“You wouldn’t have gotten these if you didn’t step out of the house,” Dante murmured, stroking lightly over a bruise.

Finn shivered. “Then Rhett and Humphrey might’ve killed you along with the rest.”

If Finn hadn’t pressed himself against Dante... then yeah, maybe Dante might’ve been mauled.

But Dante couldn’t forget the pack alphas’ words. He’s a murderer. He’ll kill us all.

None of the Topanga pack alphas they’d met had taken to Dante. He couldn’t imagine the rest of the pack being any kinder—Old Bill had been an exception.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to raise our pups here,” Dante said.

Our pups. Still sounded strange to him—it had been a week since Finn conceived.

Dante slipped his hand between them, touched the firm, smooth plane of Finn’s belly. Finn sucked in a breath. Then he sighed, his breath warm on Dante’s skin.

“I don’t think I’ve known anything else other than pack,” Finn murmured. “I don’t know if I could move to the city. It just seems so... foreign.”

Dante flipped Finn onto the mattress, kissing down the delicate skin of his throat. “We’ll be fine there,” he said. “I learned a thing or two when I was in jail.”

Finn looked doubtfully at him. “Like what?”

“Like if we live downtown, where all the species are—they sort of have a family there, too. Fawns and elves and everything. They live among the humans.”

Finn stuck his lower lip out, thinking. “Will you be fine there?”

Dante hesitated, thinking back to the fight. If it happened, again, if he stayed around the pack and accidentally attacked them... “I don’t know if I can control my wolf. Seems like it’ll solve some of my problems if I could.”

It was still a thing he needed help with. Finn had tried to teach him, long ago, but Dante had forgotten since.

Finn thinned his lips; Dante knew Finn disapproved of his father—Dante’s father should have taught him this. Then Finn pushed his thoughts aside, taking Dante’s hand in his own.

“Here,” Finn murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “Close your eyes.”

Dante closed his eyes.

There were different parts of being a wolf-shifter: control over your mind, control over your body. Sometimes, Dante felt as though he was fighting against his wolf for control over both.

“It’s easiest for your wolf to possess your mind,” Finn whispered. “Your wolf is always just beneath the surface—it’s a wild creature, and sometimes it struggles to be free. You’ll feel it here.”

Finn pressed his palm against Dante’s chest. Dante’s wolf stirred, keen on pressing closer. Mate, it thought.

Dante felt its hunger, felt its desire to claim Finn. It was always easy to give into that, share his mate with his wolf.

He breathed in deep, smelled Finn’s dill scent, and the soap on his skin.

Then he was in a shadowy forest in his mind, looking at the back of a wolf. Next to him, Finn held his hand, watching the wolf, too.

“Treat your wolf with kindness,” Finn said, his voice hazy in that nowhere-forest. “It will respond to patience, and love. The older a person is, the less we can influence that wolf. But we can always make amends.”

Finn knelt on the forest floor, reaching out toward the wolf. “Dante,” he said.

Dante’s heart tugged toward Finn, and the wolf turned. It looked at Finn with those golden eyes, a swath of black fur across its head.

Slowly, the wolf approached, sniffing at Finn’s fingers. Then it licked at Finn, nuzzling his hand. It liked Finn.

Dante felt the wolf’s energy calm, saw its tail wag.

Finn stroked the wolf’s haunches, burying his face in its neck. It almost looked like a mirror’s reflection—that was Dante’s wolf form, and he hardly ever saw it from the outside.

“Your turn,” Finn said, pulling away.

Dante grimaced. Maybe it was because he shared a body with his wolf, but the wolf didn’t take quite as kindly to him. It glanced over at Dante, eyes narrowed, tail flicking sharply, as though annoyed.

“Remember what you were supposed to do?” Finn asked, a tiny smile tugging on his lips.

“Yeah.”

Dante knelt, letting the wolf sniff at his fingers. The wolf sniffed. Didn’t attack. So Dante ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur, leaning against it. This time, the wolf calmed, nuzzling his throat. They were equals right now.

He remembered the times he gave in, when he lay on the ground and allowed the wolf to clamber onto his chest. Those times had led to Dante waking with blood on his hands, and lifeless corpses next to him.

Wasn’t gonna do that again if he could. Dante pulled away from his wolf, glancing at Finn.

“Be calm when you speak with it,” Finn said. “That always helps.”

Dante had always struggled with his wolf. It was difficult to remain calm, but Dante would try.

He blinked again, and he was back in Finn’s bedroom in the cabin, lamplight flickering around them. Finn smiled down at him, his body warm against Dante’s. “I’m glad you’re trying,” he murmured.

“I’d do anything for you,” Dante said, meaning it.

Finn’s eyes were so bright; Dante’s breath snagged in his throat. So he slid his hands down Finn’s sides, stroking his arms, leaving his cherry-wood scent everywhere he touched.

“Mine,” Dante whispered.

Finn blushed, stroking his fingertips across Dante’s forehead. “Remember the first time you did that? We hadn’t even kissed yet.”

Dante remembered. Finn had been younger then, more surefooted in the workshop. He’d been standing on a work table trying to reach some stored lumber, and Dante had held Finn’s hand to lend him support.

“You fell onto me,” Dante said, grinning. “More like you slipped, but you ended up dragging the whole front of your body against mine. It pulled your shirt up. I saw your nipples.”

Dante had been eighteen, and it had been the first time he’d seen all of Finn’s chest. Then he’d smelled his own scent on Finn, cherry-wood on dill, and something had come awake in his chest.

“I spent a year thinking about your nipples,” Dante said.

Finn blushed to his hairline. “I was your teacher, Dante.”

“I was living in the shed,” Dante said. “And I was jerking off to you every night.”

“Gods, I walked in on you.”

He had. Dante grinned, rolling his hips against Finn’s. “You just froze in the doorway. Like, I don’t think you even breathed. But your eyes glued to my cock, and I showed you.”

Dante had stroked his thumb down his cock, then up, and Finn never moved an inch. He’d just watched. And Dante had throbbed under his attention.

“You came right in front of me,” Finn muttered, looking away. There wasn’t mistaking the musk coiling from his skin, though. “All over the sheets. It felt like you wouldn’t stop coming.”

“With you watching me? I was so hard I could burst.” Dante smiled, kissing down Finn’s chest. “Your entire face turned red—I thought you were gonna faint. Then you left. I think you were jerking off to me later that night.”

Finn groaned, covering his face. “You heard that?”

“Well, yeah.” Dante nipped at Finn’s collarbones. “I was stroking right along with you—you were moaning so loud. You were thinking about me inside, weren’t you?”

Finn didn’t answer, but his silence said everything.

“And then you stopped talking to me for a week,” Dante said. “So I carved you those dogs. Didn’t think you still had them in your bathroom.”

Finn shrugged. “Didn’t have anywhere else to put them.”

“You visit the bathroom multiple times a day, Finn. If you really hated them, you would’ve thrown those dogs away.”

“You know I can’t.” And now Finn was biting down his smile, like he was trying to hide his amusement.

So Dante tucked his knees under him, and kissed down Finn’s chest, to his belly. Pulled Finn’s shirt up, exposing the faint blue lines on his skin. Finn carried Dante’s pups. And his cock was half-hard, a thick line in his shorts. Dante smiled.

He pressed his face between Finn’s legs, breathed in his musk. Finn moaned. “Gods, Dante.”

“What do you want?” Dante whispered.

Then he kissed Finn’s cock through his shorts, and Finn’s cock thickened. With a growl, Dante pushed Finn’s legs apart, nuzzled his soft balls.

“Always about the sex with you,” Finn muttered, spreading his legs wider.

Dante slipped his hand up the leg of Finn’s shorts. “Not true. I still remember when we first kissed.”

“Really?” Finn licked his lips, watching Dante’s every move.

Dante curled his fingers around Finn’s balls, gave them a light squeeze. His stitches pulled along his fingers. “Yeah. It was winter. You were closing the shop after class. I’d gotten the hearth all fired up for you.”

Finn’s smile spread through his face. “And?”

“You were humming and talking to that damn door lock. And then you turned around, and gods, you looked so fucking beautiful.”

Dante had stepped in, pressed Finn against the shop, and kissed him on the lips. Finn had stiffened. Then he’d moaned into Dante’s mouth, and Dante had kissed him again, tasted him thoroughly. He’d been the best thing Dante had ever tasted in his life.

Finn’s cheeks reddened. “I’d told you we shouldn’t.”

“I never listen,” Dante said, rubbing his thumb along Finn’s cock.

Finn snorted. “You never do.”

But he lifted his hips, and Dante tugged Finn’s shorts down, tossing them onto the floor. Shoved Finn’s legs apart.

Finn moaned, opening them wider.

Dante loved times like this, when Finn was relaxed with him, when he invited Dante closer, invited Dante to kiss and suck and fuck. Years ago, Finn had turned him down, denied he was ever interested in Dante.

Dante took Finn’s cock into his mouth, smirking when Finn threw his head back. “I also remember the first time we fucked,” he said around Finn’s cock.

Finn pushed deeper into Dante’s mouth. “Do you?”

“In the shop. I’d locked the door,” he said, swirling his tongue around Finn’s tip, tracing the smooth edge of Finn’s foreskin. Then he took Finn into his hand, caressed Finn’s warm, velvety length. Squeezed him. “You were standing by the work table.”

“Imagine if I’d been standing by one of the electric saws,” Finn said, but his voice was breathy.

Dante took all of Finn into his mouth. Finn groaned, his cock growing thick, heavy. Then Dante pulled away, admiring the glistening fine veins across Finn’s skin. So damn beautiful.

“You would’ve told me to stop,” Dante said, grinning. “I wasn’t taking chances, so I waited until you were somewhere safe.”

“Then you kissed me—” Finn’s words cut off when Dante sucked him back into his mouth, pulling down his foreskin, rubbing the flat of his tongue against Finn’s exposed head. Finn shuddered.

“Gotta kiss you first,” Dante whispered. “So you know I’m not just there for the sex.”

Finn blushed. “Sucking up to me.”

“So I can suck on you.” Dante chuckled, then stroked his fist up Finn’s cock, squeezing out a droplet of his precome.

Back then, Dante had kissed his teacher. Then he’d knelt by Finn’s feet, undone Finn’s pants, and taken Finn into his mouth. Finn’s legs had shaken so hard that he’d leaned against the workbench, his knuckles white against the table’s edge. Dante had all but sucked on him for a few minutes, and Finn had come across his tongue.

By that point, Finn had gotten completely wet. He’d taken Dante easily into his body, slippery and tight. Dante had fucked him until he’d come again.

“You loved my knot,” Dante whispered, sliding his fingertips around Finn’s hole. Then he pushed into that hot, tight wetness, and Finn’s spine arched. Musk bloomed between them. “Wasn’t long until you were begging me for it every day.”

Finn groaned. His legs trembled against Dante; his breath came in shuddering gasps. “I tried—tried so hard not to.”

Dante pulled away from Finn’s cock, kissing down his length. “Remember the time you fucked yourself on me?”

Finn opened his mouth to answer. Dante found his prostate, pushed down hard on it. Finn choked on his moan. His fingers scrabbled across the sheets. “Dante!”

Looking at Finn, his slender body quivering, spread out before Dante like a feast, Dante couldn’t help leaning in, sucking on Finn’s balls. Stroking him inside, over and over, until Finn’s body squeezed around him. Finn groaned, his chest heaving with each breath, his flushed cock straining.

“Come for me,” Dante murmured, taking Finn back into his mouth.

Then he ground his fingers against Finn’s prostate, and Finn jerked, his cock pulsing against Dante’s tongue, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Finn came in big spurts across Dante’s tongue, his toes curling, his head thrown back, his pulse beating like a drum in Dante’s ears.

Dante slipped his fingers out, stroking Finn’s thighs. He waited until he had every last drop of Finn’s bitter come in his mouth, running it over his tongue, his teeth. Then he swallowed it, savoring his mate’s pleasure.

Finn sagged back against the pillows, a sheen of sweat on his skin. Dante nuzzled the V of Finn’s thighs, trailed kisses along the swirls on Finn’s belly. “Mine,” he whispered, kissing up Finn’s chest, flicking his tongue over Finn’s nipples. Finn shivered.

“Yours,” Finn rasped, his pupils dilated.

Dante gathered his omega in his arms. Dragged his nose up Finn’s throat, breathing in dill and sweat and musk.

He was hard, himself, but there wasn’t time to fuck and knot. They risked being late for the vote.

Finn groaned. “Ugh, the vote. I’d almost forgotten about it.”

Dante winced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to remind you.”

He hugged Finn to himself, rolled over so Finn lay on his chest once more. Then Dante combed his fingers through Finn’s hair, stroking down his back. Touched Finn’s belly again, imagining it swelling with their pups.

Dante knew he was still a kid, himself. At twenty-five, it felt like he didn’t know enough, like he didn’t have enough to pass on to his pups. What good would he be as a father? He could work, care for them. He probably lacked in wisdom like Finn had, or Old Bill.

“You’ll be fine,” Finn said, stroking his fingers through Dante’s hair. “Don’t worry about that.”

Dante looked up at his mate, his heart heavy. “I didn’t have the greatest upbringing.”

“I’ll teach you,” Finn whispered, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “That’s why there’s two of us.”

“I’m a murderer, Finn.” There would always be that, too. “They’ll grow up with people telling them shit about me. Worse, throwing stones at them.”

“Then we’ll leave,” Finn said, kissing Dante softly on the lips. “If you raise our pups with love, they won’t hate you. Listening to stories of your past is one thing. But showing them kindness? They’ll remember that for life.”

“Doesn’t erase the fact that I’ve got blood on my hands,” Dante said.

Finn closed his fingers around Dante’s hands, brushing their lips together. “That’s not all of who you are, Dante. Remember that.”

Dante’s heart fluttered. Despite all the things he’d done wrong, despite the time they’d spent apart, Finn was still here with him. Finn was giving him the courage to stand up strong, give their pups a good future.

“I’ll do my best,” Dante said, kissing him on the lips.

Finn smiled, his eyes crinkling. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here,” he whispered.

“Same,” Dante said. “Anything for my mate.”

If they made it through the pack vote tonight... that was all Dante wanted right now. To have his mate and pups safe in his arms.

Everything else... that could wait.