Chapter 110: Smoked Bacon, Smoldering Looks

Kane’s eyes fluttered open to pre-dawn darkness, his body protesting with every small movement.

A deep ache radiated through his hips and thighs, muscles he’d forgotten he had screaming in complaint.

Disoriented, he blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling before memory crashed back in waves—Cyrus beneath him, above him, the dragon’s hands mapping every inch of his skin until Kane lost count of how many times they’d taken each other apart.

The room still held traces of their passion: rumpled sheets, the lingering scent of sweat and sex, Kane’s clothes scattered across the floor like battle casualties.

Beside him, Cyrus lay sprawled across the mattress, one arm flung over his eyes.

Even in sleep, the dragon looked regal, all sharp cheekbones and elegant lines. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, dark hair mussed beyond its usual perfect styling.

Kane shifted carefully, wincing as soreness flared through his lower back. The movement made Cyrus stir slightly, a soft sound escaping his lips.

The fox froze, not wanting to wake him.

Pale morning light crept through the curtains, casting silver shadows across Cyrus’s skin and highlighting the faint scratches Kane’s claws had left along his shoulders.

Kane’s cheeks burned as fragmented memories surfaced—riding Cyrus until they both shattered, then Cyrus flipping them over, taking Kane against the headboard while the fox begged for more.

He tested his weight on his legs, muscles protesting as he carefully swung them over the edge of the bed.

A shower sounded perfect—wash away the evidence of their night together, maybe make breakfast after.

The thought of cooking for Cyrus again sent warmth spreading through his chest, something domestic and right about the simple act.

He pushed himself up slowly, wincing as his thighs reminded him exactly how thoroughly Cyrus had claimed him.

The bathroom beckoned, promising hot water and a few minutes to process everything that had changed between them.

Kane took a cautious step toward the door, then another.

Just as he reached the foot of the bed, a strong arm shot out and wrapped around his waist.

Before Kane could react, Cyrus pulled him back onto the mattress with surprising strength for someone who appeared to be asleep.

Kane tumbled backward, landing against Cyrus’s chest.

"Cyrus?" Kane whispered, twisting to look at the dragon’s face.

Cyrus remained deeply unconscious, his breathing even despite the iron grip he maintained around Kane’s waist.

Cyrus tucked his chin over Kane’s head, one arm wrapped securely around him while the other curled beneath them both.

Kane found himself effectively trapped, cradled against Cyrus like a treasured possession the dragon refused to release.

Kane’s mind flashed back to the Onyx Motel—the way Cyrus had pulled him close in sleep, held him through the storm, then denied everything the next morning.

The dragon’s iron grip around his waist felt identical now, possessive and protective even in unconsciousness.

Last time, Cyrus had rewritten history, claimed Kane was violent in his sleep instead of acknowledging their intimate moment.

Would he do it again? Pretend this never happened, rebuild those walls he’d only just started tearing down?

Kane tested the hold experimentally, trying to shift away.

Cyrus’s arm tightened immediately, a soft rumble vibrating through his chest as he unconsciously pulled Kane closer.

The shower could wait. Breakfast could wait.

This—being loved, being held like something precious—this was rarer than any mythical artifact.

Kane relaxed into Cyrus’s embrace, letting himself savor the warmth spreading through his chest.

The dragon’s steady heartbeat against his back, the way Cyrus’s fingers splayed protectively across his ribs, the soft exhale that stirred Kane’s hair.

He’d spent so long believing love was something that happened to other people.

But here, wrapped in Cyrus’s arms, Kane felt the truth settle deep in his bones.

He was loved completely, claimed utterly.

The fox spirit closed his eyes and let himself drift back to sleep.

Hours later, the acrid smell of burning food jolted Kane from sleep.

His eyes snapped open to bright sunlight streaming through the windows and an empty bed beside him.

The sheets where Cyrus had been were already cool to the touch.

Smoke.

Kane’s fox instincts screamed danger as the unmistakable scent of something charring reached his nose.

He bolted upright, ignoring the sharp protest from his abused muscles, and stumbled toward the bedroom door.

"Cyrus?"

His bare feet hit the cold marble floor of the hallway as he rushed toward the kitchen.

Kane rounded the corner and froze.

Cyrus stood at the stove, still gloriously half naked, wielding a spatula like a weapon against a pan that was definitely on fire.

Smoke billowed from whatever remained of what might have once been bacon and eggs.

The dragon’s usually perfect hair stuck up at odd angles, and his expression held the same focused intensity he used when battling rogue spirits—except this time, he was losing to breakfast.

"What are you doing?" Kane asked, torn between laughter and horror as Cyrus jabbed at the burning mess.

Cyrus turned at Kane’s voice, spatula still raised defensively against the smoldering pan.

Kane reached around Cyrus and snatched the pan with a dish towel, yanking it off the burner, his bare chest brushing against the dragon’s arm.

"I wanted to—" Cyrus started, then stopped as Kane bent to retrieve a dropped piece of bacon from the floor.

The fox’s tail swished deliberately, the silver fur brushed against Cyrus’s thigh.

"Wanted to what?" Kane asked innocently, straightening slowly. He turned to face Cyrus, close enough that their bodies nearly touched.

"Make me breakfast in bed?"

Cyrus’s pupils dilated, his breathing shallow. "Something like that."

Kane stretched up on his toes to reach the cabinet above Cyrus’s head, pressing against him completely.

His tail curled around Cyrus’s wrist as he grabbed fresh eggs.

"Well," Kane purred, dropping back down but not stepping away, "lucky for you, I actually know how to cook."

Cyrus’s hands clenched at his sides, jaw tight with restraint.

"Kane."

"Hmm?" Kane cracked an egg one-handed, tail still swishing teasingly.

Cyrus’s voice dropped to a growl.

"You’re playing with fire."

Kane grinned.

"Good thing dragons like fire."