Miguel returned to The Crimson Goat a few days later. Even after having time to relax and adjust to his leg's constant aching, simply walking into the kitchen was an ordeal that left him using Alejandro for support.

Instead of taking him to his usual station, Alejandro guided Miguel to the prey room, where a chair covered in pillows waited for him. Someone had dragged over one of the massive bags of wood shavings they used for the mice so Miguel could put his leg up, and the fruity scent of Yolanda's jello salad emanated from the room's dedicated refrigerator.

Stars, what had he done to deserve all this? With everything he needed in this one little room, he'd barely have to get up.

He'd just sit there tending to the prey. Alone.

"I know you'd rather be cooking, but we wanted to make sure you don't hurt yourself," Alejandro said gently.

Of course he'd rather be beside Alejandro all evening, enjoying the warmth of his smile alongside that of the stove. But he'd already made him worry far too much. If secluding himself would keep his partner from constantly thinking he'd collapse, then he'd gladly bear it.

"Not a bad idea," Miguel said, easing himself into the chair with a wince. Dr. Wilkins had told him he'd gotten off lucky: he'd only needed a dozen stitches, and if it weren't for his preexisting injury he probably wouldn't have needed a brace. Still, he felt weak and tired and simply not ready for a whole shift standing on his feet.

"You know where you can find me," Alejandro said. For once, he was the one giving a too-tight hug that took Miguel's breath away. "Take good care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." Miguel held him close, drinking in his lavender scent while he still could. He'd become so accustomed to Alejandro's warm, gentle presence that spending even an hour away from him seemed as horrible as losing the sun to a sea of storm clouds.

"I mean it," Alejandro said. "If this is too much—"

"I'll be fine, Moonbeam." Miguel forced his lips into a smile. "Maybe you could..." The words died in his throat. This was so stupid. Why couldn't he just let him work?

"Yes?" Alejandro pulled back, his warm brown eyes meeting Miguel's amber ones. Stars, why couldn't they stay like this forever? Just the two of them getting lost in each other, or maybe finding themselves. It was all the same to Miguel.

Which was why he couldn't let himself burden Alejandro.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it matters to you." Alejandro brought his hand up to caress Miguel's cheek.

Miguel leaned into his touch. He worried him whether he told him anything or not. Best to let it out.

"Maybe you could check on me a few times? I don't want to bother you. I just..." Miguel struggled to swallow the knot forming in his throat, but his muscles tightened as if he was fighting against the Carolina Reaper's heat again. "I'm going to miss you."

"Making you happy will never bother me." One kiss was all it took for Alejandro to ease the knot in Miguel's throat, but he didn't stop there. His lips trailed from Miguel's cheek down his neck, each touch sending warmth blooming across his scales. "Hopefully this will tide you over for a while," he murmured.

"Yes." Miguel's voice trembled from the force of his thrumming.

In times like this, Miguel almost forgot he was packless. With Alejandro, there was no longer a gaping void where Saguaro Pack used to be. There was only happiness. Wholeness.

Maybe Isabella was right. Maybe they could form a pack together.

But what good would that do Alejandro? Packs hunted together, protected each other, and took care of each other. Miguel couldn't hunt and had been taking horrible care of himself, let alone Alejandro.

Being a pack wasn't just a declaration of closeness, it was a promise. One Miguel had already failed to keep.

"Are you okay?" Alejandro's breath brushed against his scales.

"You'd better head into the kitchen," Miguel said quietly. "They need you in there, too."

"I guess so." Alejandro sighed, but didn't move. His eyes lingered on Miguel's, his gaze soft and questioning.

Miguel didn't say anything. Why would he? All he'd manage to do was get Alejandro fussing over him again.

"You know where to find me." Alejandro's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise."

With that, Alejandro left Miguel alone with nothing but his thoughts and the night's first batch of complimentary mice to keep him occupied.

At least until Ralph came in.

Darkness rimmed his eyes as he leaned against the wall without a hint of his usual smirk. "Can we talk?"

"Is everything okay?" Miguel asked. He certainly wasn't, but that wouldn't stop him from making sure his coworkers were alright. They hadn't worried Alejandro sick.

"I'm fine, but you look like shit." Ralph waved toward Miguel's leg. "An old packmate?"

"One of the territory guards didn't take kindly to me trying to talk to Isabella." He stretched out his leg, raising and lowering it like Dr. Wilkins had told him to. If he was going to be chatting for a while, he might as well get some of his stretches in. "At least Isabella is finally warming up to humans."

Ralph snorted. "Nothing like watching one smack somebody with a baseball bat, I guess."

Silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the mice's squeaking. With Ralph's mouth set in a hard line as he stared directly at him, Miguel felt as if he too would soon become prey.

"He was worried sick about you," Ralph said at last. "We all were."

"I know." Miguel bowed his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare everyone like that."

"No, you don't know. Who do you think he kept texting while you were passed out?" The tiger tattoo on Ralph's arm was twitching, eager to pounce and sink its teeth into Miguel. "Had to beg him to leave you long enough to eat something, try and sleep. Don't think he ate anything that wasn't from a vending machine until his mom practically forced him to."

Guilt twisted in Miguel's gut as his eyes burned with tears. "You never would have made him that upset."

"I absolutely would have, and that's the problem. He deserves better than someone who makes him worry all the damn time. Don't—" Ralph clenched his fists, but couldn't stop a few tears from wetting his cheeks. "Don't break his heart. Please. He loves you, and I don't think he'd ever forgive himself if anything happened to you."

"I won't." Miguel forced himself to meet Ralph's gaze, puffing out his chest the same way Isabella always did whenever she faced a challenger. "I promise."

"Good." Ralph wiped the moisture from his face. "Damn AC must be acting up again. Got sweat in my eyes."

"Feels fine to me." If anything, Miguel felt a bit cold. He hugged his apron closer to himself and debated whether now would be a good time to ask for a cup of duck blood soup.

"I mean don't tell anybody I cried over this shit. Come on, I just told you I'm trying not to make Alejandro worry."

Miguel ducked his head sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Damn right you are." Ralph leaned down and brought his face so close to Miguel's that he could see a half-healed shaving cut on his jaw. "And if you ever make Alejandro cry like that again, I will make what your ex-packmate did to you look like hatchling's play. Understand?"

Miguel shrank into his seat, instinctively turning his head to bare his throat under Ralph's glare. "Yes."

"Good." Ralph gathered cages full of mice into his arms, ready to set out the evening's first round of them.

"Can I ask you something?"

Ralph glanced over his shoulder.

"Did you and Alejandro... I mean, what was..." Dryness filled Miguel's mouth, only this time it wasn't from the venom suppressant.

"Out with it. We don't have all evening."

"Why aren't you and Alejandro together anymore? I mean, he and his family talk about you all the time, and you obviously still care about him." And wouldn't hurt him as badly as Miguel had, no matter what he said to try to make him feel better.

"You don't have to worry about me trying to take him from you if that's why you're asking." The scowl fell from Ralph's face, replaced by something that wasn't quite a smile but wasn't a frown either. "It's not my place to say why."

"But—"

Ralph held up a hand to silence him. "It's Alejandro's business more than mine. Stars know that asshole brother of his has given him enough shit over it already. Can't say I blame him for not wanting to talk about it considering..." Ralph let out a long sigh. "He'll tell you when he's ready."