"Fine." Kane's tails curled tight. "But I want updates. Every step."
"Deal."
Cyrus sealed the promise with a kiss—brief, consuming, tasting of desperation and saltwater.
Kane melted into it, fingers tangling in wet fabric as Cyrus's warmth sank through him.
The headache still pulsed behind his eyes, but Cyrus's presence dulled the edge.
When they broke apart, Kane's ears flicked back.
"How long?"
"Until Elias surfaces?" Cyrus straightened, already shifting into tactical mode. "I expect seventy two hours. Maybe less."
Kane's stomach dropped.
Three days left of peace before everything went to hell.
Cyrus's lips curved into something genuine—rare and devastating in its softness.
"Better start planning on how to make the most of the days we have."
Kane's throat tightened.
If the plan failed, these would be his last days with Cyrus. Period.
