Bound To My Protector Mate
Holding On, Even When It Hurts
Rigel shifted, propping himself on one elbow, his eyes tracing over Daniel’s face as if committing every detail to memory.
“Tell me something real,” he murmured.
Daniel blinked at him, amused. “What?”
“Something real,” Rigel repeated, a small, tired smile pulling at his lips. “No war, no fate, no prophecies. Just… something about you. Something normal.”
Daniel hesitated, then sighed, tilting his head back against the pillow. “I always wanted a dog.”
Rigel let out a soft, surprised laugh. “A dog?”
Daniel nodded. “When I was a kid, I used to beg my parents for one. A golden retriever, specifically. I even had a name picked out—Loki.”
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