By morning, Arik's rut had dimmed enough for reason to become useful again.
It had not ended.
Liam discovered that immediately when he woke with Arik pressed along his back, one heavy arm locked around his waist, and warm pheromones saturating the sheets. The bedroom smelled overwhelmingly of caramel, warm stone, and saint's breath, with the faint mineral sharpness of sovereign ether lingering underneath.
His body complained when he shifted.
Liam stopped.
Perhaps provoking a suppressed rut had required slightly more consideration.
Behind him, Arik stirred. His arm tightened before his eyes even opened, dragging Liam back against his chest with an instinctive possessiveness that made Liam reconsider his conclusion.
Perhaps not.
"You're awake," Arik murmured against his hair.
"So are you."
Arik buried his face briefly against the back of Liam's neck and inhaled.
The effect on his pheromones was immediate.
