Leon steered the SUV away from the city lights. The road narrowed, trees closing in like dark curtains as they climbed toward the ridge.

"Are you getting rid of the lamb?" Lucien asked, clutching his seatbelt. "He's only nine percent used. It's too early to toss him."

Leon's mouth quirked. He didn't look away from the road. "I'm keeping you for life, baby. I couldn't throw you away if I tried."

The car stopped in a gravel clearing. A dark silhouette loomed ahead, a helicopter, rotors already spinning a slow, heavy rhythm.

Lucien froze in his seat. "Are you... deporting me?"

Leon laughed, a low, rough sound. He leaned over and unbuckled Lucien's seatbelt. "It's New Year's, baby. We need to do something memorable."

Lucien scrambled out of the car—eyes wide as he stared at the bird. "A helicopter ride? Seth—Leon! Are you serious?"

"Would I lie to you?"

Leon guided him toward the craft—hand firm on Lucien's lower back. The staff handed them noise-canceling headphones.

Lucien nudged Leon's arm as they strapped in. "When did you plan this? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I did," Leon noted—smirking as the engines roared to life.

Leon pulled Lucien into his chest. He didn't wait for the ascent. He leaned down and claimed Lucien's mouth in a deep, possessive kiss.

The helicopter lifted—the ground falling away as they ascended into the winter sky.

Lucien pulled back—breathless. He looked out the window. New York was a sea of shimmering amber and neon beneath his feet.

He felt light. Free.

Lucien took Leon's hand—drawing a small heart on his palm.

Leon's fingers curled shut—trapping the gesture in his grip.

Lucien blinked at him, pouting his lips for an air-kiss. Happy New Year. I love you.

---

The Switzerland trip was two days away. Lucien was buried in a pile of knits in the walk-in closet, his rounded rear poking out from behind a suitcase.

"What are you doing, baby?" Leon asked, walking in after a phone call.

"Packing," Lucien said, popping his head up. "When do we leave? I need more outfits."

"Two days," Leon said, plucking a thin blue sweater from the pile. "This one's old. Use the one the brand sent yesterday. It fits you better."

He began tossing Lucien's choices back onto the shelves. Lucien plopped onto the floor—glaring up at the boxer. "Fine. You pack then."

"I wasn't counting on you anyway," Leon teased, scooping Lucien up and setting him on the island counter. "Stay there. I've got this."

"I'm useless," Lucien pouted.

Leon squeezed Lucien's thigh—his gaze darkening. "You have plenty of uses, baby."

Lucien hissed. "Keep your hands to yourself."

"I'm not the one who kicks in my sleep," Leon countered. "You put a foot in my face last night."

Lucien's eyes went wide. "Did you lick it?"

Leon's jaw tightened. He swatted Lucien's rear. "Get down."

Leon's packing was surgical. One suitcase for essentials—the other for Lucien's vanity.

Lucien peeked into a side pocket, finding a heavy, rectangular box. He opened it and froze.

It was a mountain of foil squares and amber-colored lube.

"What is this for?" Lucien gasped. "We're only going for a few days!"

Leon didn't look up from a folded shirt. "I know you like the 'interesting' stuff, baby. But if I don't use these, you'll end up with a fever again."

Lucien stomped his foot. "I mean why are there so many?!"

"Don't worry," Leon whispered, his voice dropping to that lethal, gravelly depth. "We'll use every single one."

Lucien's lower back already felt a phantom ache. "I'm ordering a separate room. I'm not staying with you."

Leon smirked. "In your dreams, baby."

The cabin was a dream of cedar and glass. The window looked directly onto the white, jagged peaks of the Alps.

Lucien ran through the rooms, finally settling in a chair by the massive window. "Seth! Take a picture!"

Leon had spent a fortune on camera equipment and hours on tutorials. He wasn't going to be the "bad photographer boyfriend."

"Tilt your head," Leon commanded, the shutter clicking. "Perfect. Smile for me, baby."

Lucien scrambled over to see the screen. "You're getting good!"

Leon set the camera aside. He caught Lucien by the waist—pulling him flush against his chest.

He leaned down, his mouth capturing Lucien's in a slow, hungry exploration.

"Not yet," Lucien muffled—trying to pull back. "The slopes are open!"

"The flight was long," Leon noted—his mouth trailing down Lucien's neck. "Skiing is for tomorrow. Today we rest. Explore the town."

Lucien sighed—leaning into the heat. "Fine. I'm going to change."

He pointed to the massive stone fireplace. "Tonight, we're sitting there. Blankets. Mulled wine. No arguments."

Leon didn't mention Lucien's five-sip alcohol limit. "Whatever the boss wants."

Lucien headed for the attic bedroom. He picked out a cream, long-haired sweater and fitted denim.

The V-neck dipped low—revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone. He fastened a silver chain around his neck—checking his reflection.

Downstairs—the wolf was waiting.