Bonds of Fate (Fated in the Stars #2)

Chapter Six Nix

Nix

He’s so warm and so relaxed. Nix thinks he’s never felt this good in his entire life. A gentle heat simmers in his lower belly, and a tingling buzzes at the tips of his fingers and toes. The air is filled with basil and cinnamon—a strange combination but one that smells amazing. Bet it tastes good, too.

“Angel.” The voice is Grayson’s— his Grayson. Nix can feel him now, tethered to something deep inside him, like an anchor pulling him home. “Look at me, please.”

He lolls his head toward the sound and blinks his eyes open. It’s Grayson. He’s so pretty. Really hot.

“Thank you, baby.” Black hair falls into his eyes, and he’s naked. Oh, that’s good, too. Grayson has a really nice dick.

There’s a chuckle. “I’ll vouch for that.” Leo! Nixie loves Leo.

There’s a tattooed hand holding a bottle of water, and it’s trying to get him to drink. But he doesn’t want water; it will wash away the taste in his mouth, and he doesn’t want that. He must have used his tingly hand to push it away because handsome Leo is frowning.

“No.” He pushes it away, and it sloshes, raining down on the bed.

“Nix, you need some water. Try for me.” Again, with the water bottle.

“Nooooooo. Tastes good already.”

“What does, Angel?”

Nix opens his mouth, heart thudding, so Leo can see for himself.

“Fucking hell, Gray. Is that your blood and come?” Leo’s voice is high, nearly squeaking, and he sounds unhappy—startled, maybe.

Nix’s stomach twists. “Nix is bad?” The words are small, almost a whisper, and his chest tightens as he braces for rejection.

“No, baby, not at all. You’re so good. I’m just…uh… surprised, that’s all.” Leo’s cinnamon scent blooms, stronger now, warm and comforting, yet still tinged with something nervous.

Nix’s mouth waters despite himself. The scent isn’t strong enough—not enough to truly taste it. His wolf wants the real thing—he wants Leo’s taste because the cinnamon is Leo, and Leo is the wolf’s.

His body hums with need, and the want is so sharp it almost hurts.

“Whoa, Nix, no, no. You can’t do that right now.”

Nix is already on his hands and knees, drawn irresistibly to the cinnamon warmth radiating from Leo’s dick. The “no” stops him—just enough to slow down—but not enough to make him pull away. Instead, he presses his nose and mouth to Leo’s belly, inhaling deeply, the scent soothing and grounding him.

With a contented sigh, he lies down again so he can rest his head in Leo’s lap, face pressed under his mate’s shirt against the soft, warm skin. His body finally relaxes, tension melting as the connection quiets the insistent hum of need just a little.

His mates. They should know they belong to Nixie, so he tells them.

“Mates. Mine.” He’s quiet now, just enjoying the taste of Grayson in his mouth and the scent of Leo in his nose.

“I think he’s scent-drunk as fuck. Is he out?” The voice high above the cinnamon-scented tummy murmurs.

Nix wants to say he’s awake, but the words don’t come. He feels too good—weightless, as though he’s floating in a place where arousal hums through him, warm and steady but without urgency. It’s the kind of bliss that makes him want to stay right where he is, neither fully awake nor asleep, just existing in this perfect in-between.

“What the fuck just happened? That’s a bond bite, Gray.” Nix wants to ask what that is. Bond bite. Bonnnnnnddddd biiiiiiiiite. It sounds good, though, and his wolf is so pleased that he wants to wiggle with joy.

“I wish I knew. He was lucid, Leo. I swear.” It’s a plea for understanding, and Nix frowns at Gray’s tone.

“I know, love. I watched the whole thing.” Nix feels a hand through his hair, and he rubs his cheek against the semi-hard dick under his cheek. He likes the sound Leo makes when his breath hitches.

“Mmmmm. Leo?” Nix opens his mouth against his mate’s soft belly and sucks.

“Sleep, baby.” A finger in the corner of his mouth breaks the seal he’s created on the bit of flesh he’s been sucking, so he takes the digit in instead—and the suckling almost sends him under.

He brings a sluggish hand up to just under his sternum and rubs the spot where he feels Grayson and Jamie, so happy he’s not alone.

Soon, there will be seven.

**

His mouth tastes like ass. Well, not ass, exactly, but come and…pennies? It all floods back in suddenly. Grayson above him, the scent of fresh basil in his nose and salty-sweet come on his tongue. His cock had been the perfect weight in his mouth—smooth, hard, and bigger than…well, big.

Nix refuses to let thoughts of him taint the sheer pleasure of remembering how it felt to take Grayson down as far as he could. His throat is sore now that he thinks about it—and he likes that.

Ten out of ten. Would recommend.

Wait, there was Rowan, too.

He’d been giggling with Luca about something, and he’d smelled Rowan’s spiced rum scent tinged with that irresistible musk, and his wolf had sensed a challenge—followed by a fierce surge of desire. One moment he’d been perched on the corner of the coffee table, and the next, he’d been flat on his back, held down, with a big, hard dick pressing into his belly, promising pleasure. But his wolf hadn’t wanted it to be too easy.

He’s not prey.

The wolf had wanted to run and to be chased, have his alpha earn the right to fuck him. There’d been the scent of Jamie and Gideon at the end of the hall, sweat, blood, and alpha, and he’d wanted them, too. Wanted them to witness how strong he was, to see how he could evade and make the alpha—Rowan—work to have him. So that they would want him, too, so he could be worthy.

Then Rowan had made him feel so good, his mouth on his hole and tongue in deep, only adding to the hot, wet vanilla scent of his own body and the scents of his mates. It had only taken the feel of a hand on his cock, and he had come on his terms. It made him feel powerful and finally in his own body. Grounded in the sensation of pleasure.

His body, his pleasure. His decision, his choice.

It was the best he’d felt, ever.

Certainly, that was until he’d sunk his teeth into Grayson and tasted his blood on his come-soaked tongue. Then, somehow, something forged itself in his chest, a bond built of fire and stronger than anything, wound tight around his very soul and intertwined with another. They’re different, but both are strong and perfect.

Why is it different for them than for Luca or Rowan? Leo or Gideon? Where is Finn? Aren’t they mates, too?

He needs answers. He’s tired of waiting.

Finn will know what to do. Finn is the smartest. He’s so handsome, too—with broad shoulders and long fingers.

The wolf urges him to find Finn, to fill that space in Nix’s chest where Grayson glows. The need is so sharp that his foot twitches, shifting toward the floor.

Soon. But not yet.

That floaty feeling keeps tugging him back under, muffling his fear and pulling his thoughts into a haze.

The room is silent, and Grayson’s not in bed. It’s still dark outside, and it feels like it’s the middle of the night. There’s a light on in the restroom, and the bed smells mostly like Grayson and himself now. Sex and vanilla and fresh basil. He can detect a bit of cinnamon from earlier if he tries really hard. Maybe he’ll just take a moment to roll onto his belly and smell the scents, then he’ll go find Jamie and Finn and demand some answers.

Any minute now.

Annnny minute now. He makes a purring nose deep in his chest and huffs in great breaths.

“Hey, Angel. You okay there?” There’s a laugh and a corresponding twinge in his chest. Grayson is happy—his mate is happy.

“Yup. Great. Stellar, even.” Nix’s voice is muffled because his nose is still pressed hard into the bed.

“Could you look at me, please? So I can see your pretty eyes?”

Nix doesn’t want to move his nose from the bed. “No.” Then there’s a wrist close to his head, and the basil scent is stronger. He turns so he can get a better sniff straight from the source, grabs the arm in his hand—and then sinks his teeth in.

What. The. Fuck.

He flings Grayson’s arm away and scrambles to the head of the bed, as far from his mate as he can get—his mate, who he just bit.

“Holy shit, Gray. M’sorry.” His words come out slurry, thick with confusion. “Why did I do that? Am I—am I what Gideon warned me about? Am I scent-drunk?”

Grayson licks his wrist, right over the still-bloody bite, and hums. “I think so, and maybe last night, too. Do you remember any of it?”

Nix grabs a pillow from the head of the queen-sized bed and pulls it to his chest; it doesn’t help that pang of uncertainty any, but it gives him something to do with his hands that aren’t holding Grayson down and biting his neck. “All of it. I remember all of it.”

His mate looks concerned, and Nix realizes Grayson is not sure if Nix is okay with it.

“Best fucking night of my life. Did you–oomph.” Nix is being hauled into his mate’s arms and being kissed. Grayson has a hand in his hair, tilting his head back and the other on the bolt of his jaw, holding him still while he nips and sucks at his mouth. Nix lets out a moan that’s muffled between their lips, and the simmering heat from earlier bursts into flames.

It encourages Grayson, whose tongue darts out and presses against his lips, demanding entry. He eagerly parts them to let him in. The world tilts as Grayson pushes him back onto the bed so he can lie with his chest pressed against Nix’s, tongue searching out every corner of his mouth he can.

Nix uses his hands to anchor him to his body and makes a small noise of approval.

Both their mouths are open, and Nix lets their tongues tangle together, matching Grayson’s pattern, smooth and slick. He wants to feel more of his alpha, so he runs his hands down over the smooth expanse of Grayson’s back over his boxer-clad ass. The flesh is firm, and he digs his fingers in to pull him into a slow grind. His hard cock is riding up against Nix’s smaller one in a delicious dance.

He breaks the kiss to nip under Nix’s jaw and behind his ear, whispering, “Nixie, so pretty. Feel so good.” This time, he rolls his hips down hard enough that it makes Nix whimper. He wants more—a few more thrusts, and he could come just like this.

“Make me come, alpha. Make me come.” Grayson picks up a faster rhythm, rocking forward into the cradle of his hips and back into the squeeze of his hands. Nix loves the play of the muscles and slides his hands under the boxers.

He tilts his head back because he wants Grayson to bite him . His wolf is howling for his mate to bite down hard right where everyone can see—but he only nips at the skin with a groan.

It’s not what the wolf wants.

“Bite, Gray. Please.” He opens his eyes just in time to see the way his mate looks when he comes, mouth parted and his breath catching on a silent cry. He doesn’t slow his rocking hip, though—the scent of his come, making Nix’s mouth water at the thought of tasting it again.

He’s debating about sneaking a hand inside the front of his alpha’s boxers for a taste when Grayson slides a hand down between his legs, then up past his balls. He gathers the wetness there, and then it’s on Nix’s cock, slick and smooth, working it up and down the shaft until it’s an easy glide.

It takes two firm pulls and a thumb over the head, and Nix is coming in shuddering jerks, hips bucking. His mate bends to take his cock into his mouth so he can suck the rest of his release, licking and kissing. Nix would let him do that until he could get hard again, past the over-sensitivity and into arousal, but his mate pulls off with a pop.

Grayson rolls onto his back and pulls Nix into his side. His wolf is happy to bury his nose into his alpha’s chest, pressing kisses to his pec and his nipple, pierced through with a stainless steel barbell. He lies there, feeling Grayson’s heartbeat slow under his cheek.

It’s a comfort that seeps into his soul, and in no time, there’s a low rumble in his chest.

He’s not sure how long they lie there, but when he opens his eyes, it’s in the early hours of the morning. His belly itches, and he remembers there is come dried on his belly and shirt.

Was yum but is now, ew.

Nix realizes he’s covered in it, and the sheet Grayson had pulled over them is probably ruined.

When he tries to get up, Grayson growls a bit.

“Alright, grumpy-pants. I’ve got to wash this off, or we’ll be glued together.”

Grayson does not seem upset by the notion, basil scent satisfied and a proud smirk on his obscenely full lips. “So? I like it. You smell like me, and I smell like you—it’s perfect.”

Nix hasn’t seen this side of Grayson yet, and he’s incredibly amused. He’s a bit like a toddler who’s been told it’s time to go home from the park.

“You like me smelling like you, huh? Me too. But I want a bath. Want to join me?”

That gets Grayson vertical and grimacing because his own boxers are cold and sticky. “Not so fun now, is it, big guy?” Nix climbs off the bed and makes for the bathroom, putting a bit of a wiggle in his walk. He loves feeling desirable, and just being like this with his mate is freeing.

After using the toilet, Nix washes his hands and lets Grayson in so they can both brush their teeth. Day-old come is not the flavor of the week, even if you couldn’t have told him that last night.

He takes all of thirty seconds to figure out his ass is wet.

At first, he thinks the slipperiness between his thighs is his own come, but when he runs his finger over it, it’s not tacky to the touch at all; it’s slippery. When he brings it to his nose, it’s the sweetest vanilla, with a musky overtone that makes his mouth water.

“Gray. Don’t panic. But I think there’s something wrong with me.” He holds up his fingers, and they glisten in the low light of the dimmed bathroom fixture.

Grayson’s pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare; he’s gentle, though, when he takes those two fingers and sucks them deep into his mouth with a groan. “Fucking delicious, Nix. Your slick is like ambrosia.”

“My what now? This is coming from my ass, Gray.” Even after Grayson had sucked his fingers clean, they remain slippery…like lube. “Wait a minute. I’m making my own lube now ? ”

This can’t be real.

His knees feel weak. Thinking he’d better sit down before he falls, his slippery ass lands on the edge of the soaker tub. When he tries to sit—he nearly slips off with an indignant squawk. Forgoing the embarrassment of landing in the bone-dry tub, Nix begins to pace the confines of the bathroom. Seven steps one way. Seven steps back.

“Where is Jamie? Finn? I think I need an explanation about what the fuck is going on with my ass. I am done, Grayson. Done. With delays, prevarications, and omissions. Give it to me entirely. I mean it, this time.” That feeling of being out of control is creeping back, and there’s an unpleasant churning in his stomach.

“Angel, take a deep breath and give me a chance to explain. Breathe.” The panic that had been creeping in—black spots at the edge of his vision while his angry scent turns the room into a bakery on fire.

It only ebbs after he takes a few deep breaths, trying to remember what Gideon showed him that afternoon—right before he walks straight into Grayson’s arms.

“That’s good. So good. Jay is with Rowan and the others. You said you remembered last night. That chase you gave Ro jump-started his alpha rut. It’s not going very smoothly.”

“What’s a rut, and why isn’t it going smoothly? Is it bad because of me? Did I hurt him?” Horrified, he searches his memory for something he might have done to hurt his Rowan. “Did I bite him, too? Oh my god, I bit you. Let me see.” Falling to his knees, he yanks Grayson’s come-soaked black SAXX boxers down over his semi-hard dick.

“Ow, ow. Gently—they’re stuck.” Gray groans when the dried come acts like glue in his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

There, in the crease where Grayson’s groin meets his thigh, besides three other similar marks, is the imprint of Nix’s teeth. It’s red and inflamed, and when he runs his fingers over it and looks up at Grayson to be sure it no longer hurts, his alpha’s eyes are red, and his fangs are down. He looks fierce and beautiful. Deadly.

“Gray. Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”

His alpha flinches, and his scent is suddenly reminiscent of rotten greenery. “My omega is sorry ? You didn’t want to bond with me?” Sadness so deep that it’s almost despair resonates in his voice.

“Bond with you? You wanted me to bite you? It’s a bond?” Well, that explains that presence in his chest and the other bites he’d seen on the others.

But he can sense Jamie, too. Does that mean he bit Jamie? When and where was that? Was that what Riordan was checking yesterday on Jamie’s shoulder? These are just more questions Jamie Rhodes better have answers for.

“I didn’t really know what I was doing, Gray, but I am not sorry we’re bonded—just that it looks like I hurt you. Does it feel okay?”

Grayson picks Nix up and hugs him so tightly in relief that it’s palpable. “I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you for doing it.”

“What about me? Shouldn’t you bi–” Grayson’s hand is over his mouth, stopping his request for a similar bite.

“You can’t say that to me right now, Angel. My wolf wants to bite you so badly, but I can’t. Our pack has a hierarchy, and I respect Jay too much to ignore it. It’d be a challenge I couldn’t take back, and I love our family just the way it is now that you’re here.”

“So Jamie needs to bite me first, then it’s okay? Even though I’ve bitten you and him already?”

“Exactly—wait. What did you say?”

“I can feel you both in here.” He taps his chest with his fist.

“When did you bite Jay?”

“I don’t know, but he’s been here since the hospital. What are you doing?” Gray grabs his phone off the bathroom vanity, and he must be texting Jay—and it looks like Nix might get answers to his questions sooner rather than later.

Fucking finally.

“Is it okay to interrupt him? You never said what a rut is or why I’m making my own lube, or if there’s anything else I should know about?”

If his mate’s face is anything to go by, there sure as hell is.