Chapter 25
Rowan
Shades of red flashed past Rowan’s eyes, vivid flames of fury as he regarded his brother and the scene he’d walked in on.
The only thing keeping him from torching the place was the quiet devastation that threatened to buckle his knees.
Nothing had ever hurt so much.
He felt stupid for bringing that stupid coffee cup that he’d driven four hours for after he’d spent another hour tracking down where Milo could even be, only to find him wrapped in his brother’s arms, eyes shut tight.
Rowan rocked as a body slammed into his, limbs wrapping around him. Rowan hugged back on instinct, something inside him telling him that it was precious and needed to be guarded despite the despair.
When he finally tore his eyes away from Ruben’s strained face and looked down, Milo came into focus. Rowan’s first glimpse of him after days apart.
Milo was pulling at him like he was trying to crawl inside him, untucking his clothes and digging claws into skin. “There you are. You’re my Rowan.”
He said it like it made all the sense in the world, and Rowan’s heart answered back that it did.
But his brain couldn’t stop seeing the image of Milo in another man’s arms. His brother’s arms. “Milo,” he croaked out. He wasn’t even embarrassed by how wrecked and vulnerable he sounded. “What was going on here?”
“I was looking for you. You went away,” Milo mumbled into his chest, burying his nose there. His claws flexed against his back and Rowan wished they’d dig in harder to ground him. To mark him so people would know.
“Rowan, it wasn’t what you think—” Ruben said.
Rowan snarled in his direction, smoke billowing out of his nose and sparks catching in the air, drifting down as embers. “Stop talking.”
“No, no, no, you tell me to stop talking, not him. Rowan, tell me to stop talking. Tell me to be quiet. Tell me there’s something wrong with me,” Milo rambled, scratching at his back and nosing his neck with quick puffs of air.
Rowan frowned and looked down at him. Milo sounded dazed and hazy, but at the same time Rowan could feel his heart beating through his chest like he was about to have a heart attack.
Rowan cradled the back of his skull and tried to pull him away to look at him.
“Milo, I think there really is something wrong with you.”
Milo refused to be moved, holding on with all his strength and sighing in delight. “You sound right. I missed the way you sound.”
Rowan’s elation was tempered by how worried he was.
He cupped Milo’s face in his hands and immediately noticed that his slitted pupils were dilated in a way he’d never seen before.
There were dark rings of purple around his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days, and he was pale and sweating, his hair damp and curling at his temples.
“Milo, are you okay?”
“We need to leave,” Milo told him seriously.
“What? Why?”
“We need to leave. Together. Not alone. You aren’t allowed to go places alone ever again. We need to go back to your apartment.” Milo was urgent, practically climbing him.
“Slow down, Mi. Breathe.”
The nickname slipped out without thinking and Milo finally stopped moving, frantic gaze settling on his, and he caught his breath. “You didn’t ask me to take care of your plants,” he finally said, unexpected and blunt. “Did you not think I could do it?”
The question gutted Rowan.
He had no clue what Milo had taken or what was going on. All he knew was that he didn’t want Milo to be upset ever.
“I’d trust you with them in a heartbeat. I didn’t think you would want to,” Rowan admitted shyly.
“Who did you get to do it instead?” Milo demanded, pouting before his eyes flashed from blue to silver. “That waitress?!”
He looked ready to find the poor woman and eviscerate her. Rowan held on to him tightly.
“No, my sister said she would.”
Milo gnashed his teeth just before he bent down and bit him unexpectedly, right in the same spot he had when they’d first met.
Rowan hissed, the sting zinging up his arm, but didn’t pull away. In fact, it made his stomach swoop and his dick hard. It felt possessive. Like ownership. Like Milo was trying to stake his claim.
“Well, fuck,” Ruben said, somewhere in the distant background.
Rowan growled again and turned them until Milo’s back was against the wall and he was in front of him where Ruben couldn’t see. Milo’s teeth never left his arm.
Rowan thumbed at his straining jaw. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he rumbled.
Milo let out a small, frustrated whimper, his teeth digging deeper as if to make sure he couldn’t.
Rowan held still through it, keeping him eclipsed in his shadow until the pressure eased up and an imprint was all that was left.
Milo panted with his mouth open, saliva smeared around his lips and chin. “I’m going to slash your tires.”
“So I can’t leave?” Rowan guessed.
Milo nodded, head lolling on his shoulders.
Rowan got his arms around him before he fell over. He wobbled, hands migrating around from Rowan’s back to his front. Dangerous territory.
Rowan captured one from over his shirt, flattening it against his thundering heart. “Do you need a doctor?”
“He needs a spare brain cell so he can give it to you,” Ruben called.
Rowan turned his head and blew out an arc of flame. “LEAVE!”
“This is my dressing room, you unhinged baby!” Ruben yelled back. “Can you get your head out of your ass and put two and two together about your boyfriend here before the fire department needs to be called?!”
“What are you even talking about?”
“HE’S YOUR MATE, YOU IDIOT!”
The door burst open in more than Rowan’s head, opening the floodgates as people streamed inside.
Rowan vaguely recognized his family and Milo’s hoard and friend in his peripheral vision as he turned to face Milo.
It was like he was seeing him through a whole new lens.
A kaleidoscope had opened up before him, the facets of Milo making up every fractured, beautiful color and swirling together.
His mate.
“Milo,” someone called out, approaching.
“Don’t—” Ruben said, but it was too late.
A hand reached toward Milo and Rowan’s dragon came roaring. His wings burst from his back, violent and red as they covered Milo and caged him between the wall and his body. He hunched around him, creating a cave that shielded him from the outside world.
“Don’t touch either of them,” Rowan heard someone say, acutely aware of everyone around them.
The dragon counted. The heartbeats, the voices, the threats. He noted each one. Any one of them could get a dumb idea and reach for his mate again. Any one of them could try to take Milo away, and he wouldn’t allow that.
He couldn’t.
Because the world he’d barely belonged to before now finally felt like his. Like things were slotting together, empty spaces filled and dark corners lit. It felt like coming home.
And suddenly he could think of nothing but taking his mate to his nest and sequestering them from everyone and everything else.
He turned his head to the side, his eyes flashing warnings at everyone. Smoke was filling the air. Smoke he was letting out as a threat. As a clear claim over the man wrapped in his arms.
“Move!” he growled at everyone.
“Milo…” someone called, and Rowan spat a tiny ball of fire at the man he recognized as his mate’s friend.
He saw Ruben approach the man and place a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head gently. Ray turned to look at him, poised to argue, but Ruben pulled him out of the way.
Like he knew. Like he saw it coming.
And he probably did.
Rowan’s wings tensed. He pulled Milo tighter into his arms and charged toward a large window.
Someone jumped to open it, but it was too late.
Rowan curled around Milo and with a final roar of warning for nobody to follow them, he burst through the glass and took to the sky.
Carrying them to their nest.
Notes:
Did anyone bet on the mate thing?
Did you win?