Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt, letting it fall open. The mark sat over my heart like a brand, its strange shape pulsing faintly with an otherworldly light. In the city's neon glow filtering through my windows, it seemed to shift and move, as if responding to Sean's presence.
“Jaysus,” he breathed, one calloused hand coming up to hover over the mark without quite touching. “It's not just a scar, is it?”
I shivered as his fingers finally made contact, tracing the mark's outline with a reverence I'd never associated with the ruthless hunter. “No,” I admitted. “It's alive, somehow. Active. Sometimes when I sleep, I hear it calling.”
“Calling?” His touch was feather-light, but I felt it like electricity through every nerve. “What does it say?”
“I don't know. It's not words, exactly. More like...” I struggled to find the right description, my analytical mind trying tocategorize something beyond understanding. “Like music, but darker. Like something ancient trying to remember what it used to be.”
Sean's other hand came up to cup my face, turning me to meet his gaze. “And you've carried this alone all these years? Christ, Cade, no wonder you're exhausted.”
“I didn't know how to explain it. How do you tell people you hear voices in your dreams? That sometimes you feel power under your skin that no human should possess? There's no research protocol for this.”
“You tell someone who's seen enough impossible shite to believe you.” His thumb brushed my cheekbone, the gesture achingly gentle. “Someone who knows what it's like to carry something dark and still choose to be light.”
“Is that what I'm doing?” I couldn't help leaning into his touch. “Choosing?”
“Every day.” His smile was soft but certain. “Every time you help someone instead of turning away. Every time you fight monsters instead of becoming one.”
The mark pulsed between us, and Sean's eyes widened slightly. “It's responding to me,” he murmured. “Can you feel that?”
“Yeah.” I covered his hand with mine, pressing it more firmly against the mark. “It's never done this before. Never reacted to anyone like this. It doesn't match any of the patterns I've observed.”
“Maybe it knows something we don't.” His accent thickened slightly, the way it did when emotion got the better of him. “About why we found each other. About what we're meant to be.”
“Thought you didn't believe in destiny.”
“I believe in what I can see.” His eyes met mine, intense and certain. “What I can touch.” His fingers pressed against themark, sending sparks of sensation through my body. “What I can feel.”
“Sean...”
“Let me help you figure this out,” he said softly. “Let me be there. Not just as a hunter or an ally. As...”
“As what?”
Instead of answering, he kissed me again. But this time it wasn't about desperation or fear or the need to forget. This was slower, deeper, heavy with promise and possibility. His hands stayed on my skin, one over the mark and one cupping my face, holding me like something precious instead of something marked by darkness.
The mark hummed contentedly between us, its usual burning sensation transformed into something warmer, more welcoming. For the first time since that snowy night, it felt less like a burden and more like a gift.
“Together,” Sean murmured against my lips.
I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, seeing my own vulnerability reflected in his eyes. “You sure about this? Getting involved with me, it's complicated. Dangerous. All the evidence suggests this isn't going to end well.”
His laugh was low and rich. “Love, I hunt monsters for a living. Danger's not exactly a deterrent. And sometimes you've gotta stop analyzing and just take action.”
“This is different,” I insisted, even as my hands refused to let go of him.
“Good thing we've got backup then, yeah?” His smile turned wicked. “Between your fed friends and my hunter contacts, we've got a proper army brewing.”
The simple confidence in his voice made something warm unfurl in my chest. Because he was right, we weren't alone in this.
But most importantly, we had this connection, this understanding, this moment of perfect clarity in a world full of shadows.
Sean's hand was still over my heart, steady and warm against the mark that had defined my life for so long. But now, instead of feeling like a brand of ownership, it felt like something else.
“Together then,” I said softly, and felt his smile against my lips as he pulled me close again.
We moved in tandem toward the bedroom, neither willing to break contact for long. The hallway became a blur of half-shed clothing and stolen kisses. Sean paused at the doorway, his hands working at his belt with practiced ease. I watched, mesmerized, as he slid his pants down over lean muscle, the hunter's scars on his thighs telling stories I wanted to learn with my fingertips.