Burning Desire

Dakota

“Something wrong with eternity?” Dakota mused, squeezing his partner’s hand and shooting a playful glance over his shoulder as he began leading the way back towards the cabin. Of course, it had been a figure of speech. Eternity to a werewolf meant their entire lifespan, as well as wherever the afterlife took them. Wolves mated for life, and werewolves were no exception. The canine would die long before Zachary did, and Koda was aware of this years prior. He had always pictured their rivalry lasting forever, but the reality was that old age would eventually take him from this world and transfer his soul into the next life. Being a werewolf had its advantages of course; impeccable healing components would allow the dog to live well beyond what your average person could, but he wasn’t immortal. Lost in thought, it wasn’t until the vampire plucked his hand away did Dakota realize something was off. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, the brunette furrowed his brows together in concern and watched as his mate doubled over. “Woah, hey- What’s the matter, you feel sick?” Came the jumbled rush of words from the wolf, his head tilting in curiosity and a hand reaching out to rub at Zachary’s spine. Koda wasn’t even sure if bloodsuckers could actually feel ill, but then again he hadn’t known they could cry or even mate until the last twenty-four hours, so he supposed anything was possible. “I know eternity is kind of daunting, but I promise to not always be a complete pain in the ass.” Dakota murmured, naturally reverting back to his humour and sarcasm when faced with touchy situations like this. He didn’t like people crying at the best of times, but with Zach... Well, he wasn’t used to the guy being so emotional, and worst of all it made his chest constrict so tightly to see the immortal in pain that his ribs felt as though they were going to collapse in on each other and start puncturing important organs. “Besides...” Dakota piped up again, a nostalgic sort of smirk dancing along his lips as he recalled the previous night’s events. “You kissed me first, even after I told you to piss off... Someone has to take responsibility for that, right?” The mutt accused coyly, his hand continuing to rub soothing strokes up and down Zachary’s spine.