Bonds of Fate (Fated in the Stars #2)

Chapter Nine Nix

Nix

It had been a long ass week; well, at least the parts he’d been awake for had been.

Waking up from a coma, hearing you nearly died, and are a new species entirely while finding your long-lost true love, and six other people who complete you really is just a short list of amazing but truly exhausting things.

Perfect things.

Except Nix isn’t used to luck going his way.

Near-death coma aside, good things hadn’t been his usual life experiences. His brain has managed to keep up so far, but Nix thinks he sees a shutdown point incoming. Grayson has not wanted to talk about the all-natural, in-home, vanilla lubricant coming out of his behind. He’d convinced Nix that all would be well when Jamie could break away from Rowan’s rut and that the others can explain it better.

Whatever a rut is. Nix hopes Rowan is okay, and he feels a twinge of desire in his belly at the thought of him.

It’s such a strange feeling—to think about desire, to feel pleasure—without fear clawing at the edges. Without pain. Without despair. Five years since he’s let himself want anything like this. Five years since his body has felt like his own.

Hayes had tried to take that from him to make sure he never felt anything good again, but he failed. Nix is still here. Still breathing, still standing, still fighting. And now, for the first time, he wants— really wants.

Not because he has to. Not because it’s expected. But because it’s his choice.

His wolf is telling him it’s safe. That it’s okay to reach for this, to take this, to claim the pieces of himself he thought were lost. To let himself be whole again.

And maybe, just maybe, to be happy.

After they’d come together, Grayson had run them both a bath. It’s so soothing; Nix feels like he needs a few hours where he doesn’t have to think for himself, just so he can finally let the good stuff sink in.

The water is hot, and the scent of expensive green tea bath salts lingers in the steamy air. It’s decadent, and he revels in the luxury of silence, feeling safe in his mate’s company.

Nix can’t get the blend of Grayson’s basil scent and the green tea out of his nose—or out of his head. He leans back against Grayson’s chest, nestled between his thighs, in the massive white freestanding tub, big enough for both of them with room to spare.

Grayson presses his nose to the side of Nix’s neck and breathes him in, dragging slow, deliberate inhales through his hair—then down again, over and over. It’s difficult to limit himself to running his hands up and down his mate’s thighs while trying not to wiggle too much against the impressive erection digging into his back, their slippery skin heightening the sensation.

Nix wants to go up on his knees and slide back down on it so badly . So, to distract himself, he asks Grayson instead, “Tell me something about you, Gray. I think I should know more about you than just how you taste, ya?”

He’s causing trouble with his words, but teasing is freeing , and he loves how Grayson groans. It might be his new favorite thing.

“Angel, you can’t say that shit. I’m holding the wolf off, but…” Large hands squeeze his hips, and Nix wants them on his belly and his cock.

“But, what? I make my own damn lube. What’s stopping you from just lifting me up and mrumf–” There’s a hand over his mouth stopping his words, and he can’t help but laugh.

“No. I told you: if I fuck you, I will bite you, and that’s not how things go around here. I want to . Fuck, I really, really want to, but we can wait, right? Soon.” He sounds a bit desperate, so Nix takes mercy on his lover.

“Okay, big guy, I won’t tease.” He brings one of those large hands to his mouth to kiss his palm.

“Thank you–”

“Much.”

He gets a splash to his face for his trouble, and he squeals.

“You’re as much trouble as the chaos minions.”

“Chaos minions?”

“We call Luca and Rowan the chaos minions. If there’s trouble to be had, it starts there. They’re already teaching you their ways.”

Nix feels the warmth of love in his belly at being part of something so quintessentially family.

“Maybe I’ll teach them some new things. Nooooo! No tickling! What is with all the tickling?”

“We just like to hear you squawk. It’s an old predator/prey instinct. Alphas love to chase, and if you’re making noise, it makes it more fun.”

“More fun for whom? Do you think that’s why I like to be chased? Because I’m an omega? Do other omegas like to be chased?” The ins and outs of Were culture are a mystery to him, and he wishes he could just download all the answers directly to his brain.

“I don’t know. There aren’t any.”

Gray is staring down at him when Nix turns his head, watching his expression carefully, waiting for the words to sink in.

“What do you mean there aren’t any? Like, there aren’t any in our pack? Or at all?” Nix feels his anxiety ratchet up, even though he already knows the answer. “No teasing, Grayson. I mean it. That’s not very nice.”

“Angel, I wish I were.” He sighs and pulls the stopper to empty the tub. “Come on. Let’s dry off, and then we can talk in there. Jay should be here any minute.”

“What do you mean? I can’t be the only omega in the world. Finn said in that story yesterday that the Goddess made alphas, betas, and omegas—as in, plural. ”

Grayson climbs out and helps Nix over the side of the tub into a warm, fluffy white towel. He uses another to rub Nix’s damp hair, and Nix’s brain can barely hold on to his hard questions; it feels so good. “I don’t know. We don’t know. Dr. Spencer, your endocrinologist, has never met anyone like you, and she’s from a big university in Toronto.”

Nix can’t fathom that he’d be the only one. Did they go extinct? The story talked about balance and how the shift in the Were population is occurring already. Maybe there are more, but his pack doesn’t know. “Maybe there’s more on the internet?”

Sleep pants in hand, Gray shrugs. “I think Finn is making some careful inquiries, but we don’t want to announce your omega status to the world when we don’t know what that means. We just need to see what he can turn up. I know Jay and Gideon have a plan. Have I made this worse?”

“Not worse, Gray. It’s a lot, but I’m not worried because I’m with you and Jamie and Gideon and the others.” Nix wants to believe that if he’s with his mates, nothing bad can happen.

If he keeps telling himself that, maybe it will be true. He’ll just need to be sure Dawson never finds out about any of it because Nix is sure that if he ever finds out about the Were community, there will be nothing stopping him from broadcasting it to the world to hurt everyone Nix holds dear.

“Should we bleach your roots for you sometime?” Grayson asks, running a hand through the wet strands and tucking them behind Nix’s ears.

Nix shakes his head vehemently. “No, thank you.” That is the last thing Nix wants done to his hair.

Grayson meets his eyes in the mirror. “Of course. You don’t like the blond anymore?”

“I never really did. He liked it. Said it made me at least a bit more attractive and that blonds have more fun. Gray, they do not have more fun. I can vouch for that. I’d just like to be me again. Can we do that instead?”

Grayson is frozen, fists clenched at his sides. He smells like a garden on fire.

He’s angry—but Nix knows it’s not directed at him. He can feel it, deep in his chest, an undeniable certainty and it’s the craziest thing.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, Nix. It’s not okay. Fuck, I want to rip that fucking wolf’s head off. Maybe take his heart out first, I wonder if that hurts more. I’ll ask Finn later.” Grayson absentmindedly puts Nix’s arms into a fluffy white robe. He ties the belt tightly and rubs a finger over the Grayson embossed over his heart.

Nix gasps, heartbeat echoing in his ears. “What did you say?”

“The heart or head thing? Sorry, I’m not usually prone to violence, but–”

“No. That Dawson is a wolf. Are you saying he’s Were? This whole time?”

His voice is thick with despair. He knows it sounds like a wail, but he can’t help it—as the past five years of his painful existence flash before his eyes, a grotesque mockery of the life he’s lived with his mates over the last twenty-four hours.

The realization claws at him, sinking its teeth into his gut. If he lets himself think about it, he can see it now—the same instincts, the same behaviors, but where his mates had shown those things with love, Dawson had twisted them into something else. Something cruel.

“Fuck. Nix. I shouldn’t have said that. It doesn’t matter, right? Human or Were, he’s still a psychopathic piece of shit. The police are taking care of it. Now that you’re Were, he’ll be tried like one, too. Penalties are more dire.”

Nix knows he should be listening—it’s stuff he’ll want to know about things that affect him, but he can’t let this go. Then it hits him. The biggest implication of all.

“Dawson is Were. Jamie is Were. When he left me…er… Florida, he did that internship with Ripley Records, but—”

The memory of how he’d been told Jamie hadn’t worked there and how, on that fateful day, he’d met Dawson Hayes on the front steps, and how it had been the beginning of the end flashes through his mind because Dawson Hayes works for Ripley Records. “Does Jamie know Dawson from when he worked there?”

There’s confusion on Grayson’s face. Sweet Grayson hasn’t made the connection.

But Jamie has. “Nix.” He’s standing shirtless in the doorway to Grayson’s space, a look of shame and sadness marring his handsome face.

“Jamie, did Dawson Hayes work with you? Does he? Has he known you all this time?”

There’s no doubt in Nix’s mind that Jamie has been dreading this question. He’s got an answer already prepared. “Long Road Home is still with Ripley. I don’t know him, exactly. We had a run-in at Ripley early on during the music show and internship days, and Luca reminded me Hayes has never liked me because of it. Leo said he even worked on one campaign for us earlier this year, too.”

“Oh god. Listen to me, Jamie. He knew I knew you. I met him the last time I went to Ripley Records looking for you.” His voice feels like it’s coming from far, far away.

Dawson kept Jamie from him. Tortured him, and he knew Jamie was right there. He’d been to Ripley Records’ lobby a few times in the first few months he’d been in Nashville–before they were dating–and it’s sheer hubris that Dawson would think they’d never run into him.

He’d been so close—how Dawson must have laughed.

“What are you saying?” Grayson asks, pacing the small space, and Jamie is braced in the door frame, eyes blazing. “That Hayes knew you were looking for us—Jay? That he hid you on purpose? ”

“I can’t. Oh god. Jamie.” His stomach churns in sheer horror. He makes it to the toilet this time, and he loses the water and tiny pretzels Grayson had fed him earlier in the tub. “Oh god. Oh god.”

There is a large hand rubbing his back and another pushing his hair back out of the way. He plops down on his butt, and Grayson is there to catch him. Jamie takes his feet into his lap and warms them with his hands while Grayson wipes his mouth and kisses his cheek.

“I went to Ripley Records when I got to Nashville for school, you remember how that was the plan?”

Jamie nods, sadness etched in every feature. “I do.” There’s a squeeze to his foot.

“I went, and I asked for you, but the receptionist said there was no Jamie Rhodes there and that if I didn’t leave, they’d have me removed. I tried so many times, but it was always the same. I was a student, you know, and I wondered if they turned their noses up because I was poor-looking?”

He had been poor, living on a meager stipend his scholarship had provided and ramen for his single daily meal. His schedule hadn’t allowed for a part-time job, and with studying, every extra minute had been spent sleeping—and there hadn’t been many.

“No, baby. You were human. Ripley Records is a Were company. They’d have wanted to discourage you from entering.”

“Oh. I memorized your parents’ phone number, and at first, she never answered. But then she finally did. Why wouldn’t your Mom have told me when I called her? I begged, Jamie. I was so lonely; I needed you.”

He had been heartbroken, barely holding on to the dream he had cherished for four long years—the dream of going to Nashville so they could live the life they had always talked about.

“You called my mother?”

Nix never wants to see this look on his love’s face ever again.

It’s the epitome of grief, remembered pain, and something else that has him gripping his feet harder, his jaw clenched.

“She didn’t tell you I called? I asked her to, and she said she would.”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t.” Jamie’s voice is deadly quiet. Nix remembers her curtness on the phone, demanding Nix leave her son alone. Said she would tell Jamie, but if he didn’t call Nix back, he should move on because her son had.

“But why? She said you’d moved on, but I didn’t think that meant from me. I was so sad, and they knew you loved– love me –wouldn’t she want you to be happy?” Nix is confused. Parents are supposed to love their kids—good people are supposed to do good things.

Jamie looks over his shoulder at Grayson, and they share a look of anger and of something else.

“What? What is it? Please tell me.”

“My parents told me you died with your family in the car accident, and I believed them.” Jamie’s expression flickers with shame and anger, emotions Nix wishes he could erase from the face of his first love. “I don’t understand. What really happened? How did you end up in Nashville all alone?”

Nix swallows around, a lump in his throat before he can answer. “I was so sick when you left. A broken heart, my mom said, but they had planned to go to the beach, and Ivy was so excited, so I told them to go without me. I should have been with them that day,” Nix whispers.

“But…they didn’t c–come home, and I just shut down for a while after that. By the time I came back to myself, my grandmother had canceled my phone, and…she…sold everything, I think. Brought me to Jacksonville to live with her, but as soon as I could, I came here looking for you.”

The day Hayes had found Nix sitting on the front steps of the Ripley Records building after once again being turned away flashes through his mind. He’d been so close—and Hayes had known it.

“You were right there, and what? Because of them, I thought you were dead. I mourned you—we all did. I could have been searching for you this whole time.” Jamie’s voice cracks, raw with disbelief and fury. “And Hayes—he knew you were looking for me? He kept you from us for five years—in that hell?”

His alpha is beyond furious, his scent thick with the heat of a forest fire, burning wild and untamed.

Jamie drops Nix’s feet and bolts from the room.

He and Grayson are barely seconds behind, but he’s gone over the balcony to the living space two floors below. By the time Nix gets to the gym for the second time in twenty-four hours, the broken door is still on the floor, and Jamie has torn into the heavy bag with fearsome claws out—snarls of rage echoing in the large space.

Feeling his heart break for his love—and for himself—Nix can only watch.

The Rhodes’s betrayal of their only child is vile, and it’s only made worse by Hayes’s evil deeds. The vast creativity of those deeds is something Nix has had to lock down tightly in that box in his mind. He unequivocally cannot spare a single thought for the particular details—not now, and maybe not ever.

“What should we do, Gray? He’s hurting, and I—I can’t stand to see him like this.” The ache in his chest flares, sharp and relentless, and he instinctively presses a hand to it.

Grayson just hugs him from behind and turns his nose into his neck, cheeks damp with his tears. His normally sweet basil scent is burnt around the edges as they watch their mate tear his grief from the heavy bag. “I’m sorry for both of you, Angel. So sorry.”

According to the clock on the wall, it takes Jamie less than ten minutes to reduce the heavy bag to nothing but sawdust and shredded leather, its chain swaying uselessly from the ceiling.

Still, his rage crackles in the air, a storm unchecked.

With bloodied hands dusted in sawdust, he braces against the wreckage, his heaving breaths broken by rage-filled roars.

“Jamie. It’s done. Come back to me.”

Red eyes locked onto his, burning with fury and pain. Jamie shakes his head, voice ragged.

“My parents. I fucking hate them, Nix. It’s burning in my chest, and I can’t get it out.”

He digs his claws into his skin—desperate to tear the pain away, to make it stop.

Before he can sink too deep, Nix grips his hand, steady and unyielding.

“No. They’re not worth that. I’m here now. I’m never leaving you, and you’re never leaving me. We won anyway.”

His wolf howls, mourning all the lost time, all the pain—but Nix refuses to let them steal a single second more.

His beloved mate stares unblinking at him, but the claws retreat, and he’s pulled into Jamie’s heaving chest. For just a moment, Nix lets himself feel the fervent longing for this comfort that he’d felt nine years ago, five years ago, ten minutes ago.

It feeds the bone-deep desire to connect to Jamie in every and all ways.

Leaning back, Nix wipes a few bits of sawdust off his lips with his thumb, and he goes up on his toes for a soft kiss. He thinks he’ll need at least an entire afternoon in the sun, making out with Jamie, to appreciate all the ways he can kiss, and it still won’t be enough.

“Love you, Jamie.”

“Love you too, baby.” Jamie holds a hurt hand out to their other silent mate, who comes close enough to kiss Jamie’s cheek and run a hand through sweaty hair.

After a few moments, Grayson speaks up. “Jaybird, let’s clean you up. Jump into the shower for a second, rinse off, and I’ll grab you something to wear. Then we can get those hands cleaned up.”

Nix is grateful to Grayson for his calm reassurances—an anchor after the storm of emotions.

Jamie nods with a shaky breath and makes for the small shower room in the corner of the gym to strip off his sweats.

Nix holds his breath to marvel at the man that is Jamie Rhodes. He is stunning: broad shoulders, that stunning bird tattoo, eight-pack, and an ass that they write sonnets about; well, maybe songs, at least. Maybe Luca would help.

“You are even more beautiful than the boy I knew. Did I ever tell you that I saw you naked once at the beach house that first week?” Nix leans against the wall so he can see his showering mate and still watch for Grayson’s return. He rubs his chest where he can feel them; different, but the same.

When the water is steaming, Jamie rinses off the sawdust, and the still freely flowing blood on his hands turns the water pink as it swirls down the drain. “Really? No. When was that?” His breathing is calmer, but Nix can see the tremor in his muscles.

“Funny story. Ha.” Nix wonders why he chose this embarrassing story, but they were happier times, and he’ll not let their villains take that from them, too. “You’d been surfing with Ivy in the beginning. Remember? I had gone up to your room to see if I could just lie on your bed.” Blush blooming hot in his face, he’s committed to making his love smile, so he can’t stop now.

He hands his mate a towel from the rack outside the shower door, and when it’s wrapped around his waist—a pity—he continues. “I liked the way you smelled. You told me yesterday I smelled like vanilla back then; well, I remembered when I was in the bath earlier that you used to smell faintly of building supplies.”

“Smelled like what? ” There’s a chuckle from the door, and Grayson hands their alpha a pair of sleep pants, then leans on the door frame with his arms crossed, smile firmly in place.

“What did I know of trees or scents? I wasn’t a Were, and kids my age smelled like body odor, not forests. I remembered that we used to have a class in school where we could learn woodworking, baking, you know, other life skills. Have you ever taken anything like that?”

Jamie nods and smiles at the memory. “Burned my fair share of cookies in those days.”

“You mean like now?” Grayson gets a faux kick in his direction.

“Well, we’d made little tiny shelves out of wood before the break, and I’d love going to that class because of the smell of the wood.” Both alphas laugh. “I was in your room when you got back, and I heard you coming, so I hid in the closet. I think that was the minute I recognized how physically attracted I was to you.”

Jamie’s hair is dripping down his shoulders, and he picks him up so they’re chest-to-chest, bloody hands on his ass, and he walks them down the hall and into the kitchen, content just to hold him. Legs around his waist, Nix tries not to think too hard about how his cock is pressed up against that eight-pack while Grayson hunts for the first aid kit.

“I wish I’d known. Not that I would have done anything about it back then—you were still too young, but at least I would have known I wasn’t alone in it.”

“What are we looking for in my hallowed space, Grayson Pearce? Also, is that blood on my kitten’s ass?” Gideon stands just inside the kitchen door, waiting for an answer—naked, his gorgeous arms crossed, and smelling like an orgy in a candle store.

Nix wiggles to be put down so he can get close enough to follow that scent to its source.

“Mmm, Gideon, why do you smell that good? What is that? ” Nix needs to know where that delicious scent is coming from, and he presses his nose to Gideon’s chest, rubbing it up and over his pec. It’s rain and spice, but also chocolate and fruity. “Yum.”

It’s sex—pure and unadulterated. Just the thought of how Gideon came to smell like his absent mates brings that floaty feeling lurking at the edges, urging him to sink beneath the welcome fog—a fog that shields him from the hard memories the last hour has dragged to the surface.

He grasps Gideon’s hips in his hands, holding him firmly so he can run his tongue over the places where those delicious scents are strongest.

“Kitten, I have to shower and take this food to Luca. You don’t want Luca to be hungry, right?”

Gideon is always right. He doesn’t want Luca to be hungry—because that hurts. His baby needs food. Maybe Nix should take him some, too, just to be sure he gets enough. Maybe Luca knows why Gideon smells better than ever—after all, Gideon is mostly Luca’s.

Before he fully thinks it through, he snatches the box of protein bars off the counter, grabs Gideon’s wrist, and starts towing him along. He isn’t entirely sure where he’s going—he’ll just follow his nose.

There’s a bark of laughter as Gideon pulls them to a stop. “Kitten. I’m going to take this to Luca, but Jay needs you to wash his hands and put My Little Pony Band-Aids on the worst of the cuts. He likes them better than the plain ones. I’ll come right back—can you be good?”

Nix can be good, but debates whether he wants to.

“Grayson, can you open the sliding doors a crack? I think our Nix needs some fresh air. I’ll be right back.” He kisses Nix’s cheek and slips away. Nix feels melancholy as the scents and any hope of seeing his Luca disappear with him. He wants to be good, but he wants Luca, too.

He lets out a soft whine, and Jamie’s hands are on him in an instant, steady and sure. Strong arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close until he’s pressed against Jamie’s solid chest, warmth seeping into his skin as he shivers. The cold, early morning air creeps across the floor, but Jamie holds him firm.

His smooth chest smells like wood. Pine, Nix realizes now. It suits him—Jamie smells like something meant to build things. Something strong. Something lasting.

“I love the way you smell, and this tattoo is so hot. What is it?”

The bird covers most of the top of Jamie’s chest, with the wings up and over his broad shoulders and the fiery body down the center over his sternum. It’s burning vibrantly in shades of bright red, orange, and yellow. It’s not his only one, as several cover his arms and a pretty rose bower covers his shoulders on his back, but this one is magnificent—glowing under the kitchen lights.

Jamie smiles gently and runs a finger down Nix’s nose, pulling his lower lip down before answering. “It’s a phoenix. I’ve had it for about ten years.”

A phoenix tattoo he’s had since he lost Nix. “You got it for me ?”

“I wanted you with me, where I could see you every day over— in— my heart.”

“Seriously? Jamie…” Nix does not know what to say, so he just puts his lips on Jamie’s with a sigh. When he finally breaks away, he runs his hands over the image of the beautiful bird and his shoulders, fingers feeling a rough patch of skin. “Hey, is this where I bit you?”

Jamie shivers, his body betraying him, and Nix suddenly has both alphas’ full attention.

“Gray told me this is a claiming bite.”

Jamie looks away, his jaw tight, but he nods. His scent shifts—sharp with fear.

“I told Nix that it means we belong to him.” Grayson puts the first aid box on the counter and watches them intently.

“Is that okay with you? That I’m yours?” The uncertainty in Jamie’s voice causes Nix’s heart to twinge.

“Of course it is. Am I yours, too?” They’re both nodding like bobble-heads—exactly like the ones he’d seen on the dashboard of a taxi he rode in once. “I asked Gray to bite me, but he says you have to do it first. I’m not sure I understand why, but if it means I can belong to you—to all of you, then let’s do it.”

Jamie is almost panting at the words, and Nix can feel the hardness in Jamie’s borrowed pants pressed up between his thighs. It fits between the front edges of Gray’s robe and presses up against his own. It turns the simmering in his belly into a low burn. He smells his own musky vanilla scent and feels that slippery feeling return between his cheeks.

“Gray, I’m making lube again. What the fuck.” He knows they were all over the place yesterday, last night, and this morning, with revelations and discoveries, and getting distracted seems to be a sure-fire way to cock block himself, but this seems important and, well…slippery.

Jamie’s head pops up, surprise on his face, looking from Grayson to Nix and back again. “He’s what now? I knew I should have read those damn books.”

“It’s so hot, it tastes like dessert—good enough to eat.” Grayson licks his lips, and it sends a shiver down Nix’s spine.

“It’s coming from his…” Jamie moves a hand down like he might feel it through the fabric of the robe.

Yes, please, sir. May I have more?

Putting two hands on Jamie’s cheeks, he holds him still so he can have his full attention with no added distractions. “Yes, yes, my ass is dessert. But why ?”

“Is it uh…all the time? Or just when you smell like sex in a bakery?” The pressure on his cheeks makes it sound like thexth in a bwakerwee.

Nix blushes. Sex in a bakery? Who thinks of these things? If he had to guess, it’d be Rowan.

“Maybe we can help with that.” Gideon is back with Finn, both freshly showered—Finn in a tight white T-shirt and those sexy eyeglasses, and Gideon in a tank top with the Long Road Home logo, his arms on full display . They look good enough to eat.

He leans into Jamie and whispers in his ear, “Nice job on the band merch.”

There’s a chuckle. “Right?”

Nix slips away from Jamie’s hold, and Finn’s arms are open and waiting. “Hi, Finnie. I missed you. Kiss?”

His lips are soft but not tentative. Nix would have thought he was a gentle kisser, but this was not that. His hands are holding Nix’s head immobile, fingers in his hair, and he feels teeth on his lips. There’s a sting, and then his tongue is soothing over the little bites. When he opens his mouth on a moan, Finn’s tongue is there, leaving no part of his mouth unexplored; there’s a tickle on his hard palette and over his teeth. The alpha tastes like toothpaste and come, and Nix wants past that minty flavor to the good stuff.

“All right, Finn. Dial it down a notch. We’ve got some ground to cover, and then we’re going to sleep for twelve hours.”

Nix hears Gideon but has no desire to do what he asks because Finn’s lips are sucking hard on his throat at the bolt of his jaw, determined to leave a mark.

“Ya! Bad dog.”

There’s a smack, and the way Finn yelps, he’s glad there wasn’t one for him.

“Fuck off, Gid. I mean it.” He doesn’t because there’s a gleam in his eye when he meets Nix’s with a wink. He has learned already that these two like to go toe-to-toe. It’s foreplay.

Grayson pulls him away to make it easier on them, and Grayson gets a faux growl from Finn for his trouble.

“Alright, alright, but let’s take this to the couch. My ass is too sore for the breakfast bar.”

“Can I ask, were you and Gideon..?” He waggles his eyebrows at Finn.

“Nix, you shouldn’t be doing it if you can’t say it,” Gideon sing-songs as he sits gingerly on the couch, and Nix’s wolf won’t let his alpha get away with that so easily.

Nix bends over and puts his hands on Gideon’s thighs. He lets his robe gape open, and based on the draft, if Gideon looks away from his gaze, he’s going to get an eyeful. As it is, the scent of that all-natural vanilla lube is wafting up through the opening. Nix relishes the visuals of Gideon’s oh shit moment.

He then lowers his voice as low as it goes and growls, “You’re right. So sorry. Did you and Finnie fuck hard? Did you make each other come? Are your legs sore and your ass wet? Was it good? Wish I could have seen you both. Maybe next time you fuck, I can watch or even–”

He’s yanked back by arms around his waist but maintains eye contact. This is a game of chicken he’s determined to win—and he does because Gideon blinks, blinks, blinks. He is frozen, flushed from his ears down his neck, and it disappears down into the neckline of his tank top. His teeth are biting into his bottom lip, and he’s sweating. Just a little bit.

He’s not the only one, though. Finn and Grayson watch with mouths hanging open, black currant and basil scents lush and redolent with desire.

“You can put me down, Jamie. I think I made my point, don’t you, Gideon?” That snaps Gideon out of it.

Eyes narrowed, he sits up straight, adjusting the front of his sweats. “I see how it is. Alright, kitten. Point one to you. Don’t get used to it.”

He feels like he won the lottery and gives a little shimmy of joy. Every eye in the room is on him, and there’s no warning before the robe’s belt falls to the floor.

“Fuck. Me,” Finn whispers.

Nix whispers back, “Not my preferred position, but if you insist.” He loves the dazed look on Finn’s face, and he has quite literally never had so much fun. It’s liberating to feel this sexual and safe at the same time .

“Enough, you menace. We have ground to cover, and then we can sleep.” Jamie ties the robe closed, knotting it twice for good measure.

Finn sighs—a sound that somehow manages to be both disappointment and relief.

Nix drops onto the couch, landing on his butt. Suddenly, sleep sounds so good.

“While we wait for the blood to return to Dr. Merritt’s brain–”

“Like you aren’t hard as a fucking rock, you hypocrite,” Finn mutters.

Rolling his eyes, Gideon starts again. “While we’re waiting on Dr. Merritt, let me start with the books from Dr. Spencer. Gray, Finn, and I have given them a read, and I’ll add them to our pile of resources here when we’re done.” There are two old books with colored tabs sticking out the sides sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

“I’ve told Nix about the rarity of omegas, but I think he’s more interested in the changes to his biology. The slick is not so bad, right, Angel?” Grayson is so enthusiastic it’s sweet—but he’s also not the one making his own fucking lube.

“I’m sure there will be lots of time to appreciate it, but right now, it’s inconvenient and weird. How do people with vaginas do it?”

It hits him like it did when he realized he could smell the Weres in his pack. “Wait. Are you telling me I have a vagina?! ” The urge to open his legs and bend over his lap to see if he could see one is strong. Would that even work? Can people with vaginas see them? Will his dick be in the way?

“Nix!” It’s too loud, and he flinches, but it brings him back from his spiral. His apparent panic has brought Finn back from his horny daze. “No! No vagina. Of course not.”

“What do you mean ‘of course not?’ I’m a Were. I am probably the only omega in the world. I have a self-lubricating sex organ. Is it a stretch to think I might wonder if I have a vagina? Really? This is the thing we’re calling weird?”

Grayson finds his fisted hand and gently pries it open. “Breathe, baby.”

It’s damn fine advice, given he’s feeling a bit light-headed, so he breathes deeply in and out a few times.

Suitably chastened, the doctor grimaces. “Sorry, you’re right. Do you want me to share a bit of the information we have about omega biology? As Grayson mentioned, we don’t have anything really by the way of actual modern science, but the accounts are good, and I do have your scans.”

“Lay it on me.” There’s a nervous anxiety building, but he’s trying to remain open to whatever Finn is about to say.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow…er…today? Some things are better handled in the light of day.”

“Finn, please, I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” He had. It’s only been two days, but it feels like his body is on a journey, and he has no guidebook to tell him where it’s going. He needs the basics at the very least, and right now is preferable.

“You’re right again. Here’s the layman’s version: when you transitioned to an omega Were, your internal reproductive organs altered in such a way that you now have a functioning uterus, Fallopian tubes, ovaries, cervix, and birth canal—but no vagina. ” Huh. He wants to laugh at the irony, but there’s noise in his ears; it’s static-y and buzzing.

“I have a baby factory in me now? Omega males make babies? Holy shit.” He finally gives in and opens the robe, looking down, and sees what he’s always seen. His dick (a bit on the small side), his balls (also small and now hairless, which he hadn’t noticed). He supposes it’s not any weirder than him smelling people or having fangs and claws.

Then, it occurs to him. “Wait, does that mean any of you can put a baby in me?” The idea doesn’t sound that bad, actually, even if he currently doesn’t know the specifics of how it would get out. His wolf is thrilled, and the only self-lubricating ass in the room seems to celebrate the idea with a trickle of sweet vanilla.

Grayson groans loudly. “Jesus. Fuck. Excuse me a minute, Angel. I’ll be right back.” The powder room door slams shut, and the fan kicks on.

“Jamie? Can you? Can you put a baby in me? For real?” His beloved mate’s jaw is clenched so hard it might crack, and the scent of pine is making that floaty place beckon yet again.

“Please stop saying that.” Gideon sounds tense, and Nix’s stomach drops. They don’t want him? They don’t want babies with him? It’s ridiculous because two minutes ago, he didn’t even know he could.

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

He must have said it out loud because Finn whimpers and almost doubles over. “Please, you have to stop. We do. All of us really, really do, but you’re making it hard for us to not want to do it right the fuck now .”

Oh. He lets his wolf claw back on their panic and feelings of rejection to let himself think about how this news makes him feel. He’s happy—weirdly unphased by the idea. Enthusiastic, even.

“Sorry, uh yeah. Sorry. Can we talk about it later, though? Because of all the things I have heard in the last forty-eight hours, thinking I can have babies with you all is the best yet.” At their collective groan, Nix wants to giggle—not at their misery, but in joy.

They might actually want him for real, and maybe forever.

Nix has always loved children. He’d loved his part-time babysitting jobs and his caregiver job in the nursery with the babies at church when he lived with his mom and dad. Even the little girls in the apartment building, with their hand-drawn pictures. He loved them all.

He remembers when his first-grade teacher was pregnant—how excited he’d been to tell his mom that he wanted a baby in his belly like Ms. Martin. How inconsolable he’d been when she gently explained that he wouldn’t be able to have his own in exactly that way.

This is a long-buried, secret dream come true.

His happy-aroused scent must make it worse because Gideon is growling—having bent the book from Dr. Spencer nearly in half horizontally. Jamie is pacing and pulling at his hair, muttering to himself without taking his dazed eyes off Nix for a second.

The door to the powder room opens, and Grayson–clearly having just come–slinks out on hips that are well-oiled by his pleasure. He’s sweaty, and his damp hair is sticking to his neck and face, his lips bitten red, and his sweatpants leaving little to the imagination. He’s gorgeous and so fucking sexy it only adds fuel to the fire.

“Oh, come on !” Finn moans, falling backward on the couch.

Nix can’t help but agree with the sentiment. That low simmer of arousal that always seems present when he’s around his mates is becoming less easy to ignore, but he is determined to get through the rest of this before he has that pre-scheduled brain shutdown.

Moving as quickly as he dares, Nix pulls open the door to the pool deck from the original small crack to as far as it will go, and he thinks he sees Finn consider another cold plunge but then decide against it.

“Okay, mates. Deep breaths.”

When Grayson comes up beside him and moves to put his nose in his throat, Nix scoots away. “I don’t think that’s going to help, Gray.” His alpha whines, but Nix pushes him down onto the couch.

Gideon and Jamie have assumed their seats again, with the brisk fall air cleansing it of Nix and Grayson’s arousal. Finn looks relieved, as well. “Finnie, I assume there’s more we need to cover? Then I want to sleep and have five seconds to think about all this.”

Clearing his throat, Finn picks up one of the books. “Right. Okay, is everyone in control again?”

Gideon mutters for now and brings Jamie’s wrist to his nose. It’s a sweet gesture, and Nix sends his mates an awwwww glance, only to receive a huge grin from Jamie and rolled eyes from Gideon.

“Well, aside from…uh…what we were talking about earlier…there’s the matter of heats.” Gideon groans again, and Grayson catches his breath.

“Heats? What is that?” Jamie asks. The other three alphas seem to be knowledgeable, and by their reactions, he’s quickly grasping that this isn’t going to be any easier than the baby discussion.

“Dr. Merritt. Just fucking get it over with. This is killing me.” Gideon has his head in his hands.

“Alright, this isn’t easy, you know. You read the damn books, too. You could be the one doing this. Cut me some slack, please.”

Nix can see how stressed his mate is at having to be the messenger—he hopes it’s not bad. Going to his knees in front of Finn on the couch, he grabs his hand and squeezes. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. You’re here with me and the others, too. Just tell me.”

Finn seems to get lost in his eyes for a minute but gives him a small nod. “Of course. Alphas have times in their hormone cycles that occur to create opportunities for peak breeding. It’s called a rut. ”

Gideon mutters, fuck me.

“Like Rowan? Right now?” Nix has to hold his wolf back from walking down the hall and up the stairs to the nest room and seeing for himself, but he knows there’s more. “Omegas don’t have ruts, though. You said heat before. Omegas have heats.”

“Right. Alphas have biannual ruts, and according to this,” he holds up one of the heavily tabbed books, “Omegas have biannual heats.”

“To maximize breeding ?” Oh. My.

Finn’s response is almost a whisper. “Yes.”

“Knowing I’m going to have one isn’t the same as knowing what it’ll be like, though, is it? Jamie said Rowan isn’t doing well. Is he sick? Will I be sick?”

“For fuck’s sake. Kitten, sit. Rowan has been horny as fuck. All he can think about is fucking for about three days. The books say the same for omegas, but we can’t know for sure what that looks like or how long it lasts.”

“So, I’m going to be horny for maybe three days or longer. More horny than I have been since I woke up? Cuz, wow. That doesn’t sound terrible. It sounds good, though, no? Unless you don’t think anyone will want to help me?” Because enduring that burning need all by himself sounds awful.

Nix keeps his head long enough to check the faces of his alpha to gauge if they suddenly found the idea repulsive. Nope. Jamie’s eyes are red, and Gideon still has his head hanging between his knees as he breathes deeply, Grayson is slowly grinding up into a throw pillow, eyes boring into his, and Finn has checked out, eyes glazed over and panting a little bit.

“Everyone, here on board then? Great. Just need to check in with Leo, Rowan, and Luca. Should I go ask them now?” He stands abruptly, which gets Gideon’s attention.

“No! Oh fuck, no. Now is not a good time to check in with Rowan—maybe tomorrow.”

“Oh. If you’re sure?” Nix would have liked to see them—his wolf is missing them a lot. Especially knowing Rowan might be hurting.

“So, babies, and horny like crazy twice a year. I think that’s doable. Oh, let’s not forget the self-lubricating asshole. For what? Oh—to make it all easier? Makes sense. Anything else for right now? Because this omega is tired.” Nix finds he really is done.

“Nix…” There’s a chorus of voices, and he knows they just want to be sure he’s okay.

He is, or he will be. Nix is sure that tomorrow, he’s going to have more thoughts about this complete shift in his gender identity, his role in the pack, and maybe—just maybe—being a parent. I mean, is there birth control?

Nope. Not tonight. Some questions will have to wait.

He moves in front of Jamie, wanting his alpha to pick him up—he’s getting used to being carried around like a king.

Once he’s back in his love’s arms, he rests his head against a broad shoulder, already anticipating the softness of a bed that smells like home. When he’s finally horizontal, he gathers various hands, pulling them up, over, and onto himself until he’s surrounded. The steady rhythm of his mates’ heartbeats lulls him, and he lets the world slip away.