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Roman looked at the boy—really looked at him. He took in the pale complexion, the dark bruises showing under his eyes, and realized how exhausted the young man must really be. Danny looked tired, not in the way of someone who’d just had a long night, but in the way of someone who had been working too hard for too long with no one to take care of him. And that, Roman decided, just would not do. Ours, his demon rumbled. Ours, he agreed.
“No buts, little king. I am realizing I have made an error. I have underestimated the trauma you hold. But if you need me to tell you every single day that I am staying, I will tell you. Gladly. Often. Always. That I am yours. Forever, if you will have me.”

