Rising Sun Valley the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love

He had to. He had to. Anger bubbled in his chest for a few moments until his next words quickly doused the fire. Alarian still loved him—the beast could deal with anything else as long as his mate's love still existed. Midar almost missed the rest of what he said.

He had been miserable, Midar stood in his way, he had been miserable, Midar was controlling. He studied the other man with what almost seemed like confusion. He had been miserable? Had he been miserable the entire time? Had he just been overpowered into keeping quiet about it? Midar was incapable of love in the traditional sense, but he did love Alarian in his own way, and the last thing he wanted to hear was that he had been miserable when they were together. 

The distance between them suddenly disappeared. It seemed they were both bound together by some outside force. Even miserable, Aliarian had still felt drawn to him. He wanted things to change, though, and the beast was wiling to hear him out. Change was difficult for him, but if it meant keeping his mate, then he would try. What needs to change, he finally said, resisting the urge to run his nose through the fur of the other man's neck; it had been so long since he had been able to do that.