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force his attentions on someone, never been the type to abide by that behavior in others either.
    If this all works out, he’ll have plenty of time to teach Rafe the joys of pain, how a little bit can make the pleasure sweeter, can intensify the feeling until he aches with it. He’ll have years to break him in just right, to coax and soothe him until he trusts Josiah enough to give himself unflinchingly to any punishment that he might earn. Plenty of time to teach him that sometimes punishment can be its own reward. And if it doesn’t, 2then Josiah will make sure that Rafe never has to worry about anything ever again. He’ll make sure that he has a life that doesn’t involve the pleasure houses or another disastrous attempt at matching him with someone not of his choosing.
    If he has to rip Zweil House down with his bare hands he’ll make sure of it.
    The wounded submissive is studying him, arms slowly lowering back down until they’re resting at his sides even as his eyes continue to take in every detail of Josiah they can find. He hopes absently that Rafe finds him as pleasing as he finds Rafe. Neither of them bothers to acknowledge Marcel and Isaac when they quietly step out of the room to wait in the hall, closing the door softly behind them. They’re both entirely too occupied with observing each other.
    “You’re real.”
    Josiah stiffens slightly in surprise at the quiet and steady statement. It’s the last thing he’s expecting Rafe to say so all he can do is answer with the obvious truth.
    “Yes, I am.”
    “I thought…I thought I dreamt you, made you up so that I wouldn’t have to be alone when I…at the end.”
    He understands what Rafe’s saying, understands that the other man’s talking about when he tried to kill himself, and while he hates to even think about it he’s almost pleased by the fact that Rafe thinks he is worthy of being a fantasy of any sort. Even if it technically took place during a rather morbid and depressing situation, it still counted for something.
    “No, I was and am as real as you are. I was assigned to your retrieval and I tracked you to the Charred District. After everything that happened I stayed with you there until the medical unit arrived.”
    He doesn’t mention the week spent hovering at his bedside, intent on not disturbing the submissive or making him uncomfortable with possibly unwanted attention.
    “Madam Marcel said that you stayed with me the entire time, that today’s the first time you’ve left my side this entire week. Is that true?”
    Josiah doesn’t sigh but he doesn’t rebel against the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in amused frustration at Marcel’s ability to ruin his plans without even trying. Still he refuses to lie to Rafe, will not start off what he hopes will be a relationship between them with falsehoods and outright deceit.
    “Yes. I didn’t want you to wake up alone, and I don’t trust the staff here to keep the people who are supposed to stay out of your room actually out of it. Since I had the time and the will I decided to stay with you.”
    “That’s more than I could have ever hoped for. Thank you for going through so much trouble when you didn’t have to. I’m not your problem; I wasn’t supposed to be anyone’s problem anymore…” Rafe’s words trail off, the week he’s spent unconscious and the drugs that have been constantly pumping through his body dragging him back to sleep against his will.
    Josiah grits his teeth at the words; he knows that it is a bad idea to give into the urge to shake some sense into Rafe. He knows better than to lay hands on him despite the way he wants to do nothing more than to make Rafe swear to him that he’ll erase that way of thinking from his mind. Instead he wraps his hands tightly around the guardrail of the bed and stares down into green eyes that are beginning to droop in renewed exhaustion.
    2“You’re not a problem at all, and I’d be ready and willing to say