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Cassian was pink-cheeked and luminous under the pub’s low lighting, his second Rekorderlig already half-gone, and he had half the bar laughing. “Also.” Cassian swivelled on his stool to address the wider section of the bar that was now paying attention. “I got an annulment today!”

Sandra leaned both forearms on the bar. “Congratulations, love.”

“Thank you. My solicitor says the marriage is void, which means it never existed, which is very confusing because I definitely remember it existing, but the important part is that I never have to see Charles Townsend ever again!”

Tall Dave raised his glass. “To never seeing Charles bloody Townsend again.”

Glasses clinked down the bar. Someone Ruari couldn’t see from the far end of the bar called out, “What did Charles do, then?” and Cassian said, “He was very unkind to me.” The far end of the bar stopped talking.

A third Rekorderlig materialised at Cassian’s elbow, bought by Rick, who told Cassian he had “the right attitude about it, mate,” and Cassian thanked him with a small bow.

At some point, Cassian migrated from his stool to Ruari’s lap. He looped both arms around Ruari’s neck while he held court, explaining that photosynthesis and love were essentially the same process, because both involved taking in light and converting it to something that sustained you.

“That’s beautiful,” Sandra said.

“Colin taught me that,” Cassian said. “Well, he taught me the photosynthesis part. I added the love bit myself.”

Ruari rested his chin on Cassian’s shoulder and let the noise of the pub go on around him. His omega sat warm in his lap, charming his people.

He was deep in it with Geoff and Rick, pulling apart Villa’s defensive line when he realised mid-stream that he hadn’t heard Cassian’s voice in a while.

Ruari glanced down at his omega.

Cassian’s face had gone grey-green under the pub lights, a cold sweat across his forehead. His eyes were half-closed, and he was slumped into Ruari’s chest, dead weight.

“Cass.” Ruari shifted him higher on his lap. “You good?”

Cassian’s eyes couldn’t track him. He blinked and tried to smile, but the smile sat on the surface of his face without connecting to anything behind it.

“Cass?”

“Mm.” Cassian’s head lolled sideways against Ruari’s shoulder.

Right. He was done for the night, then. Ruari drained the last of his pint and thumped Geoff on the arm. “We’re heading off, mate.”

Geoff leaned around him to look at Cassian, whose eyes had closed entirely. “Want me to call a cab?”

“Nah. Five-minute walk.” Ruari eased Cassian off his lap, taking his weight as Cassian’s feet found the floor. “Come on, love. Get those gorgeous legs of yours working.”

Cassian’s legs did not come on. His knees buckled on the second step, and Ruari caught him under the arms before he hit the sticky carpet. Sandra called something from behind the bar that Ruari didn’t hear. He was busy repositioning the boneless omega.

He got Cassian to the door by holding him upright with one arm banded around his ribs, Cassian’s feet dragging between his own in a shuffling parody of walking.

They made it six metres before Cassian’s legs gave out. His head tipped back, and his body went slack, his whole weight dropping into Ruari’s arm.

Ruari crouched, hooked one arm under Cassian’s knees, and stood. Cassian’s head dropped into the hollow of his shoulder, his face turned into Ruari’s neck, his breathing shallow and even.

He weighed nothing. “We’ll be home in a second, and I’ll get you sorted.” Ruari walked through the amber pools of the streetlamps with Cassian curled against his chest, unconscious, trusting, and entirely his.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The shop key was in his back pocket, which was a problem when both his arms were occupied with nine stone of unconscious omega.

Ruari hoisted Cassian higher and bent sideways, fishing the key out with two fingers while Cassian’s head lolled against his collarbone. He got the lock on the third attempt and shouldered the door open.

Getting Cassian up a narrow staircase required a fireman’s carry, which was neither romantic nor dignified but got the job done. Ruari ducked him under the doorframe at the top, crossed the flat, and laid him on the bed.

Cassian lay where he’d been placed. Ruari watched his chest rise and fall. He crouched at the foot of the bed and unlaced each trainer, working the heel free without jostling either foot, then lined them up beside the bedside table. Undressing Cassian beyond that was a non-starter. Cassian’s limbs were heavy as flour sacks right then, so his jeans were staying where they were.