Eternal Light “Claim Its Due” Alternate POV
His alpha is upset that they woke to find Nix had taken Gideon to his parents’ house and left a note.
It was obvious to everyone in the room that Jay had thought he’d be asked to go—that when Nix was ready to go inside, he’d be the one holding his hand. The shock on his face had hurt. Not just hurt—punched something tender in Rowan’s chest, he didn’t want to talk about.
Clearwater was their place. It carried a fuckton of baggage neither of them had sorted through, let alone unpacked. And yeah, it made sense that Jay would want to be there—where he could help Nix do the heavy lifting.
Grayson had seemed only slightly less pissed.
Growly and glowing, pacing with Leo’s phone in one hand and his hair swirling like it had a direct link to his emotions.
Magic had added a whole extra layer of hotness to their normally Zen mate, which only made pissing him off unbelievably satisfying in oh-so-many-exciting ways.
But it had only taken his deep I’m fucking serious, Rowan growl and sparks snapping at his fingertips for Leo to step in and push Rowan toward the couch. He’d muttered about setting the house on fire, and that Nix would not have a place to come back to if they didn’t quit “their fucking shit.”
Even Finn had seemed disappointed at being left out—entrenching himself beside Rowan on the couch, tired eyes on his own phone, and that white sweater pulled up over his nose.
While their even-keeled betas managed to roll with Nix’s choices, everyone else wanted to run interference—for Nix, and for this hard thing.
But not Rowan. No siree.
This trip to the house was going to be hard with a capital H, and while Rowan would’ve accompanied his pregnant mate to his empty childhood home to face the memories of his dead parents if he’d been asked—he sure as fuck wasn’t going to feel bad about not being chosen.
Seeing Nix hurting with his own eyes—instead of just feeling the occasional twinge in his belly—sounded like the worst idea ever.
So he’s lying here watching old cartoons on the TV, occasionally slipping his hand into his pocket to feel those silky red boxers Nix had worn from the first safe house. No one had to know. Fuck, he didn’t even like to think too hard about why they made him feel better.
Finn breathes deeply again through his white sweater “mask,” and Rowan resists the urge to pull the tiny boxers out of his pocket to do the same.
Behind him, the oven door closes, and a second cookie sheet slams onto the counter, followed by the tearing of parchment paper.
Rowan is thinking about trying to say something not entirely ridiculous or stupid to comfort his alpha—when Finn does it for him, leaving his cell phone unattended on the coffee table.
How fortuitous.
Now, Rowan has not been awarded a phone of his own—and aside from the fact that it has Nix and the babies’ biometrics on it, he doesn’t complain. Anyone he’d need to call or text is right under his very sharp nose almost every minute of every day. Just the way he likes it (don’t tell anyone).
Leo normally has one when Grayson isn’t being a fuckable idiot. Jay’s is on the counter, no doubt covered in tears and bacon grease. Gideon has the fourth—two blocks away.
No one thought to ask if Rowan needed a phone to watch Nix. To help ease his wolf. And fucking no one lets their phone out of their sight for longer than it takes to blink.
Apparently, a sad alpha is reason enough for Finn—the worst culprit for phone obsession—to forget all about it.
You snooze, you lose!
Shifting on the sectional, Rowan peeks over the back of the sofa, where he can see Leo and Grayson talking on the lanai—feet dipped in the big pool through the sliding glass doors.
Luca is lying on a lounger, bare-assed, tanning his juicy butt, which has a ridiculous amount of white-cast sunscreen on it.
Smart, as anyone who gets as many spankings as Luca would not want a sunburn on his ass.
He could go out there and offer to rub the lotion in…maybe rub one out while he’s at it—but Rowan’s had enough of the pool to last at least another week. He can still smell chlorine embedded in his hair.
In the kitchen, Jay is crying into Finn’s shoulder, raw bacon in one hand and the back of Finn’s sweater in the other. He’ll have to wash that thing fifty times to get the smell out—if the large, greasy handprint is anything to go by.
He’s thinking about grabbing the phone just to check on Nix’s yellow lights when his bond with Nix blinks off, then immediately on again.
Rowan wonders what made Nix think his emotions might be too much for them… and the urge to find out is almost unbearable.
Sneaking out the front door and following his gut to the Rena’s house is out of the question. A pissed-off Nix is not nearly as fun as a pissed-off Grayson.
The only thing stopping him is Jay’s uptick in sniffling, and that his alpha is being convinced not to do the same.
Finn rarely tries to be persuasive. He relies solely on logic and common sense to get everyone except Luca to listen (Not Rowan, though. He can be logical). Right now, though, he’s punctuating his hard words with kisses to Jay’s cheeks and throat.
“We have to respect his decision.” Kiss. “I know it’s difficult, but he’s asked Gideon to help him through it.” Kiss. “I think it’s because they have this in common.”
Jay nods, rubbing his snotty nose on Finn’s shoulder. Ew.
There’s a loud splash outside as Luca, naked, cannonballs off the diving board. Gray and Leo are stripping off on the pool deck, ready to join him to pass the time while they wait, and Rowan pauses mid-reach for the phone to watch.
Sigh. So many muscles—big and bulky, long and lean—and so much gorgeous cock. Who could blame him for reconsidering his moratorium on chlorine-infested waters?
But this opportunity to check on Nix is just too good to pass up.
With renewed focus, Rowan hums the Mission Impossible theme song under his breath as he rolls stealthily to the floor between the coffee table and the couch, on his belly. He snags the phone on his way down, army crawling on his elbows and toes toward the back hallway.
He doesn’t look back, but he can hear Finn and Jay making out against the counter, and the loud laughter from the pool, followed by Luca’s squeals.
The Goddess must be with him, because no one stops him. No one comes up for air, and he’s able to close the laundry room door and sit, pressed up against the now-silent dryer.
A huge grin makes his dimples pop, so hard his cheeks hurt. Fuck yeah, he is a super spy in the making. Better than Lauren, maybe. He doesn’t acknowledge that he’s had to borrow the phone in the first place.
Rowan needs to check on his omega, and he needs to do it now.
He finds Gideon’s number in the phone—listed under “Mom”—and, chuckling quietly to himself, listens to it ring.
“Hello?” Nix answers, his deep voice sending tingles down Rowan’s spine from two blocks over.
“Nix?” he whispers faintly. He can’t hear anything from the areas of the house now, but he doesn’t want to alert anyone he’s hiding-not-hiding.
“Ro? Why are you whispering?”
There’s a thump from down the hall. Maybe the sliding glass door closing, or Jay slamming another sad cookie sheet of tear-covered bacon on the counter.
“What? No. I’m not whispering,” he whispers. “But if you could keep your voice down?”
“Are you hiding from Jamie? Did you steal a phone so you could call me?”
Steal? No. Borrow? Maybe.
“Steal is a strong word.”
“Rowan.” It sounds disapproving, and his wolf doesn’t like that at all.
“Well. The babies are hungry, right? And then you went and turned the bond off for a minute, and I was okay—”
A door slams nearby. He can’t help the high-pitched “Eep” he lets out before covering his mouth with his hand. Heart pounding, he pauses, sighing in relief when the shower in the next room turns on. When no other noise follows, he starts up again, this time even quieter than before.
“Where was I? Oh yeah. I was—am okay, but Grayson is growly and glowy and now I have Finn’s phone with the app on it and—”
The laundry room door flies open, hitting the wall so hard it bounces off.
Rowan has two seconds to brace himself before Grayson has him pinned to the floor, knees on his shoulders, ass on his chest.
“Ooof, ow! No! It’s my turrrrr—”
Bucking up, he tries to throw Grayson off, but he will not be moved. Unseen hands hold his legs in an unbreakable grip, causing the phone to fly from his hand and skitter across the floor.
Rowan is mesmerized. He’d like to blame the pure magic flowing in waves from Grayson’s every pore—but it’s not just that.
With his long black hair swirling around his head and his eyes as dark as night, Grayson looks otherworldly.
Unleashed.
When he leans forward, his red lips part on his long fangs—a single sharp point dragging across Rowan’s earlobe. His hot tongue swirls in Rowan’s sensitive ear before he bites along the top of the cartilage with a deep hum.
All the blood in Rowan’s body rushes to his cock, leaving him lightheaded and aching.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Rowan Foster,” he growls, tongue licking into the sensitive canal again. His breath is cool when he whispers, “It’s not your turn to watch Nix, but Finnie says I can make you sorry. Get my mind off it. What do you think?”
Shit. Nix’s voice is calling for him over the line. “Rowan?”
He tries to buck Grayson off, fingers twitching at his sides toward the phone.
“Nuh-uh. That call’s for me, baby.”
Struggling against the bands of air holding his head immobile, he snaps his teeth. “Fuck you, Grayson.”
The words are quieter than any he’s spoken today. He wouldn’t want his omega to think he couldn’t best his enigma mate.
“Hmm. I don’t think so.” Grayson bites his lip and uses his thumb to pull down Rowan’s lower lip. “Say no, now—and mean it.”