Threads of Fate (Fated in the Stars #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight Nix

Nix

“I am not riding in the wheelchair, Jamie.” Nix did not want to be pushed out like a princess in a medical-grade parade when it was completely unnecessary. He is done with being sick. Finn had said he was all better and he felt good, so he will not be gently bullied into following the hospital’s dumb rules.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he feels the pajama pants (which they’d found for him in the laundry pile) sliding down. Grabbing them before they can slide over his butt, he almost stamps his foot.

“Nix, it’s hospital policy, and you don’t have any shoes yet. You want to go home, right?”

He does, but something about being in the chair has his skin crawling. Like he’s drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Jamie had said Dawson was in jail and that Nix was safe, but it sounds too good to be true; the more he thinks about leaving the safety of this room, the worse the feeling gets.

“No chair,” he says, thinking that causing a slight scene might just be worth it to avoid the chair. He lets go of the pants, puts his hands on his hips, and makes his poutiest, grumpiest face possible. There’s a coo , and he spins his head around to see Gideon looking at him like he’s the cutest kitten ever.

Seizing the opportunity, he changes his grumpy face to a pleading one, just to see Gideon’s eyes go wide and his jaw drops a little. Rowan cackles with glee. “Wow, Gid. Just. Wow. Already? He’s been awake half a day, and you are already—”

“You finish that sentence, Rowan Foster, and we will be revisiting our last lesson.”

Nix wonders what that lesson was because Rowan makes a big show of zipping his lips, nodding sincerely.

“Nix, what if Luca rides with you? Or I can carry you?” Gideon sounds like he’s bargaining with a contrary toddler, and fuck him for being right because riding with Luca seems like a good compromise. Even if it’s more of a spectacle, at least he won’t be alone in it.

“Okay. Just because you have such good ideas and Luca is excited already.” Luca is actually wiggling and making small clappy-hands.

“Yeah, I am. Yesss!” There’s a fist pump as Luca gets comfortable in the wheelchair, and making grabby hands at Nix once he’s settled.

Jamie sighs. “I don’t think this is what the hospital had in mind, you two. But I’m sure they’re just happy to see the back of us already.”

Nix settles onto Luca’s lap with a tiny wiggle, adjusting until he’s comfortable. The movement pulls a sharp inhale from Luca, his breath catching audibly.

“You okay, Luca? Wanna trade places?” Rowan teases, his tone light but mischievous.

“That’s not nice, Rowan,” Nix scolds, trying to look stern but failing to suppress the twitch of a smile. Gideon and Leo chuckle, and Jamie, always quick on the uptake, points at Rowan and mimics Nix’s words silently, lips forming a mischievous smile.

Behind them, Finn grips the wheelchair, ready to steer. He leans down, his voice soft, meant only for Luca and Nix to hear. “Be good, you two.” The quiet command sends a shiver through Nix that he can’t quite suppress.

Then, louder, Finn straightens before calling out, “Let’s go home, Rhodes Pack.”

Leo and Gideon have gone ahead of their little processional to get the vehicles and load the bags of stuff, so Finn takes a more sedate pace. Their elevator is empty and while they’re waiting, Nix leans into Luca’s embrace, tucking the blanket around their legs. Luca’s warmth seeps through, a steady comfort, his arms securely wrapped around Nix’s middle beneath the blanket. Every so often, Luca gives the tiniest squeeze, a subtle gesture that speaks louder than words; offering support and reminding Nix he’s not alone.

“Thanks for riding with me, Luca. It feels really good,” he says.

Finn coughs at Nix’s words. Rowan snorts and Jamie sighs, suddenly put-upon.

The man under him hums, and maybe he’s tired, as his voice sounds a little strained, but his words are happy enough. “Anything for you. This is better than riding by yourself, right?”

“Yes! I’d much rather ride in your lap than by myself,” Nix agrees, and Finn snorts again.

“You okay there, Dr. Merritt?” Rowan teases again.

“Yes, I am. Not as good as Luca, though, I’d wager.” The elevator has that sweet chocolate-y vanilla cookie smell he’d smelled earlier. Maybe it’s an air freshener? It’s a weird choice for a hospital, but he likes it, so he’s not complaining. Maybe Finn could find out where they got them.

“I am pretty lucky. First, a kiss, and now a ride. No wonder Rowan’s jealous,” Luca says with a smirk as they exit the elevator.

Nix blinks, knowing there’s some context he’s missing, but before he can piece it together, they reach the main entrance, and the world outside crashes in.

The noise hits first—a chaotic jumble of voices, footsteps, and distant commotion. Then the smells, an overwhelming barrage of scents layered on top of one another. It’s too much all at once, and the panic rises in his chest.

Maybe being in a coma for a week has made me super sensitive, he thinks, gritting his teeth. Ugh, that can quit anytime now. The overload twists into something worse, paranoia creeping in at the edges of his mind, amplifying everything.

Jamie said Dawson is in jail. He’s not hiding here in the lobby waiting to hurt Luca or Finn or Rowan. Jamie won’t let him. The noise seems to get louder, and it hurts his ears; there are so many voices. Did he hear someone call “Austin?”

“Nix! Look at me.” Finn has pushed the wheelchair over to the side near the revolving door. Nix can feel Jamie’s hot hand gripping the back of his neck, and he’s using the other hand to tilt his chin up. “There you are. Hello, baby. You’re safe.”

Nix smells pine and fruit and mocha, and together, it settles his fear to a low hum. “Luca is safe?” He turns slightly and accidentally elbows the man under him in the chest. Luca looks a bit freaked out, but he nods.

“Jay won’t let anything hurt us, Nix.” He says, squeezing him tight, Nix wants to crack open his chest and put Luca inside because Luca belongs to him. And holy shit. That’s weird.

Gideon is standing there, scanning the lobby like he’s checking for potential threats, and suddenly, Nix wants him. Someone might think Gideon is scary, but he’s exuding protection, and there’s something in Nix’s brain that wants that now. His black shirt is rolled up to his elbows and open at the throat, and his thick thighs are accentuated perfectly by his fitted slacks. Nix feels the need for something ignite in his belly.

“Gideon, up.” He lifts his arms like he’s seen Luca do all afternoon, and Gideon does not hesitate.

“Okay, Nixie. Up you go.” He feels a hand on his ass to assist, and Finn whispers Luca! Then he’s in Gideon’s arms like a koala with no thought for what the strangers might think. He buries his nose in Gideon’s neck and smells…nothing. That thing in the back of his mind does not like that at all. He lifts his head to look, and there’s a two-by-two-inch clear, square patch on Gideon’s neck. Lifting a hand, he tries to remove it as Gideon carries him outside to a big black SUV parked in front of the main entrance with the back seat door wide open.

He pulls it off just as Gideon goes to put him in the car, and he gets a sudden whiff of a summer thunderstorm. Hot, wet petrichor, and he wants it in his mouth— right now —so he bites down, not hard, but still licking and sucking hard to get the flavor in the back of his throat. He’s not thinking about anything except how good it tastes, how hot and hard Gideon’s chest feels against his. The hands on his thighs tighten, and Nix moans. Gideon tastes so good. He feels the burning in his belly growing until it’s pulsing in his cock.

He wants Gideon to make him come. Now.

“Jesus, fuck. Nix, baby. You gotta let Gideon go. You can’t do this here. Gideon, hang on.”

Jamie goes around the other side of the SUV and crawls in beside them. “Nix. Let Gideon go . ” But Nix doesn’t want to; he wants more of Gideon, not less. He growls at Jamie because Gideon is his, so he just sucks harder. Gideon shudders, suddenly tensing up and the car is suddenly full of the heady thunderstorm scent now, and it’s musky—the change is even more delicious.

Now all he wants is a kiss.

Removing his teeth, Nix tells him so, “Gideon, kiss.” He’s got a hold of Gideon’s bent head, and Nix lifts it so he can eat at his mouth. Nix leads with his tongue catching it on a sharp tooth and sucking down a mouthful of blood and saliva. He moans, trying to grind his hard dick against Gideon’s belly. Why won’t Gideon touch him? It hurts .

Gideon groans, and it’s followed by a ripping sound. Nix hopes it’s his stupid borrowed pants. Suddenly, there’s a shirt in front of his face. It smells like a forest; it’s good, too, but it’s not musky thunderstorms.

Still, it makes the haze in front of his mind clear. He’s harder than he can ever remember being. A few more deep breaths, and he can see Gideon’s face. He looks debauched. Bloody lips, eyes squeezed shut, and there are rivulets of sweat running down his face. The minute Nix lets go, Gideon breaks away, taking off at a dead run.

What did I do?

“Fuck. Jamie, what did I do? Did I just assault Gideon? What’s happening to me?” He knows he sounds hysterical, but he feels out of control. He would never do that, never, and yet he just did. How could he do to another person what Dawson had done to him? Take without asking?

He must have said all of that out loud because Jamie responds, “It’s okay,” as he rocks Nix gently from side to side. There’s a flutter in Nix’s chest—something he just knows is Jamie.

Jamie is still shirtless, save for a bandage high on his left trapezius and one on his pec, and Nix fights the ridiculous urge to lick all ov—No , you idiot. Haven’t you done enough already? He’s both relieved and saddened by the cool air flowing through the car. It clears away the thunderstorm scent, easing his tension, but his heart twinges at its absence.

“It’s not fucking okay! Did you see that? You had to pull me off of him.” He’s getting louder, drawing the attention of other people milling about waiting for their rides, or picking up patients. Rowan closes the door gently on his side with a tiny nod. Nix is horrified. They must be, too; Nix has assaulted their partner. Nix’s heart breaks a little to see Rowan, Luca, and Leo drive away. Do they hate him now?

Jamie closes the door on his side behind himself but opens the window a tiny bit.

For the first time in nine years, he’s alone in a car with Jamie Rhodes, and it’s not the same happy thing he’d enjoyed when they’d been “dating.” This time, he feels out of control, and he can’t be sure if Gideon were to get in the car right now, that he wouldn’t do the same thing all over again. He might be sick.

Jamie squeezes him tighter. There’s fresh air flowing through the window, and the longer they just sit, the less horny and crazy he feels.

“What the fuck is going on?” He can’t overlook the weird anymore. He’s not ready to look too closely at all of it, but by asking, he’s telling him he needs some answers. Now.

There’s a whiff of wood smoke, but the window carries it away. “You’re right. I’ve left it too long. But can we do it at home? It’s a long story and we are in the way, right here.” Several cars are waiting in the loading lane, and they are taking too long.

Jamie is waiting for him to answer, and Nix knows that if he said no, tell me now, Jamie would sit here in the back of this fancy-ass SUV until Nix was satisfied. Nix is relieved to know that hasn’t changed any.

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

“You stay here, okay? Why not put your seat back? It’s about twenty minutes, depending on traffic.” He reaches over and pulls Nix’s seat belt on with a shaking breath. He presses a button to recline Nix’s seat slightly, and as he passes by, he places a soft kiss on his lips.

It’s reassuring when Jay closes the door, and Nix watches him pull his t-shirt back on, rubbing a hand over his bandage. Then he’s in the front seat, and they’re on their way. Nix has to close his eyes it feels so strange; it’s been almost a decade since he’s been in a vehicle that wasn’t a bus or a train.

A low-key, horny urgency still simmers in his belly, but he takes a few deep breaths of the pine-scented air freshener. The crisp aroma does wonders for his discomfort, and he lets his mind wander.

If he tries to think back to a week ago, the memories blur. He can’t recall being at home after meeting Finn—his shoulder injured and his knees bloody. He’s smart enough to piece together that whatever Dawson did after that left him in the hospital, injuries severe enough to keep him unconscious for a week. But he doesn’t feel even the smallest twinge. How badly had he been hurt?

The thought sends a fresh wave of panic crashing over him. The realization that Dawson is still out there—even if it’s in prison—brings back all the terror he’s lived with every day for the past five years. It surges violently, and he bends over his knees, straining against the seat belt. For a moment, black spots dance behind his eyes, threatening to pull him under.

“Nix? Fuck. Should I pull over?”

“No, I’m okay. Just not used to being in the car.” Which is true, just not the truth. Jamie hesitates like he might call him on the omission. But he just speeds up a tiny bit.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on his knees to hide his face, hoping Jamie won’t push further. There are five deep gouges in the tan leather in the back of the seat in front of him. What the fuck? He thinks he remembers the sound of tearing when he’d attacked Gideon.

Did he do that?

And there it is, the real thing that has Nix really, really on the edge of a meltdown. So far, he’s let his mind skirt away from the really strange things that today has brought. Like he’s told Leo, he feels so safe—so good—for the first time in forever since he watched Jamie drive away nine years ago, and his life went up in flames.

Can he be blamed for wanting to just be happy, to just be safe, to just be loved?

He just wants to pretend it’s all normal. Make it his new normal. Jamie said that he loves them all, including Nix. He can feel that spot in his chest flutter again, and he’s desperate to let that be true, but after what he’d done to Gideon, he knows he can’t live in this self-prescribed delusion any longer. If Nix has learned anything in his time with his abuser, it’s that fantasies of happily-ever-after have never served him. It’s time for some reality and some answers.

They pull up to and then through a fifteen-foot-tall wrought-iron gate, and the long driveway reveals a stunning corner of heaven in the center of Nashville. It’s composed of several joined square modern structures on a few levels with long “wings” that reach out on opposite sides. It can’t be more than a few years old. There are so many large windows, and they reflect the late afternoon sun.

There are lots of mature trees and bushes, and many of them are just starting with their fall foliage. There’s even a large grassy area that runs alongside the long stone drive that leads up to a huge car garage, one of which is open, and Nix can see the fancy white car from before parked inside.

“You live here ?” He knows he sounds incredulous. Jamie’s family had had a pretty nice house in Florida, not that he’d been allowed inside, but it was nothing like this.

“Yeah. Grayson designed it. The inside, too, come to think of it. We like it. Wanna come see?” He looks so hopeful that even though he’s hella intimidated, he smiles and lets Jamie unbuckle him.

“Up we go, baby.” Jamie has turned his back and expects him to climb up for a piggyback ride.

“What? No, I can walk.”

“You’re not wearing shoes, and every time you walk too far, you lose your pants. Come on. Humor me.” He waggles his butt, forcing a giggle past Nix’s lips.

“Fine.”

Rowan opens the door when they’re almost there. Rowan has changed from his suit pants and dress shirt into a black tank top and black cargo pants. “Welcome home,” the bigger man purrs with a smirk.

Nix nearly swallows his tongue because Rowan Foster is so hot. So, so, so hot. Easily six-foot-five, with broad shoulders, large freckled tattooed biceps, and veiny forearms with a light dusting of reddish-blond hair, all on full display. Absolutely huge hands. He uses a long finger to wipe a bit of white from the corner of his mouth, and Nix glimpses his tongue. Nix wants to climb him like a tree.

Jamie passes Rowan in the corridor with a peck to his cheek as Nix nearly breaks his neck, trying to keep him in sight. When he can’t anymore, he turns slightly, glimpsing Rowan’s reflection in a mirror, arms raised in a silent “win!” position. Nix hides his face in the side of Jamie’s neck and giggles. Good to know that Rowan likes his attention as much as Nix likes him. But that smug expression will not do at all.

“Jamie. Stop. Put me down, please.” When his feet are on the warm wood, he drops the grip that he has on his pants and lets them fall to the floor. He picks them up, tossing them at Jamie before heading back the way they’d come. He follows his ears into a giant open-concept kitchen with floor-to-ceiling windows that go up two floors. Green plants hang everywhere, and there are even more sitting on shelves. Rowan is eating an ice cream cone, leaning on the counter beside a vase of sunshine-yellow roses and a bowl of lemons.

“Rowan, will you let me know when Gideon comes home, please? I need to apologize.”

Rowan’s eyes go wide. He looks past Nix to Jamie standing behind him. “Uh…yeah. He’s home already. Blew in here about five minutes before you.”

Nix tilts his head, and he can’t help but be skeptical. “He got here on foot before us?”

Jamie coughs, and when Nix looks at him, he’s rubbing the back of his neck. Nix recognizes the gesture as a sure sign that Jamie is about to lie his ass off even after all this time. “No. Jamie, just no. If whatever is about to come out of your mouth isn’t 100% the truth, then just stop.” His mouth snaps shut, and it’s a good thing, too, because Nix is done with being in the dark.

Rowan laughs and goes back to the ice cream cone. Vanilla. His favorite, if he remembers correctly; after all, he hasn’t had ice cream in five years. He slinks over, takes Rowan’s giant, oh god, long-fingered hand in his, and takes a long lick of the ice cream cone. While making eye contact. Rowan’s mouth drops open a tiny bit.

Turning on his heel, Nix calls, “Come along, James.”

He relishes his dramatic exit when he hears a whimpering, “Holy fuuuuuuck.”

Jamie laughs and follows him out, whispering, “Phoenix Rena, you are a menace.”

He’s got no idea where he’s headed after that exit, so turns toward the open-concept living room still visible from the kitchen. There’s a large L-shaped leather sectional and a big screen TV, bookshelves, and more of those incredible windows. The kitchen’s breakfast bar and large table are visible from every corner of the well-lit room. The open concept is beautiful and, oh, so welcoming. Grayson is incredibly talented for being able to create just a warm and inviting home on this scale.

Beyond the sliding glass doors, Nix can see an in-ground pool and a hot tub, both steaming a bit in the cooling afternoon air.

“Your pool is still open. Isn’t it too cold?” He doesn’t touch the glass, but he presses up as close as he can get.

“We like to keep it open for as long as we can. It’s heated. We’ll have to close it soon, though. But we can swim later if you’d like. Or use the hot tub?” He seems so eager that Nix has to hug him.

Wrapping his arms around his waist, he puts his head on Jamie’s chest, breathing him in. It’s so relaxing like his heart is beating in both Jamie’s chest and his own, in sync for the first time in so long. He feels like he can rest.

“Let’s sit, yeah? And talk.” The nerves are clear in Jamie’s voice, and the last time he was this nervous, he’d told Nix he was leaving for Nashville.

Jamie sighs, and Nix knows whatever it is will not be easy.

The sigh that follows is frustrated. “I’m going to talk, and you can ask me anything you want. I think it’s important for you to know that I would never lie to you. I kept a few things from you because I had to—it’s the law—but I always…”

“Jamie. Just give it to me. I promise I’ll believe you.”

Jamie takes his hands and looks into his eyes; Nix has never seen him so serious.

“I’m not Human. I’m Were.”

Nix thinks he’s heard him wrong. “You’re where?”

“No, I’m–we’re Were. All of us. Fuck, this is hard. How do others do this? Fuck.” Jamie jumps up and starts pacing.

His brain makes the sudden connection. “So, you’re not human, and you’re what? A Werewolf?” Nix is sure his face speaks of his skepticism. “Like you were attacked…like in the movies?”

“No, most of us are born. Wait—you’re taking this surprisingly well. Are you humoring me? Because if you are, that’s cool. Cool. Better than running away screaming.”

“I’m not wearing pants, Jamie. Where could I go?” Nix tries to lighten the mood because he’s maybe a little worried that the love of his life has lost his mind. “I’m trying; I know you, and I know you wouldn’t hurt me with a lie, even after all this time. And I’m here. So, the least I can do is let you convince me.” He curls his feet up under his bare butt and pulls a green blanket from the back of the couch over his legs.

Jamie is standing there, gaping. But Nix has long since learned that drama gets him nowhere good.

“Okay, where should I start?” He seems less worried now and a bit more eager.

“Can I ask some questions? Maybe that will help?”

“Oh, fuck, would you? Shit. Okay.” He sits beside Nix, and he puts a corner of the blanket over his knees. Nix wiggles his toes under his thigh.

Where to start? “Um…you said you’re Were. As in Werewolf. Can you turn into a wolf?”

Jamie chuckles. “Not anymore. But the history books say that in the beginning, the Goddess created the first Weres in the image of her beloved wolves. We still retain some of the physical characteristics and instincts, though. Wanna see?”

Jamie opens his mouth, and two long fangs descend from his upper and lower lips. They are long and pointy. “Holy shit. Holy shit. You’re not crazy, Jamie! Your teeth–fangs—are so cool? Holy shit. Have you always had these?”

Nix is up on his knees now, so he can lean in to better get a closer look at his fangs. Jamie shows him his long claws, too. “Fuck, that’s so cool! What else can you do? Do you have a tail?”

A guffaw from the kitchen is quickly followed by a snort from somewhere upstairs to the right.

“Hey, you lurkers. Get in here. Don’t make Jamie do your dirty work.” It’s not long before Leo, Rowan, and Finn enter the room from various locations.

“Sorry, Nix. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Rowan says sheepishly, looking genuinely apologetic.

Finn comes to sit on Nix’s other side, urging him off his knees and under the blanket. “Oops. Sorry for the flash.” Nix giggles at Finn’s blush. Finn boops him in the nose in retaliation.

“No need to apologize, Nixie.” Leo winks.

“Okay, let me get through the rest of it before it’s tomorrow already. I promised you some answers, yeah?”

Jamie tells him about their extra-sensitive senses, and when he gets to scent, Nix has to stop him. “So not only can you smell things more easily,” he says, pointing to his nose. “You also have your own special scent, and that lets other Weres know who you are and sometimes how you feel.” At their nod, Nix looks at each of them, head tilted.

“Can humans smell it?” All at once, Nix knows the answer before he even hears Jamie say the word, and that single negative hits Nix like nothing else Jamie has shared so far. He’s on his feet because the room is filled with pine, cinnamon, spicy rum, and black currant. He can smell them; and now that he thinks of it, he could smell it in the hospital room, in the lobby, and the car on the way home.

“Jamie. Finn. Wha—what did you do to me?” He smells burnt cookies and his stomach rebels. He skirts the large coffee table to face them on the couch.

Jamie is frozen in place. “Let me explain—.” How had it suddenly gone so wrong?

“Fuck, Jamie. What happened to me? I’m not human anymore?” He can feel his fangs dropping, and he whimpers.

“Nix. Look at me, please.” Finn. He’d told him he was better . He didn’t know that this was what he meant.

“You lied to me, Finn. You told me I was better. Is this what you meant? That I was human, and I wasn’t good enough before? So now I’m better ?”

Finn looks sick, and he’s shaking his head vehemently. “No! Of course not. Fuck. Nix. You were dying. We had to. If we hadn’t, you would have died. We couldn’t let you die.”

Nix drops to the floor and feels the soft carpet under his knees. He had been dying. “Dawson?” Nix has no problem believing that Dawson had hurt him so badly he’d been on death’s doorstep.

Finn crouches beside him, close but not touching. “You were brought into our ER by a Were bus driver. You’d been…hurt. I was working, but I recognized you from the night before. I was…upset…knowing how I felt about you already.”

“How you felt?” What could he even mean? They’d met for a single hour that one time.

“Yes, I knew you were…special to me. I felt it the first night.” And couldn’t Nix say the same? He’d been enchanted with the handsome doctor in his glasses and lab coat; handsome and so hot. He’d been so enamored he’d taken Finn’s sweater, for fuck’s sake.

“There’s more to that, more you’re not saying?”

Finn glances at Jamie, who rubs his face with a shaking hand. “Yes, and I promise we’ll tell you everything,” he begs, “just one big thing at a time.”

“You keep saying that, but no more. I’m tired of not understanding what’s happening to me. I was…hurt? And I was going to d-die. How did I end up a Were?”

“After we got you into surgery, we could tell that your injuries were so severe that you didn’t have long.” Finn’s voice cracks.

“What happened to me?” He looks from face to face. Jamie looks haunted, and Rowan is decidedly green. Finn smells like rotten berries.

“You said you trusted that Jay wouldn’t lie to you. Can you trust me that it was enough that this was the only way? For now?” If the Dr. Merritt he’d met that night was this shaken up, Nix wasn’t sure he’d ever want to know the specifics.

“Is this why I’m not…” scarred. Why he’s not covered in burn marks or bite marks or cuts? He doesn’t say it.

Leo speaks for the first time. “When a human is turned, the venom acts to reset the human’s— our genetic code. It makes changes, but it also acts like a…what did Riordan call it?”

Jamie grimaces. “Factory reset. It fixes human illnesses and injuries during the process. We call it a transition.”

“A transition? Is it like in the movies? Are Weres going around biting random people?” Hysteria trickling into his voice causes the others to shift uncomfortably. Nix wants to be grateful, but he hates feeling like this monumental change to his very cells is entirely out of control. Hatred for Dawson burns in his belly, making his teeth ache.

He’s not stupid enough to think that he was in any condition to be consulted, and he can see that Jamie feels shame.

“Fuck, Nix. No. Were laws are really strict. We had to get special approval from the courts. We–would never do this unless I thought it was the only way to save you. I wanted you to have the chance to hate me, at the very least.”

Put like that, what can he say? He is alive and he can never hate Jamie; he’d spent too long loving and missing him. “How did you find me? How did Finn know I was your Nix?”

Jamie pulls his wallet out of the back pocket of his black pants and fishes something from the small pocket. Two things: a strip of three photos, faded but oh so familiar, and…Nix’s treasure—the fourth photo, this time stained with blood. His blood. He can still smell the iron tang of it.

He hands Nix both pieces, so he can fit them together again, like pieces of a puzzle finally together after so many years. Just seeing them fit like that brings painful tears to his eyes, and Nix smells that burnt cookie smell again…Wait. “Is that me? I smell like fucking burnt cookies?”

Rowan gives a small smirk. “Nix, you don’t always smell like burnt cookies. You smell like vanilla sugar—like the best vanilla confection Gideon has ever baked. It might be the best thing I’ve ever smelled.” He’s so sincere, dimples appearing on both sides of his face, that Nix thinks, for a moment, he’ll have to be extra wary of the overly sincere Rowan in the future.

“You’ve always smelled like vanilla to me, even when we were kids. Now it’s just stronger since I’ve presented, and you’re Were. Now it’s just like Ro says, you smell…” Jamie’s ears are red.

“Good enough to eat.” Leo’s blushing and Nix is too, and the room now smells like snickerdoodles. It’s sensory whiplash.

Now that he knows about them, his enhanced senses are feeding him information at record speed: the scent of the roses in the kitchen, the fuzzy pile of the cream throw rug under the large coffee table, and the ticking of the lights overhead. It’s suddenly all too much.

“This is going to take some time to get used to, okay? I’m not saying I’m mad about this—what did you call it? The transition. But I don’t like not knowing about who or what I’m capable of like this. What if I hurt someone? I don’t know anything about what I am. Who you are.”

He’s still holding the photos and it hits him how far he’s come and how far he still has to go. “Fuck, I’m tired.” From one minute to the next, he feels like he wants to lie down. He’s got too many questions and not enough answers, and his body has had enough.

“Is there anything you want to ask right now? Then you can take a nap, we can swim and eat later, then we can answer some more questions?”

Finn goes to the bookshelf and finds a dusty blue hardcover book. “Here, this is a common Were history book. I’ve had it since I was in middle school. Never knew why I hung on to it. Guess now I know.” He holds it out with both hands and a tentative smile. “You don’t have to read it, of course; we’ll answer any questions you have to the best of our abilities. But just in case?”

Nix accepts the book with both hands and promptly decides he’s had enough of the vertical life. He suddenly lies down right where he’s sitting on the floor, head in his arms, before he hears someone scramble to pick him up. He smells Christmas. Rowan . It’s nice.

“One more thing, and then I want a bed and quiet. Where is Grayson?” He’s so tired. There’s a pause, and Rowan grips him harder to his chest.

“Here. I’m right here.”