Bonds of Fate (Fated in the Stars #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four Jay

Jay

Rewind.

Jay loved music.

One of Jay’s earliest memories was of a teacher playing the guitar in his kindergarten classroom. He’d rushed home, begging to learn. It had taken a lot to beard the lion in his den, sitting through his father’s misogynistic slurs about how strong alphas weren’t artists; they were athletes or academics.

Never mind that the music industry was built on the leadership of a hundred artistic alpha Weres.

So, yeah, he’d been surprised to be allowed to play, and fuck, had it come easily. After guitar, he picked up piano, then drums—his music teachers encouraging him while his parents remained indifferent. But when Mrs. Dewitt, his freshman-year drama teacher, asked him to audition for Hairspray , something shifted.

The role cracked open a new kind of hunger in Jamie’s soul.

And because it fed his soul, he threw himself into it with a joy and patience he rarely had for other things—like training at his father’s boxing club or the academics his mother preferred. Oh, Jamie loved sports—his alpha was strong, his temper fierce.

More importantly, it kept his father off his back. If there were trophies on the shelf, there were fewer insults about how “fruity” Jamie’s music was.

Mrs. Dewitt had seen real potential in fourteen-year-old Jamie Rhodes. She knew he wouldn’t get to live his dream if he stayed where he was. The highly regarded music-focused program at their high school was his shot.

His mother had been easy to convince—the promise of prestige, money, and social clout got her on board.

Jamie nailed his audition, though his mother would later take credit for all the years of “effort” she’d put in. She bragged that it was her genes, her sacrifices, that made it all possible.

Jamie had stopped worrying about his mother’s narcissism long before that. He was in the best music program in Florida, doing what he loved, finally looking toward a future without his parents’ control.

When Ripley Records held an open-call audition at the end of his junior year for a music reality show that would result in a reality show that promised a coveted internship, Jay performed an original song. He hadn’t expected much—but a few months later, he was the only one out of 800 students in Florida who got accepted.

It should have been a dream come true, but by the time he got the results, he had a new dream.

One with freckles and a raspy voice, and who lit him up in every way it is possible to feel for another person.

It was the hardest decision he’d ever had to make to leave Florida and Nix, but he had put his faith in Ripley Records—faith that they would give him the skills to live a life where he could provide for his mate. The music industry could do that.

It was incredible, and eventually, even through his grief, he absorbed everything he could, improved his skills, and met Leo and Luca. Tried to live a life Nix would have been proud of.

Jay would never say so, but Long Road Home’s rise to fame had not been a surprise to him. Is it egotistical? Probably. Is he right? Abso-fucking-lutely. Does he let it make him an asshole? Fuck, no. The industry has too many of those already, and without the receipts to back them up.

Still, for as much as he loves creating and performing music, Jay hates the bureaucratic fuckery. Hates the spin-doctoring required to keep humans unaware of the Were influence on their music and hates even more the requisite image-making.

But as the saying goes, fame is a double-edged sword. There are always eyes on them and obligations that interfere with their real-life family life and, more and more often, troublesome people to wrangle.

Jay isn’t a hypocrite; he has always felt the price they paid was worth it so they can do what they love, but more and more, Ripley Records is making it a challenge to navigate a polyamorous lifestyle, let alone one in the LGBTQIA+ community in a country still grappling with its rampant homophobic views.

Were record companies have contingencies in place for public relations issues, but recently, Ripley Records has been focusing on a more restrictive approach than Jay and his mates are comfortable with. They are diverting public relations budgets to save a few bucks or to line the pockets of company execs. It made it look and feel like they were working against LRH rather than with them, and it made working with their manager especially tricky.

Unfortunately, this call to their company manager is one of those times.

Long Road Home has always let the company choose its manager. It didn’t feel like a big deal since LRH had the last word on their music—the rest hadn’t mattered as much. Their manager handled their day-to-day schedules and smoothed over any fan interaction they might encounter in the wild. It’s a straightforward job, even though it requires a great deal of skill and finesse.

Until recently, Jay and his mates have always treated their manager as family. Their original manager, Gene, had been with them since the beginning but had recently followed his wife to New York last year. They were sad to see him go but happy they had this opportunity because they, too, believe family is everything.

Gene’s replacement, Jason Price, had come highly recommended by a friend of an executive at Black Vinyl Records. Ripley had fast-tracked his hire when the Rhodes pack had been out of the country for Grayson’s birthday at the end of last year, and Jay has always felt that it had been on purpose.

Luca hadn’t taken to the middle-aged beta at all—said he was too charming, always a little bit too familiar, and a “company man”.

Jay couldn’t disagree, but despite that, Jason had handled the details of his job competently, and they had managed to get along fine—not as well as Gene, but fine.

Right now, though, Jason is not doing fine—and soon, he’s going to be looking for another job.

Leo and Jay had reluctantly left their mates after dinner to make the call to Jason from the solitude of Finn’s library, eager to get what they thought would be an easy call out of the way before tackling the more difficult task of hashing out a plan for Nix’s coming out.

But easy, this was not.

“Jay, you can’t just go on emergency hiatus and then announce you’re in a gay polyamorous relationship with seven other people.” His nasal tone is condescending, and the obvious implication is that Jay is being unreasonable. It’s ridiculous because that wasn’t at all what Jay had said they wanted to do.

So he tries again, forced patience and the tiniest bit of disrespect in his voice. “Jason, we haven’t any plans to do that, but we will be engaged in a very public trial involving a former Ripley Records employee–”

Jay and Leo could not have expected what Jason said next. “Mr. Hayes is not? considered a former employee.”

“I beg your pardon?” Not fired?

Ripley Records is still putting morality clauses into contracts, and Jay had always assumed all employees were subjected to them when they signed on the dotted line. That Hayes still has his fucking key card and employee discount—after trying to kill Jay’s Nix is horrific.

“Mr. Hayes is still technically employed. He has not yet been found guilty, nor is he permanently incarcerated. The company doesn’t want to risk a lawsuit should he be exonerated.”

Exonerated. Hell, no.

This isn’t a personal vendetta where Jay is asking the company to mete out punishment, not some minor workplace dispute. No—these are high-level, federal crimes.

This is assault and rape.

This is torture and attempted murder.

That those crimes were perpetrated against the love of Jay’s life only makes it worse.

Just hearing how blasé Jason is about it makes his blood fucking boil.

The company is worried about fucking optics when they should be worried about his extremely pissed-off enigma wolf instead. Ripley Records must have a short memory. Perhaps Jay has let them think he’s a trained puppy rather than the predator that hides under all that civilized Were education.

Jay has an overwhelming desire to hang up and then throw his phone through the windows in Finn’s library. The only things stopping him are Leo’s restraining hand on his arm and the potential for the disappointed puppy dog eyes he’d get from Finn about exposing his books to the elements.

It had started to rain, after all, and rain isn’t good for books.

But it is a near thing, and his mate must know it.

Leo speaks up in an icy voice. “Jason, this is not up for discussion. We are calling simply to let you know how things are going to go. There will be a trial, and we will publicly support our mate. We expect that Ripley Records will do the same.”

Fucking right, they do. Leo continues through gritted teeth, and Jay fears for his rockstar-worthy dental work. “Long Road Home has been part of the Ripley Records family for years, and, given Dawson Hayes has assaulted and almost killed our mate, PR should already be in the works to handle the fallout.

Additionally, you have known since we visited the offices over a week ago that we will continue our hiatus until such a time as we feel we can return to work. If the best course of action for our pack is that we come out, then we will come out. That has always been on the table. Regardless, you must agree there is to be a certain level of loyalty to be expected?”

Leo is right—LRH is responsible for more than a third of the company’s annual revenue. They work tirelessly to do more than their job requires, and in the past, it has always entitled them to speak their minds.

There have been countless hours of discussions with their legal teams and the company about the impact an announcement like this would have on the company’s investments, the music industry, and their fans. It had been heavily implied during those talks that the company’s loyalty and resources should be behind them, no matter what.

When did things change so much?

“You are correct, Leo. We do expect Long Road Home’s loyalty to the company. We appreciate your position but cannot support a public coming out so close to award season and with your album schedule so tightly packed. Additionally, our legal department has been working to keep the trial out of the public eye, as the optics aren’t good for the company. I’m sure you understand?”

If that’s how almost ten long years of blood, sweat, and sacrifice are acknowledged, then things have changed, and not for the better. Jay’s not sure of how or why, but he knows he can’t throw his name or his future in with a company that doesn’t make doing the right thing their top priority.

Leo, Rowan, and Luca have always felt the same way. It’s unbelievable to think that for all that LRH has done for Ripley Records–not just financially, but in the goodwill they create in the industry–they are here, on the edge of the end.

And that’s where they are—the end.

Jay catches sight of his reflection in the window behind Finn’s office couch. It’s distorted, and it isn’t from the rain pelting down. He is fucking furious, and it shows. He’s verging on a verbal meltdown that will free his wolf’s temper.

How dare they? How dare they do that to LRH? To his mates. To him. To Nix. He lets his scent burst into that of a forest fire, and his wolf growls, low and deep. Even the even-keeled Leo’s cinnamon is toasty.

The time has come to put their departure contingencies into action.

The Costas firm had negotiated their contract three years ago, and Antonio made sure they had contractual leverage and escape clauses should they ever need them.

Turns out they fucking do because there is no way they are sweeping this under the corporate rug. He meant it when he told Grayson he would give it all up in a minute, and they would not stand as part of a company that demands they hide any more than the Human-Were Alliance requires.

Still, Jason has the fucking gall to reiterate, “I’m sure you understand?”

“We certainly do. Our lawyers will be in touch.” Leo hangs up, tense beside him on the couch, holding Jay’s phone in an iron grip, and it occurs to him that this isn’t the first time in the past year that they have had to stand firm against the company’s demands. It hadn’t been enough to push them out the door, but now…

In the past, when they had dreamed of where they thought they would be, it hadn’t always been under Ripley Records’ vast, influential umbrella. There’d been talk of their own company, making music, and maybe even fostering their own group of like-minded musicians.

But Jay had always been loyal, always felt he owed it to the company that gave them their start to stay. So now that they’re done–and they so fucking are–Jay thought there might be a bit of sadness at the possibility of being untethered. But there isn’t. There is only a sense of relief buried under the fury.

It’s time for a change.

“That sucked so bad. He’s an asshole. Jaybird, what are we going to fucking do? We can’t let them sweep this under the rug. We need their support, right?”

“Fuck them. We’re done with this shit, Leo. But you were so good back there. You always make me proud, but you kicked his ass up one side of Music Row and down the other.” He gives his blushing mate a hard kiss, squeezing his thigh.

Jay is so lucky that these men are his mates. “When I say we’re done, I mean we are done. Do you think you guys would be up for a change?”

“A change? Like leaving Ripley Records? Seriously? You better not be joking right now.”

Jay’s mate is up on his knees, clutching his arm, his fearful mood replaced with pure excitement. Leo has disliked the company since the beginning. It had always been Jay dragging his mates along after him with an apparently misguided sense of loyalty and for the sake of sticking by a few valued employees who’d become friends.

“Yes, I fucking mean it. This is the last straw. Try not to say you told me too loudly or in front of the others, eh?” Jay leans his head on the back of the couch, fury banked to a slow burn.

“Leo was right about something? Do tell.” Finn heads straight over to his desk and settles into his office chair, trailing the subtle scents of popcorn, black currant, and vanilla behind him.

Snorting out a huff of laughter, Leo replies, “The fucking company is trying to screw us over about managing the trial.”

Finn snorts in disgust, sitting heavily in his desk chair. “Can’t say I didn’t see that coming. That fuss they kicked up last year when Luca couldn’t get to Lollapalooza? Or that time when you and Grayson went to that art show in Paris, and the tabloids had a heyday? Or when I had my wisdom teeth taken out, and you had to cancel that Stones spread at the last minute? Or–”

Finn is right. The list is long, and Jay has spent too long defending a company that no longer serves their purpose or meets their needs.

“I get it. It’s been a long time coming. I’m sorry if I made you feel you were banging your head against a brick wall, Leo. We should have done this three years ago.” They’d had the chance to go, but he’d convinced his mates to stay. He promises himself he’ll do better.

For now, he pushes his guilty conscience aside in favor of entertaining the possibilities that are swirling in his head. Most importantly, is that after they make sure Nix is safe, Jay will make sure Ripley Records is very sorry.

But not tonight.

Tonight, Jay is fucking knackered, and that will be something they can talk to Luca, Rowan, their mates, and Antonio about tomorrow. It won’t be able to wait long—not after Jason’s two-faced response—and Ripley Records is probably already on alert.

The scent of a happy mate makes him smile despite the last fifteen-minute shit show. Leo is over the moon at the possibility of them finally being free.

Jay’s mate leans in, drapes an arm around his shoulders, and rocks them side to side. “Let’s not sweat it right now, babe. We’ve got to tell my dad about our sweet mate.”

Finn, ever the voice of reason, chimes in from his spot across the room, his tone casual.“Leo is right. We can talk about this tomorrow. We all stand behind LRH in every way. I, for one, will be glad not to have to go to that Christmas banquet one more year. The food is atrocious, and listening to Gideon complain about it only ever makes it worse.”

Jay chuckles ruefully, shaking his head. He already knew his family would support them—there had never been any doubt.

Sometimes, change is just what the doctor ordered.

Finn busies himself setting up the two monitors on his desk—one to conference with Antonio and the other for Nix’s council, Erin, who will be expecting their call once they’ve spoken with Leo’s Dad.

“Is it bad if I admit I’m nervous about this? There’s so much that can go wrong. Are we doing the right thing?”

Jay isn’t ashamed to voice his doubts to his mates. He’s relieved Nix is sitting this one out—his omega doesn’t need to see his alpha leader shaking in his boots.

He doesn’t need Finn or the legal team to tell him that the resurgence of an extinct secondary gender will send shock waves through the public, the government, radical groups, and LRH fans alike. Keeping it quiet under the Human-Were Alliance? A whole other ballgame.

The lack of control makes his gut burn with acid and his brain swarm with a million restless ants. The sheer tangle of emotions is almost enough to choke him.

It’s a small relief, then, that Antonio values punctuality. He’s waiting for their call, and Jay is more than ready to get through the hard part—because the sooner this is done, the sooner he can crawl into bed, bury himself in his mates, and shut those thoughts down for five fucking hours.

“Boys! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so late in the day?” Right to the point, then—at least Jay knows what to expect when it comes to Antonio Costas.

“Dad, we need your help with Nix’s court case. Some things are making it complicated, and we think you might be the best man for the job.”

“Boo-Boo, you are flattering me, and I am no more going to fall for it now than I did when you were seventeen. I understood you were happy with Erin’s work. Has something changed?”

Jay knows how lucky they are to have the brilliant lawyer in their corner. She is driven by those same principles of hard work and loyalty that Jay values. When she asked whether Nix wanted his alphas present for their talk, it was a relief to know that someone other than his mates was there to help him navigate this new life Nix had woken up in.

The least Jay can do is let her employer know that. “Not at all. She has been invaluable, but in this matter, we had hoped you both work together. There are some things you need to know beforehand, and that’s why we’ve called you first.”

“I am glad she’s doing good work. If it’s not about the trial, what is it? It looks serious, Jay. Is Nix not alright?”

Antonio has a reputation for being astute, and he reads the room perfectly. Even through the monitors, it wouldn’t be difficult to discern that Jay’s jaw is clenched and Leo is perched on the edge of his seat. Finn has also subtly wheeled his office chair out of camera range so as not to be perceived by their shrewd father-in-law.

Antonio’s face reflects none of his curiosity, and for a moment, Jay is envious of the ability to shield his emotions from those around him. Jay has never been able to do anything but shout his moods to the room, be it joy, anger, or sadness.

Add to it a scent that smells like a forest fire when he’s pissed, and everyone in a three-meter radius runs for the hills. If Jay feels it, the world will know. It’s made being a celebrity an exercise in masking that he still works at every time.

“Dad, Nix is fine. He’s great, or well, he is okay for now…but…well…”

“You’re not acting like he’s alright, son. Mama told me at dinner that you’d said he was feeling better.”

Jay tunes into the conversation when Antonio’s irritation at his son’s inability to verbalize what he wants to say becomes reflected in his tone. He knows it’s not because Leo wants to drag things out, and he is rarely at a loss for words. It’s just that bringing up that your mate is a mythical sub-gender to your father isn’t like discussing the weather, and Leo has always been conflicted about the kinds of loyalty he still owes his first alpha.

Worrying about expressing it incorrectly or disappointing his father would take Leo’s normal confidence down a notch or two, but Jay won’t stand for any verbal criticism. Leo is his own man, Jay’s mate, and he will always be deserving of respect.

Antonio isn’t paying attention to anything but his son, let alone Jay’s less-than-pleased expression. “Out with it, Leo. It can’t be any worse than your sister telling me she was pregnant out of wedlock, and if Gideon hasn’t murdered anyone, then how bad can it be?”

Fuck, well, that’s almost as close to the truth as Jay could expect anyone to get. Their new mate can have children, and Gideon does want to kill someone…

Leo thinks so, too, and it’s enough to get Leo over his reluctance to spill beans without a preamble. “Okay, I…Dad, Nix isn’t a beta. He’s an omega, and there’s one more in Nashville that we know of, but they’re flying under the radar. There are even four more in countries all over the world. He’s perfect, Dad. You’re going to love him, but he’s hurting, and we need you to make sure he can win this court case.”

It was a word vomit of all the primary points, and in typical Leo form, he flops back onto the couch with a sigh when he runs out of steam. People often think Grayson is the drama queen in their house, but it is 100% Leo Costas, especially in front of his Dad.

Antonio’s poker face has not budged one iota. He has no “tell” that Jay can see, and it’s obvious even to him why Henry wanted him in their corner of the courtroom. In the end, his logic wins out.

“Leo Costas. That is not funny.” The older alpha growls, and Jay’s hackles rise, too. It’s not Antonio’s place, and it hasn’t been in eight years.

Jay has had enough rude interactions tonight. All Jay ever asks is fucking politeness and respect in his conversations, so he lets some of his banked anger surface into his tone and, he is sure, his expression. “Antonio, Leo would never lie about Nix and never to you. When Nix transitioned to Were, he did so as an omega. We haven’t said anything before because until this morning, we were certain he was the only one, and you can understand how that would make him a target.”

“Omega.” Leo’s Dad is at a loss for words, and who can blame him? Every single person in Jay’s household is going through much the same response, in varying degrees, to the vast array of changes that loving Nix brings.

“Sir, I can confirm that, without a doubt, our mate is an omega. We wouldn’t lie about this.”

“I believed you the first time, Jay. Truly, I am just processing. Okay, that does change things then, doesn’t it? I assume Erin knew that the first day you visited the office? Yes, of course, she did. That’s what you were intent on protecting. I can see why. This will be big news.” He smiles, then. “Well, I, for one, am happy for all of you. Nix couldn’t join us tonight?”

Jay is grateful Nix isn’t present. Jay hasn’t had very good control over his emotions tonight, and he wouldn’t have wanted Nix exposed to Jason’s ignorance or the shit about Hayes. Plus, no one wants to get to know their father-in-law while discussing your torturer.

“Nix has had a very long day, and he is resting. He’s still recovering mentally and physically as well. He wanted us to thank you for helping him.” Finn slides his chair into view, and Jay is surprised that his voice is a bit sharp. Their puppy can always be relied upon to be respectful no matter the douchebag, but coming out in defense of Nix is clearly where he is drawing the line.

“We are family, Finn. Costas’s stand together.”

“Thank you, sir. Shall we conference in Erin?” Finn is quick to connect the other call.

Like her employer, Nix’s attorney is waiting, and her desk is visible on the screen, piled high with papers and books. It’s organized chaos, and Jay sees Finn’s eye twitch at the mess of books and papers strewn over the surface.

“Erin, thank you for staying late,” Finn says.

“Certainly, it is easier to secure the information and keep Nix’s confidentiality this way.” No one wants to drag the meeting out longer than necessary, so Erin takes charge. “I have confirmed from Nix that we can proceed with all the parties present.”

Jay appreciates it every time as a reminder of Nix’s consent at work, and it reveals how the lawyer is carrying some of the load with competence and sensitivity.

“I received information from Henry this afternoon, as he is acting on behalf of another interested party. Nix consented to this as well, and while I have not shared our strategies as Nix’s protection remains our top priority, he did have several thoughts I think will be helpful. Why don’t we go over the parts we will need the pack to complete, and then Mr. Costas and I can discuss the legal particulars further?”

That sounds ideal to Jay. If there are things he and the pack need to be doing to make this as safe as possible for Nix, then he wants them on his radar.

“Erin, I think the others will agree that once Nix’s omega status is made public through the courts, this could derail the trial.” Antonio makes an excellent point. It’s not surprising the more experienced lawyer has big-picture concerns. It’s frightening to think that someone’s secondary gender could be enough of a factor that it would affect the entire fucking legal process.

“Agreed, but I have spoken to Nix regarding historical Omega laws, and with your help and Henry’s advice, I think we can keep the ball in our court until we need to have the information out there.”

Nix’s omega secret is a “ball” in someone’s court as if it’s a game. He knows it’s a turn of phrase, but it’s scary. Games rely on chance, and Jay is not a fan of playing fast-and-loose with his beloved.

The acid in his stomach churns again, and he rubs it until Leo takes over with a small smile. But if there are things he needs to do, then he will make sure with fucking certainty they are done correctly. “You mentioned the pack needs to do something to get things moving?”

“I did.” She shuffles a few papers around and then pulls out her tablet. “Henry suggests Nix files the basic registration certificate as omega. Normally, there are just boxes checked by parents, guardians, or sponsors.”

“Alpha or beta, right?” Leo asks.

“Exactly, but he’s suggesting you be truthful and just write ‘omega’ in and then drop it in the mail. Henry confirms that human-to-Were transitioned betas usually require accompanying medical documents. The added time it would take for a written request for clarification to reach you would also work to give us added time. Meanwhile, we will be working toward our goals concurrently.”

Finn looks uncertain. “Won’t the prosecution need a copy of his registration for the trial?”

“All that is required to commence proceedings is for us to confirm its submission—we will also indicate that the medical information has been delayed. We will have declared his transition with transparency. Finn, I’m going to stress that the prosecution isn’t looking for a transitioned omega. They are just dotting their i’s and crossing their t’s —they have their eye on the big prize.”

Jay is not new to the idea of giving people what they think they want, but are they willing to risk everything on this idea that the delay in the bureaucratic process will buy them the time they need and shield Nix from a pre-trial media circus?

Maybe five hours of sleep tonight will be a stretch.

“That sounds like we are leaving a lot about Nix’s safety to chance.”

Leo looks to his father, who has pulled up his tablet and begun taking notes. “Dad?”

“Trust us. I’ll have a better idea of the big picture after Erin and I talk. We will make sure we have covered our bases and have plans B through Z. Regardless of how we get there, I believe Henry is correct. They won’t notice Nix is omega until we make them notice.”

They have to trust in others to do what Jay cannot and have faith that they will succeed. It’s not going to be easy.

Well, fuck. Isn’t that the same as it is with Nix? Jay is going to have to trust his beloved to meet his tormentor and have faith that Nix can bring about the justice he so desperately needs.

Jay is not sure he can do it in either sense.

“Gentlemen, it is my understanding that any extra time we can buy our team to make ready our strategy would be to our advantage. I’m assuming Nix has some things he would like to accomplish and can use all the time in preparation?” Erin asks with a raised eyebrow.

She’s deliberately cryptic, and Jay knows it’s because she hasn’t had the time to bring Antonio up to date on the trial-by-combat plan.

Jay can’t think about what Nix needs extra time for—not if he plans to close his eyes in the next few hours. It’s a nightmare in the making.

Luckily, Antonio is distracted by his note-taking and by someone coming into his home office. Leo’s Mama-Frankie’s face soon fills the screen, far too close for the large computer monitor, and both Jay’s mates and Erin sit back, like distancing themselves will make her larger-than-life face shrink a tiny bit.

“Frankie cara mia , I am working. Say goodbye to our son and his boys, and then away with you, my love.”

“Hello, boys! Love you, Boo-Boo. See you on Friday for our date. Bye!” She blows a kiss and is gone.

“Bye, Mama!”

Leo blushes, clearly embarrassed by his mother—some things never change. Frankie is the epitome of warmth—a sweet, loving mother who’s sharp as a whip and never afraid to show she cares.

She’s the kind of mother Jay wishes he had.

“Does anyone have anything they’d like to talk about before we adjourn? No?” They all shake their heads except Antonio, but Erin cuts him off before he can start up again. Jay is grateful for the reprieve. “Then let’s adjourn. Sir, may I meet with you tomorrow to go over Henry’s suggestions and my concerns?”

“Alright, boys. No need for you to stick around for the rest. We will be in touch.”

“Thank you both for helping us. Let us know exactly how we should proceed. I will track down the forms, and we can get on that part right away.” Finn already has his hand on the mouse to disconnect when Erin nods with a smile and a wave.

“Goodnight, boys.”

When the screens are thankfully dark, Jay rubs a hand over his face, and his mates sit in silence, surely taking a moment, as he is, to think about the calls they’d made.

It’s been a fucking day, and tomorrow will surely bring more—a whirlwind so far, but no matter how weird things have gotten, he wouldn’t change a thing. He has Nix back, and he’s finally filled that aching place around his heart.

He takes a moment to rub his chest and thinks about if Nix is resting. The bond feels settled, and Jay hopes against hope, which means he has fallen into a peaceful sleep. Something he could really go for himself right now.

Jay remembers he still has to change his bed sheets from this morning, and then maybe he can convince Leo and Finn to cuddle him. Of all his mates, this combination of sleep partners seems to calm him the best, and he could use the grounding of physical affection to help turn off his brain so that maybe tomorrow he can be strong again for his mates.