Chapter Four Rowan
Rowan
Sitting around listening to Finn tell their species’ boring origin story has, for some reason, caused the tension in the room to rub his wolf the wrong way. He knows there are things Finn is dancing around, whereas Rowan has always preferred a bit more of a direct approach. That he finds Finn’s prevarication provoking might be because Gideon has been his primary alpha-socializing agent since he presented just shy of two years ago.
Sort of an alpha-see-alpha-do thing.
If he’s honest with himself, Rowan spent most of his teen years horny and annoyed, and sometimes he feels like not much has changed. Unpresented alphas are only slightly less horny, slightly less aggressive, and slightly less inclined to want to dominate everything in their path than fully presented ones.
It hadn’t been easy to suppress those urges when his peers were presenting on track and on time, all through his last year of high school. While they’d been hooking up with each other or at least dating, no one had wanted to spend any time with too-tall-too-intense unpresented Rowan Foster.
Instead, he’d spent his time driving his mom crazy with near-constant drumming, channeling all that extra alpha energy into honing his music. He’d had a few close friends who jammed with him or shared tickets to concerts. No one would be surprised to learn that his favorite band was the three-man group Long Road Home. He’d been captivated, not just by their sheer talent across the board, but by the deep bond the alpha lead singer shared with his two beta packmates at such a young age.
Their stage presence was electrifying, and the sheer amount of fantasizing he’d done about the band was the first sign that he was probably very, very gay. What had started as an appreciation for the band as musicians quickly morphed into what Rowan was sure could be called an unhealthy obsession.
He’d tried to convince himself it was all just his dream to become a rockstar drummer, but it never felt like honesty to him, and if you couldn’t tell the truth in your own mind, then to who (whom?) could you? Whatever .
With that revelation in mind, he decided he’d abandon any rockstar dreams if he could just once get backstage and meet the band. Just once. If he failed, he’d give up and take up teaching—or maybe the military.
Back then, Long Road Home had a tradition of playing at a small venue in the heart of Nashville every year to honor their roots. The real hurdle had been sneaking past security to get backstage. So, he’d dressed for subterfuge that night: jeans, a fake “crew” shirt under his leather jacket, and just enough confidence to sell it.
His mom had dropped him off with a suspicious glint in her eye, and as luck would have it, he’d arrived just in time to heft the last amp out of the equipment truck and slide through the door with another crew member. It had been almost too easy. At seventeen, he was broad and strong, and in the end, all he needed was to look like he belonged.
The doors to the dressing rooms had been open but empty, and unsurprisingly, Rowan hadn’t known what to do once he’d gotten there. Then he’d spotted Luca’s iconic lavender-colored guitar in its case on the ratty sofa, but the room had smelled of the wildest forest-pine.
His heart had pounded hard in his chest, a rush of arousal so intense shooting straight to his dick, but it was the soft cough behind him that had him spinning around and his stomach dropping into his toes. Because there he was—Jay Rhodes.
His idol. His fantasy come true—and his fucking mate.
Jay had been just as speechless, his mouth agape, when Leo barreled into him from behind. The three of them had stood there, gobsmacked and completely at a loss. It was fast-talking Luca who set off the next chain of events, doing everything but knocking Jay unconscious to get to Rowan—unaware, at the time, that Rowan was underage.
While Leo wrangled the fussing Luca, Jay had asked him his name and then gently inquired if he’d brought his guardian. Humiliated, Rowan blushed and called his mom so she could turn right around and come back.
Forgetting the subsequent conversation between his charmed mother and the objects of his deepest desires is still at the top of his list. Ugh.
Still, he had lived the ultimate fan dream come true that night—except for the fact that his mom had stood at the bar, chatting up the bartender with a drink he wouldn’t be able to enjoy for four more years.
After that, things had only gotten better when Jay heard him play. More than happy to ditch the drumming backtrack once Rowan turned eighteen and could legally play venues with booze on tap. Unsurprisingly, he’d blended in perfectly—that’s the magic of fated mates, isn’t it?
As the fourth member of their small pack and band, they treated him with respect and understanding, recognizing his youth and inexperience. Rowan had looked forward to the day he presented when he could finally share in all aspects of his mates’ lives.
Even though he remained unpresented, his mom had no qualms about letting Rowan move into the original Rhodes’ pack house because Jay was “honorable”. But Rowan’s nineteenth and twentieth birthdays had come and gone, and it had been increasingly challenging not to feel like something was wrong with him.
All his mates, now including Grayson and Finn, shared with him as much as they could, but he still felt left out. He didn’t blame them, as he knew they loved him and told him so often with chaste kisses and lots of innocent cuddles. They made sure that someone always stayed with him during the others’ ruts, but it still hurt—he wanted to bond with them, too. He wanted to give pleasure and receive it with the people he loved above all others.
As miracles would have it, the morning after he’d turned twenty-one, Rowan had awoken in his bed, feeling simultaneously sick and hot and oh, so joyful. He’d stumbled down into the kitchen to find Leo on his knees for Grayson.
The scent of their arousal and the sight of Grayson’s fangs piercing his lush lower lip had made Rowan come right then. His groan had surprised Leo enough that he had put teeth to Grayson’s cock in surprise.
The burning desire to fuck and dominate had Rowan growling at the other alpha, grabbing Leo, and carrying him to his room.
The rest of his presentation is foggy at best and a blackout at worst. Most of what he remembers is the burning fire in his belly to have his mates to himself.
In the months afterward, Rowan’s wolf became more and more difficult for him to control. While not outright challenging the pack hierarchy, it bordered on disrespect. Rowan hated it. Hated the added tension, the feeling that everyone he loved was walking on eggshells, and worse, that his pack alpha tensed every time he entered a room or started a conversation. It was a marked contrast to the affection Jay had shown him during the previous four years.
During his first official rut, he’d tried to keep Leo sequestered with him in the nest, his wolf fiercely possessive. But Jay had shown him, several times over, that he was no match for their pack alpha. There was an overwhelming sense of relief when his wolf finally figured out he wasn’t in charge and had begrudgingly backed down.
It was only afterward that they discovered he was an enigma. But Rowan—who prided himself on his ambivalence toward genuine drama—couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he was doomed.
The news made sense to his mates, who had sat him down and taught him about how Rowan’s wolf was strong and that his dominant enigma traits were designed to lead a pack. He’d been so confused. If he is fated to be a part of this pack–and he is– then why give him a wolf who pushed so hard and who tried to usurp at every given opportunity?
It was terrifying and exhausting because Rowan-the-person did not want that at all.
Gideon had surmised that Rowan’s place in the pack functioned as a sort of safety valve—if Jay could not lead, the pack would have options. Fucking options. It also served as a reminder to Jay’s wolf that he had to be strong enough for his pack, continuously earning his position.
That was the way of wolves.
However, that did not mean Rowan didn’t have to earn his mates’ respect, too. Gideon then offered to help Rowan train himself and not his wolf to run the show. He’d readily agreed, and since then, with Gideon’s help, Rowan has learned to temper his enigma instincts with self-control, determination, and a new iron will.
He’s still learning.
Right now, though, Rowan knows that all his training means nothing against the surge of instinct ignited by the sounds of his omega moaning and whining under Luca’s hands.
The noise alerts his wolf, who instantly keys into Nix’s agitated—and possibly aroused—state. He smells frustrated and oh-so-delicious. Flushed, with his loose shorts slipping and revealing tantalizing flashes of groin and thigh as he wriggles to evade Luca’s nimble fingers, Nix is irresistible.
Rowan’s wolf takes over the moment Nix jumps up and breaks into a jog to escape Luca’s tickling. He’s only slightly disappointed at how quickly he catches his prey, flipping him onto his back and pinning him down. With his cock pressing into the cradle of his omega’s hips and Nix’s arms held firmly over his head, Rowan buries his face in the scent gland high on his throat, desperate to mark his mate.
When his back hits the corner of the couch, Rowan freezes in surprise. Until now, only Jay has bested his wolf in a contest of strength—and even then, it was a close match (Grayson declines to try). Yet here is this tiny, soft, laughing omega throwing him back with insane strength. It’s arousing as hell. Strength is highly prized in a mate, and watching Nix sprint away again—this time testing Rowan more seriously—has his wolf howling with delight.
The chase is brought up short by the door to the gym, but Nix blows it down with his momentum, hands out, and with apparently little effort. When Rowan spots him, he is down on all fours and ass-up inside the open doorway, looking back at Rowan and wiggling his butt back and forth with enough enthusiasm to tempt even the most devout saint.
Rowan has never been that good.
He’s got no care for the other three alphas, as it’s clear his omega wants only him. Falling to his knees behind his mate and grasping the offending shorts by the legs, he pulls until he’s hampered by the tie at Nix’s waist. He takes the material in hand and rips it until his mate’s tiny, juicy ass is on full display, glistening between his cheeks in the bright lights of the gym. The scent is incendiary, musky, and sweet—sex-in-a-bakery-sweet.
Rowan takes a minute to appreciate how beautiful Nix is, then pushes the t-shirt up and out of the way so he can see the expanse of his back and the two dimples above his ass. He has had fantasies about spreading his come right there, but right now, Rowan needs that shiny fluid on his tongue and down his throat.
Rowan hears Nix whining and tunes in enough to catch the words. “Please, alpha. Hurts. Please.”
He spares a fleeting glance at the other alphas in the room, just in case. Jay is flat on his back on the floor, and Gideon is frantically trying to strip off his boxing gloves. Finn is frozen in the doorway behind them—Rowan knows he’s the least likely to challenge his claim on their omega anyway.
Maybe it’s because Rowan’s fangs are bared, and his vision is red? No matter—all the better to see his omega. With a low, menacing warning, he locks eyes with Finn one last time, but he just shivers, his hand inside his sweats, either staving off an orgasm or working toward one.
Rowan can’t tell and doesn’t care.
Luca has disappeared out the door, leaving the biggest threat to Rowan’s claim still hamstrung by his gloves. Good.
Oh, Gideon is talking, and if Rowan were worried, he’d try to pay attention, but Nix has gone to his shoulders, face turned to the side so he can breathe, and he’s forlorn begging for tears and whines. But what has almost all of Rowan’s attention are the two tiny hands holding his cheeks apart so he can see his glistening hole. It’s soaked—a mess of slick painting his balls and inner thighs. It only takes from one blink to the next to have Rowan’s nose pressed to that winking hole and his eyes rolling back.
He follows it with his tongue, plunging in past his rim, but not before taking a second to bite the firm cheek. He’s not looking to break skin here, just feel the tender flesh between his teeth. Rowan wants to feed on him and slake the thirst he couldn’t shake since the first time he scented that vanilla-sex smell.
“More, Rowan. So good, fuck.” Nix’s deep voice is like a caress on his leaking cock. He can’t deny his mate and goes back to the sweet treat that is his omega’s slick. His mouth is full of vanilla and sugar, and in that minute, he thinks he might come from the taste alone. He just swallows it down, licks his lips, and dives in for more.
His omega has a hand between his legs, and when Rowan pushes his two longest fingers into his omega’s hungry hole up to the last knuckle, carefully pressing against his omega’s prostate, a rush of slicks breaks free. Nix is suddenly coming with Rowan’s name on his lips—into the remnants of his shorts—and onto the floor mats.
Rowan howls in victory—he has been gifted with his mate’s first orgasm, and he is proud.
He certainly doesn’t expect a face full of cold water from the hose they used to clean the gym floors, but that’s what he gets. Luca stands ten feet away holding the offending weapon—aimed at his alpha—and he looks pissed.
Leo is brave enough to come close and—with a hand outstretched—whispers, “Rowan. Let me take Nix and clean him up. You’ve made him feel so good, but he’s asleep now. Will you let me help him?”
They want to take his omega, but the wolf hasn’t marked or bred him yet. So, he growls, pulling his unconscious mate to his chest. “Mine.”
Gideon leans into his sight line and growls back—louder and more menacing. “Down, Rowan.”
The command is familiar, but the taste of his omega’s slick lingers on his tongue, and he doesn’t want to obey, so he shakes it off. “Mine,” he growls again, the word possessive and tinged with an underlying threat.
The urge to charge the lesser alpha surges—but wait. Gideon is his mate. He shakes his head, either denying Gideon’s command or rejecting the very idea that he could hurt his mate just to keep Nix with him. “My omega,” he insists, his voice low and unwavering.
“ Our mate, our omega, you jerk,” Luca growls, and Rowan gets another face full of water, and the scent and taste of the soft body in his arms is washed away. His cock is so hard, he wants to feel that glistening hole wrapped around it, and— fuck— there’s even more water.
“Stop, Luc. Fuck.” He hears his own voice, and for once, it’s not the guttural, fang-filled wolf. The cold-water facial has finally given him a bit of clarity, and he’s immediately horrified. “Leo?”
“Give me your omega, Rowan, and I’ll take care of him. Then we can go to the nest, okay? Who do you want?”
Rowan shakes his head, shifting Nix into his arms bridal-style, but when Leo holds out his arms, making full eye contact, he gently hands him over.
“Sorry.” He can’t verbalize for what, exactly, not yet.
“I know you are, alpha. Let Finnie and Gideon help you, okay?”
Instead, Rowan strides over to Luca and rips the hose out of his hands. “Yes?”
His beta frowns, but then, with a shrug, he nods.“I’m still mad at you, but also, yes. Fuck me, alpha. ”
He picks Luca up and into his arms, hands already under his long t-shirt, fingers settling in the seam of his plush butt.
The wolf doesn’t like to see Nix leave with Leo and not know where they’re going, but is distracted for the moment by his Pack Alpha, unconscious on the floor. “Did I do that?”
Luca laughs. “Nope, that was 100% Gideon.”