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Chapter 100 - Close to Death

(DYLAN'S POV)

FLASHBACK—Continuation.

We shoved the half-eaten steaks and half-full wine glasses aside without a second thought—plates clattering, red wine sloshing across the linen tablecloth like fresh blood—and staggered toward the bedroom like two drunk men who'd forgotten how to walk straight. Clothes were already coming off in the hallway: my shirt yanked over my head, his trousers shoved down those powerful thighs, both of us kicking off shoes and socks in a clumsy, desperate trail behind us. The apartment air felt thick and electric, heavy with the scent of candle smoke, rare meat, and the raw musk of two alphas so turned on we could barely breathe. We were ready—Gods, we were so fucking ready—to finally surrender to each other the way the bond had been begging us to since the moment we met.

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