The world outside still howled with winter's fury, but inside Theron's chambers, it was quiet.
Not the dangerous kind of quiet, but the kind that feels sacred fragile and full of meaning. The kind of silence that dared them to speak truth, or ruin it all with a single lie.
Noah lay back against the thick furs piled on the floor near the hearth, golden firelight painting his skin in honeyed streaks. His hair was tousled from Theron's fingers. His lips slightly swollen from the way the Alpha had kissed him like he was something between salvation and sin.
Theron sat beside him, one knee drawn up, his hand absently grazing Noah's wrist. Like he was afraid that if he let go, even for a moment, Noah might vanish.
Noah tilted his head toward him. "You ever going to tell me what happened, Theron?"
The Alpha's mouth flattened. "Which part?"
"The one that makes your eyes look like they're still bleeding."
Silence again thick this time.
But then, Theron looked at him. Really looked at him. "I killed my brother."
Noah didn't flinch. Didn't speak. Just waited.
"I didn't want to lead. He did. Always did. He trained for it, bled for it. I never asked for the title. Never wanted the crown or the chains that came with it."
Theron's voice was low, hollow. "He challenged me for the pack. Said I was too soft. That I'd never be strong enough to protect them. That I'd get us all killed."
"And you fought him," Noah said softly.
"I begged him not to. Told him I'd step down. That he could have it."
Theron's throat bobbed. "He said if I was too weak to fight, I was too weak to live."
The fire popped behind them.
"I killed him," Theron repeated, quieter now. "I didn't want to. But I couldn't let him take the pack down with his fury. He would've razed every border. Declared war on every rival. I protected them. And now… now they fear me."
Noah reached up, cupping his jaw, gently guiding Theron's gaze back to him. "I don't."
"No," Theron rasped, leaning in until their foreheads touched. "You never did. Even when you should have."
Noah smiled, a little sad, a little fierce. "I saw the truth. Even when you tried to bury it under growls and orders and that infuriating scowl of yours."
Theron chuckled softly, the sound like gravel and warmth. "Infuriating, huh?"
"I said what I said."
Theron's fingers slid down Noah's arm, lingering at his elbow, his touch barely there. "You're the only one who sees me like this. Like I'm not just the Alpha. Like I'm still… a man."
"You are a man," Noah whispered. "A man with blood on his hands, but a heart that still beats for his pack. For me."
Theron moved then slow and deliberate. He leaned over Noah, one hand braced beside his head, the other skimming down his side, memorizing the feel of him.
He kissed him, and it wasn't desperate this time.
It was reverent.
Like an apology.
Like a prayer.
Noah moaned into it, arching just slightly, and Theron deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against his, fingers tangling in the shirt that still clung to Noah's frame.
When they pulled back, they were breathing heavy, but not from lust alone.
From everything between them.
"I want to be worthy of you," Theron whispered.
"You already are," Noah said. "Now let me show you."
And in that firelit cocoon of warmth and truth, they touched not to claim, not to consume but to heal.
To hold.
To belong.