Damian wasn’t sure why he’d asked. It was a foolish thing to do and if there was anything that might give him away, it would be that.

But when Salem peered out of the bathroom, his ears half-flat with stress, it was all Damian could do not to cry.

A long silver muzzle curved into a slender head. The fur went from hoarfrost on his nose to a deep pewter gray behind his ears and when he stepped cautiously the rest of the way out of the bathroom, Damian could see that the pewter color continued all the way down his body, only fading as it crept down his legs.

He was so beautiful, and not just because it had been ten years since Damian had seen one of his people in this other exquisite form.

In a single bound, Salem crossed the room and leaped up onto the other end of the bed, but that he was still wary of Damian’s intentions was obvious.

Damian balled his hands in the rumpled covers of the bed. He had to—if he wasn’t gripping those sheets to the point of pain, he would have already been reaching for the other shifter.

This had been a terrible idea. But would he go back in time and make a different decision?

Not a chance.

Salem lowered his head and his ear perked up a little. Damian watched him, his knuckles aching with the strength of his grip. Salem took a tentative step in his direction, then another, and Damian held his breath, waiting, hoping.

When Salem put his nose up to sniff Damian’s ear, Damian closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. The smell of fur, that specific sound that a wolf made when scenting, the warmth of Salem’s body beating off his skin, it all came together to nearly drown Damian in memories. His mother, gone to ashes now. His brothers and sisters—betas and gammas all of them, except for Val, the little adopted omega, so different from the rest of them. Gone to ashes now too, before Damian could come back for him.

Salem moved in closer, his fur brushing against Damian’s cheek. One paw touched lightly down on his shoulder and was gone again and then the mattress shifted beneath Damian’s hip. When he opened his eyes, Salem was sitting beside him and while Damian just stared at him and breathed in his scent, Salem gently stretched his neck out and laid his head on Damian’s shoulder in an obvious invitation.

Damian's hands shook as he reached for the other shifter and buried his fingers in the thick ruff. He didn't trust his voice, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he tried to show his gratitude by being respectful of Salem's body, staying away from throat and belly, ears and face. He teased the strands of fur apart, marveling at their beauty. His family had all been the usual color, a mottled mix of brown and gray and white. Salem looked like a sculpture created to grace the home of some rich human. His undercoat in particular was downy soft, creating the irresistible temptation to dig his fingers down into it.

Salem was remarkably patient through all his handling. In fact, as Damian continued to comb through the fur, breathing in the scent of shifter and home that the movements released, the tension in Salem's body began to disappear. His ears relaxed and he settled his weight more heavily on Damian's shoulder, eyes half closed. A small groan of contentment vibrated against Damian's shoulder and the omega began to sway slightly with the movements of Damian's hands.

Damian played with his fur a few minutes more, painting the inside of his nose with the smell and fixing these memories in his brain. He could never come back here, he knew that. If he did, the temptation to confess everything in an attempt to forge a new pack would overwhelm him. Whatever he could take from this night would have to do him for the rest of his life.

It made sense now why there weren't many shifters in his agency. He wondered how many went entirely lunar and had to be killed—that was the only recourse with true moon madness. When would it happen to him? After tonight, he thought it would be sooner rather than later. He'd miss this too much, need the touch and smell of fur, the sweet scent of the omega beside him.

Probably for the best. He couldn't imagine another forty years of this...longing. "Thank you," he said softly. "You have no idea how grateful I am for this, I can't even tell you." He breathed in a last deep lungful of Salem's scent and moved carefully out from under the shifter's weight. "I'll go now, but I want you to know that I regret nothing I did this night, except where I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean that. You're beautiful and you deserve everything good in the world." He reached for his shirt and started to pull it on, but was caught in the watching gold of Salem's eyes. "It's okay. I expect to see the charge for the whole four hours on my card. If I don't, I'll call and complain."

Salem snorted at him, then jumped down off the bed and trotted into the bathroom. Before Damian had his shoes on, Salem was standing in human form, framed in the doorway to the bathroom.

"You're welcome to have a shower before you go," he said, his words ending on an upward lilt of invitation.

"I don't want to trouble you—"

"It's a very nice shower." Again that upward lilt, and Salem had turned in the doorway to lean his shoulders against the frame, head tipped back and tilted a bit toward Damian so that his throat was both vulnerably exposed and protected by the line of his jaw. "It's big enough for two." One hand moved, stroking down over his hip and onto his thigh. He was aroused again and if it was still somewhat guarded, his posture was welcoming. "Let's not waste this last forty-five minutes."

As if he were under Salem's spell, as if the omega’s very name had brought him powers from the old myths, Damian found himself walking toward the bathroom door. Salem smiled invitingly and turned Damian so he could look inside.

It was a nice shower. Even nicer were the warm hands sneaking up underneath his shirt, skimming the waistband of his pants in search of the button. Salem undid the fastenings and worked his hands inside, until he could cup Damian's erection.

"Mmm," Salem murmured against the back of his neck. "What do you say? Ever had an omega in a shower?"

Damian swallowed hard, but made no protest as Salem stripped his clothes off him again and then led him into the big, stand-up shower.