Chapter 204: Don’t. I’m Not Saying Anything.

"Have her dressed next time I come back." Astra slung her bag over her shoulder on her way out behind the High Luna. "One hour each. That’s it. Skin to skin, pull the fever, swap out, and if either of you escalates past that, I sedate you both and do it myself." She stopped in the doorway. "Mindlink me the second her fever climbs. I mean the second."

Then she was gone, and it was just the two brothers, the Beta nobody had asked, and the unconscious woman they’d both marked.

Derek reached for the chemise laid out for her. Landon reached for it at the exact same moment.

For one long, charged second, two Alphas who commanded lightning were engaged in a silent, furious tug-of-war over a single piece of silk.

It ripped straight down the middle.

"Fine." Landon held his half aloft. "We both dress her."

"We are NOT both dressing her, Landon, that’s insane. She’s my mate."

"Then leave. She’s MY mate."

"You leave."

Tavian looked at the two halves of the chemise. Then at the two Alphas, each gripping one. Then at the unconscious woman who was going to wake up owning half a garment.

"So. The High Luna put me in charge." He addressed the room at large. "And I’ve decided my first executive act as the man in charge is to not be in this room for whatever this is about to become." He backed towards the doorway with both hands raised. "You’re both grown. You both control the weather. I have faith you can, between the two of you, figure out a nightgown. If one of you dies, mindlink me, I’ll act surprised."

He opened it, stepped through, then leaned back in.

"Oh. And the fever. Her." He pointed emphatically at Nova. "Remember her. The actual patient. The reason any of us are standing in a flooded room at midnight. One hour each. Touch her, not each other." He grimaced. "That came out wrong. I need another drink."

Then he was gone, and it was just the two brothers, half a chemise each, and the woman between them who had no idea she’d started a war.

Derek dropped his half, climbed into the bed, and pulled Nova on top of him. Bare. Her cheek settling into the hollow of his shoulder, her body draped over his, nothing between them.

"Derek." Landon’s voice went low and dangerous. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"She’s fine." Derek’s arms locked around her. "She’s woken up naked with me before, Landon, because she’s my mate. She’s comfortable with me."

"Astra wants her dressed. I don’t want her touching you."

"Too bad."

Landon crossed to his closet, pulled a fresh chemise off the shelf, and hurled it at his brother’s head.

"If you don’t put it on her," Landon stated, "I will rip the comforter and the sheets off that bed right now."

Which would put her bare in front of Landon, and Derek realized a half-second too late that this was the one outcome he wanted even less than Landon seeing her in a chemise. He snatched the silk and slid it over her head, easing it down, muttering the whole way.

"There. Happy?"

"No." Landon lobbed a pair of cotton pants at him. "Put on some goddamn clothes."

"Crimeny." Derek caught them against Nova’s back. "What is your problem. I’ll just take her to my chambers and you can stand in here glaring at the wall by yourself."

"My problem is your dick is on my mate."

???

HOUR ONE

The timer chimed its first swap an hour past midnight.

Landon was on his feet before the sound finished. "That’s me."

"She’s comfortable." Derek didn’t move. "Look at her. She’s out. You pick her up, you wake her."

"Astra said an hour each. It’s been an hour."

"It’s been fifty-eight minutes."

Landon held up the holo-watch. 1:00:03. "It’s been an hour and three seconds."

Derek stared at the glowing numbers like they’d personally betrayed him. Then he rose, slow, cradling her the whole way, and set her into his brother’s arms with the grudging precision of a man handing over something he fully intended to steal back.

"Support her neck."

"I know how to hold her, Derek."

"You held her like luggage all week."

"She fell asleep on me. Voluntarily. Every night." Landon settled her against his chest and dropped onto his side of the bed.

"Bullshit."

"Not bullshit."

???

HOUR TWO

"You’re letting the ice slide off."

"I’m adjusting it."

"It’s been off her shoulder for a full minute, Derek. I can see it from here."

Derek repositioned the pack without looking up. "She runs warm on the left side. You’d know that if you’d ever actually paid attention to her shoulder instead of just wrapping it to look busy."

"I wrapped that shoulder four times a day for a week."

"And it’s still bothering her, so clearly you were doing it wrong."

Landon’s lamp flickered. He breathed it back down, because the alternative was blowing out the backup lights too, and then neither of them could see the timer.

???

HOUR THREE

Something had gone wrong, and the wrong thing was that they’d gotten good at it.

The timer chimed. Derek lifted. Landon lowered. Nova passed between them in one smooth, unbroken motion, her head cradled, her shoulder supported, her body never once jostled, two sets of hands working in a rhythm so seamless it looked rehearsed.

They both froze.

"Don’t," Landon warned.

"I’m not saying anything."

"You’re thinking it."

"I’m thinking that we’ve clearly done enough things together as children for our bodies to default to teamwork, and I find it disgusting, and I’d like it on the record that I hate this."

"Noted." Landon settled her in. "Hate it right back."

???

HOUR FOUR

4:11 a.m.

Two shirtless Alphas sat on opposite sides of the bed, hollow-eyed, trading a woman and a single ice pack back and forth in whispers, because at some point in the last hour they’d both lowered their voices and neither could remember agreeing to.

"You’ve got the ice," Derek murmured.

"It’s my hour."

"I’m not asking for the hour. I’m asking for the ice."

"The ice stays with her. She’s with me. Therefore the ice is with me. It’s not complicated."

"It’s one ice pack, Landon."

"Then don’t let it get cold next time and we won’t have this problem."

"Ice is supposed to be cold."

Landon paused, too tired to work out whether he’d lost that one. He glanced at the timer instead.

4:14:59.

It chimed.

Both of them moved at once, no words, no argument, the handoff flowing clean as water, and the woman between them slept through every second of it, warm and feverish and somewhere deep in a dream about running on four legs through pine and snow, with no earthly idea that she’d set the two most powerful men in Thunderfang against each other, or that they’d spent the entire night taking the fever out of her one careful, furious hour at a time.