The one on the right stepped forward, smile gentle. “I’m Rex.”
The other gave me a wink. “Balto.”
I laughed. “What, like the cartoon dogs?”
“Exactly like the cartoon dogs,” Rex said with a grin.
They circled me slowly, like I was a fire they were warming their hands around. Their fingertips brushed my arms, my waist, the curve of my hip. But it wasn’t lewd. It was reverent. Like they were checking to see if I was real. Like I was the dream.
“Why am I here?” I asked, breathless.
“Because you’re meant to be,” Rex said softly, his hand cupping my cheek.
“Because we found you,” added Balto, his lips grazing the shell of my ear.
I shivered.
Their scent hit me then—earthy, masculine, addictive. Like woodsmoke and amber and the last safe place on Earth.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Ba
