Aiden paced.
Once. Twice. Then again, sharp turns wearing a path into the den floor.
The sun had fully set. The den smelled wrong—empty of moonlight, empty of him. No Theron. No familiar gravity that usually settled Aiden's wolf the moment the alpha-king stepped inside.
"He said he'd be back before dark," Aiden muttered, tugging his cloak tighter around himself. "Patrol doesn't take this long."
His wolf bristled.
Gone too long.
Aiden stopped pacing.
"…No," he told it firmly. "We are not doing this. I'm not some—some worried omega pacing the den like—"
His stomach fluttered.
He scowled. "Traitor."
Ten minutes later, he was already halfway to the city.
The night air was sharp, cool against his skin as he moved fast—too fast for someone who was definitely resting like the healer said. His wolf pushed him forward, impatient and prickly.
By the time the city lights came into view, Aiden knew exactly where Theron would be.
And sure enough—
The bar was loud. Warm. Reeking of alcohol, smoke, and too many unfamiliar scents layered thick in the air.
Aiden stepped inside and immediately grimaced.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me."
Theron was exactly where he'd been last time. Same bar. Same stupid stool. Same relaxed sprawl like he owned the place—which, honestly, he probably did.
Aiden spotted him instantly.
White hair loose over his shoulders, one arm resting on the counter, the other holding a glass he definitely shouldn't be drinking anymore. A human bartender leaned a little too close, laughing at something Theron had said.
Aiden's eye twitched.
His wolf growled.
Low. Audible.
Heads turned.
Theron froze.
Then—slowly—he turned.
Golden eyes met blue.
Theron's expression went from relaxed to oh no in half a second.
"…Aiden."
Aiden crossed the bar in long strides, boots echoing like a threat. He stopped directly in front of Theron, planted his hands on the counter, and leaned in.
"You," he said flatly, "are late."
Theron opened his mouth.
Aiden cut him off. "And don't say 'I lost track of time' because you are an immortal god who literally controls the moon."
A few nearby patrons went very still.
Theron cleared his throat. "I—was invited."
Aiden glanced pointedly at the bartender. Then back at Theron.
"Oh, were you."
The bartender took one look at Aiden's expression and wisely backed away. "Uh. I'm gonna—check the back."
Smart human.
Theron sighed. "I didn't mean to worry you."
"I wasn't worried," Aiden snapped instantly.
His wolf barked inside his head.
Theron raised an eyebrow.
"…You came all the way to the city."
"I was already out," Aiden lied badly. "Needed air."
"You tracked me."
Aiden's jaw clenched. "…Maybe."
Theron smiled.
That was it. That was the moment.
Aiden leaned in closer, dropping his voice. "Why are you here."
Theron hesitated.
Aiden's irritation sharpened immediately. "Theron."
"I wanted one drink," Theron said carefully. "One. Somewhere that wasn't the pack. Somewhere quiet."
Aiden glanced around the bar, loud with laughter and clinking glasses. "You have a very strange definition of quiet."
Theron huffed a laugh. "Fair."
Aiden exhaled through his nose, then frowned. His hand drifted—without permission—toward his abdomen, fingers pressing briefly like he was grounding himself.
Theron noticed instantly.
His smile faded. "You shouldn't be out this late."
Aiden bristled. "Don't."
"I'm not—"
"You are," Aiden snapped. "You disappear, and suddenly I'm the problem for coming to find you?"
Theron softened. "I should've told you."
"Yes," Aiden said sharply. "You should have."
Silence settled between them, tense but not angry—just stretched thin.
Then Aiden added, quieter, "…You smell like alcohol."
Theron grimaced. "I didn't even finish it."
"Good," Aiden said, then paused. "…It smells awful."
Theron blinked. "It always smells like this."
"Well it doesn't today," Aiden muttered, nose wrinkling. "It's offensive."
Theron laughed again, this time gentle. "All right. Point taken."
He stood, tall and unmistakable, and slid the glass away. "Let's go home."
Aiden straightened, trying very hard not to look relieved.
As they turned to leave, a woman near the door looked Theron up and down and smiled. "Hey, you leaving already?"
Before Theron could answer, Aiden stepped forward.
"Yes," he said sweetly. Dangerously. "He is."
Theron choked.
The woman blinked, took one look at Aiden's expression, and decided she valued her life. "Right. Cool. Have a…good night."
Outside, the night air felt cleaner. Quieter.
Aiden walked a few steps ahead, then slowed when Theron didn't immediately follow.
"You mad?" Theron asked.
Aiden scoffed. "No."
A beat.
"…Maybe a little."
Theron smiled, warm and fond. "I'll come straight home next time."
Aiden glanced back. "…You better."
His wolf curled contentedly.
Theron didn't even wait until they reached the den.
By the time Aiden had kicked off his boots and dropped onto the furs with a tired huff, Theron was already moving—cloak set aside, hands busy, presence deliberate.
"I brought food," Theron said.
Aiden lifted his head suspiciously. "You always bring food."
"Yes," Theron agreed calmly, producing a wrapped bundle. "But this time it's the kind you didn't throw up last week."
Aiden scowled. "…That was one time."
Theron knelt beside him and unwrapped the bundle. Warm bread. Roasted meat. Something sweet that smelled faintly of honey and berries.
Aiden's stomach betrayed him immediately.
It growled.
Traitorous. Loud. Enthusiastic.
Aiden froze.
Theron did not comment. He simply held the food closer, patient as the moon rising. "Eat," he said softly.
Aiden eyed him. "You're being weird."
"I'm being attentive."
"That's worse."
Still—Aiden took the bread. Then the meat. Then, reluctantly, the sweet thing.
He ate slower than usual, like he was testing each bite, waiting for it to turn on him. It didn't. Instead, warmth spread through his chest, easing the tightness that had been coiled there all evening.
"…Okay," Aiden muttered. "This one's acceptable."
Theron smiled like he'd won a war.
When Aiden finished, Theron shifted closer behind him, settling carefully on the furs. Strong hands came to rest at Aiden's shoulders, thumbs pressing in slow, practiced circles.
Aiden tensed out of habit—then sighed despite himself.
"Theron…"
"Just a massage," Theron murmured. "No arguing. The healer said rest."
"I am resting."
"You hunted yesterday."
"I walked aggressively."
Theron's hands slid lower, easing the ache along Aiden's back, careful to avoid pressure that made him flinch. Aiden melted inch by inch, shoulders loosening, tail flicking lazily behind him.
"…You're doing this because of the bar," Aiden said.
"Yes."
"And because you're worried."
"Yes."
"And because you feel guilty."
Theron hummed. "Also yes."
Aiden snorted, then went quiet again, eyes half-lidded. His wolf purred, curling contentedly beneath his ribs.
They stayed like that for a while—just breathing.
Then, very casually, like he wasn't dropping a bomb into the den, Theron said,"…Do you want to look at baby names?"
Aiden froze.
Full system shutdown.
"…What."
Theron paused the massage instantly. "Too soon?"
Aiden turned his head slowly, blue eyes sharp. "You said that like it was a normal question."
Theron blinked. "Is it not?"
"I am barely accepting that this is happening," Aiden said, voice strained. "And you're already naming them?"
"Them?" Theron repeated, hopeful.
"Don't," Aiden warned. "Don't you dare."
Theron bit his lip. Failed to hide his smile.
Aiden looked away, cheeks warm. "…I'm not saying no."
Theron's expression softened immediately.
"We don't have to decide anything," he said gently. "Just…think. Imagine."
Aiden grumbled. "You're impossible."
"And yet," Theron murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to Aiden's temple, "you chose me."
Aiden's wolf leaned into the touch.
"…If you suggest something ancient and dramatic," Aiden muttered, "I will bite you."
Theron smiled against his hair. "Noted."
The den felt warmer after that. Safer. Like the future—terrifying and impossible—was sitting quietly with them, waiting its turn.
And for the first time, Aiden didn't push the thought away.