Bonds of Fate (Fated in the Stars #2)

Chapter Twelve Rowan

Rowan

If there’s one thing Rowan hates about ruts, it’s the chafing.

By the end of the second day and the third bottle of lube, his dick is always on fire, and not in a fun way.

Wait— is there a fun way to have a dick on fire? Probably not. He’s never said it out loud because he doesn’t want to listen to his mates make fun of him, even though he knows he can’t be alone in it.

Attractive hypocrites, the lot of them.

So, the first thing he feels when he wakes up is the infernal burning sensation of his overused dick. Grayson is lying on his arm, and they are both covered in come and that third bottle of lube. No idea what day it is or even what time it is, but it looks like early afternoon sunshine is lying in beams across the floor.

He can feel every muscle in his body thumping in time with his heartbeat–like you do after a good workout–from his toes to the top of his head. Rowan can’t remember a rut like this one, where he just rode wave after wave, one after the other, with hardly a second to catch his breath. No doubt it’s because his wolf is pushy and loud and has a goddamned one-track mind.

He’s used to feeling out of control when his rut hits. But with the work he does with Gideon now—and with Jay and Leo to assist—it’s become manageable.

In fact, it’s something he even looks forward to.

For those few days, he enjoys letting his wolf do what he was born to do—within reason. Jay and Gideon keep him within the broad boundaries they set beforehand, and delicious Leo makes him work for it a little bit. It’s Heaven.

Aside from the chafing, of course.

But this time, it’s been exhausting, physically and emotionally, because his wolf will not listen. Like the time in the ICU and down in the gym, his wolf sees Nix, and suddenly, all bets are off. All his wolf wants is to breed his omega and make him round with his pup.

Just the thought has him groaning and his cock filling again.

Down, motherfucker.

He looks at Grayson again, and his wolf grumbles with pride, satisfaction thrumming through him at the deep bites marking their alpha mate’s neck and shoulders. Rowan grits his teeth as he moves out of the nest.

His eye catches on a smaller, healing bite on Grayson’s groin, above Jay’s pack bonding bite.

The wolf knows those teeth.

Before he can stop himself, he presses his nose to the still-healing wound in hopes he can catch the scent of his omega—he’s sorely missed it.

Barely-there-sweet-vanilla mixes with Gray’s fresh basil and his wolf hums with satisfaction.

Omega. Mine.

Maybe they should find their omega.

With only that thought in mind, Rowan is at the door to the nest room as stealthily as his wolf can manage. It’s just him and Grayson in the room now, and ?they seem to think that is enough to stop him from leaving.

Naked, already damp with sweat from the rising wave, he slips through the door and creeps down the stairs toward the living room.

His nose leads him to the couch, where his omega is curled up with sweet Luca—soft red lips puckered around one of Luca’s fingers, the occasional quiet sucking sound breaking the silence.

“Rowan.”

Leo stands in the kitchen, holding a plate of sandwiches and two protein drinks. He moves slowly, carefully—so carefully that it makes Rowan’s heart twinge—because it looks a lot like fear.

“Ro, let’s go back to the nest. Grayson and Finnie are hungry.”

The wolf shakes their head. “Nix.”

Their breaths come deep and heavy, pulling in lungfuls of chocolate and vanilla, the scent wafting up from the warm, sleeping couple. It’s comfort—thick and familiar.

And Rowan wants it.

Wants them.

Wants him.

For himself .

“Fuck, Rowan. Get your wolf under control. You don’t want to scare him. Or Luca. Come with me. Please.”

Leo sets the food and drinks on the counter—just in case.

Just in case, what?

Rowan can’t imagine. Leo is strong and fast, his body built for power, yet Rowan’s wolf is wily—and motivated.

If it came down to it, he could take him.

They both know it.

What? No. Fuck, what do you mean, motivated? Are we considering fighting our mate over our omega? That’s…no.

His hands clench as his wolf hurls every filthy fantasy he’s ever allowed himself—every forbidden thought about their omega—at him, all at once.

He forces a breath, modulating it through his mouth as he starts a backward countdown from a thousand. His eyes squeeze shut, and he takes a single, tiny step backward. Then another. And another—each one slower than the last—until he reaches the middle of the room and finally manages to turn away.

Got you now, you wily bastard.

Leo meets him halfway, his touch firm but steady as he guides Rowan back to the nest.

And then—holy shit.

Grayson is there, of course, but also Finn.

Rowan had completely missed him. Finn is curled up in the corner of the bed, buried beneath every pillow in the nest, sound asleep.

His beta guides him down until he’s perched on the edge of the sunken nest, feet on the mattress, before going to his knees. “Look at how good you are, Ro.”

Leo’s nails scratch lightly along the inside of his thighs, and Rowan, still holding on to some control, threads his fingers gently through Leo’s hair.

The desire he felt for his omega hasn’t faded—it’s still there, simmering beneath his skin—but now, it’s tinged with loneliness.

He misses Nix.

His laugh. His gentle hands. His quick wit and that smart mouth.

But it’s Rowan, the man who aches for him.

Because his wolf is quiet.

“It’ll be okay, Ro. You’re almost there, maybe today, even. You were so good out there. Let me help you.” There’s a fragrant cinnamon scent growing, and together with his own spiced rum, it makes Rowan’s mouth water.

“No. You.”

Rowan flips a surprised Leo onto his back, then kisses him sweetly, savoring his delicious mouth.

So handsome.

Leo’s head lands hard on Grayson’s thigh, the impact jolting Grayson awake with a startled blink.

“Gray hands. Please.”

Leo loves to be held down—loves to fight against it, to strain just enough to feel it.

Grayson doesn’t hesitate. He grabs hold, unyielding—just the way Leo likes it.

When his beta’s hands are held firm, Rowan shows his appreciation—nipping and biting at his collarbones and his jaw.

He’s rewarded with low, breathy groans.

And still, his wolf remains quiet.

Rowan leans back on his heels, lifting Leo’s leg, he presses a kiss to Leo’s ankle. Then, the back of his knee.

He drags the flat of his tongue up the inside of his thigh, just to hear him sigh before nipping at Jay’s bond bite, relishing the way Leo shudders beneath him.

Placing his foot gently back on the bed, Rowan moves up—laving each nipple, biting down as hard as he dares.

Leo squirms, chasing friction against his cock.

And still—his wolf is quiet.

Rowan runs his nails up and down Leo’s sides, slow and deliberate, as he licks and bites at his soft, sweet navel.

Leo twists in Grayson’s grip, but he’s held firm.

And still—his wolf is quiet.

Rowan straddles his beloved mate and slides down on his cock—relishing the burn and leaning forward enough to take Grayson into his mouth.

And still, his wolf is quiet.

Rowan feels his rut break as he works them to completion, moving his hips in tight circles instead of bouncing up and down so he can keep the head of Grayson’s cock in his mouth while his mates’ moans take him higher. When Finn rises, tall and beautiful, from his cave of pillows to take Rowan’s cock in his hand, biting his shoulder—he comes and comes and comes as his mates follow him over the edge.

And still, his wolf is quiet.

Finally.