Gideon’s sitting on the end of the couch, and Rowan notices he’s wearing the new apron he’d received from Leo as a New Year’s gift:I Make GordonRamsay Look Like An Angel.It’s an artist’s rendering of a naked cherubic angel with Gordon Ramsay’s face. It’s hilarious for several reasons, but mostly because it’s ironic in every way but one.
Gideoniskind and loving.
Rowan has said (and done) a lot of nice things to Gideon over the past two-plus years, but neither of them wants to deal with him acknowledging them out loud. Instead, he pushes Gideon backward off the arm of the couch onto the cushions so he can lie on top of him, with his head on his chest and his feet hanging awkwardly off the side.
Without a second of hesitation, Gideon hugs him tight and runs a hand through his hair. He should probably be upstairs with Nix, but he needs Gideon to help him first. Help him be calm, and remind him that he can do this thing.
The front door beeps, and Grayson’s perfumey fragrance fills the space, followed by Jay’s smoky pine. Rowan would normally try to avoid the teasing he knows is coming and dry hump Gideon for comedic impact (and pleasure) before sliding away, but instead, he just lies there while Gideon hums an old Frank Sinatra song in his ear.
“You okay, Ro?” Jay asks.
“Why is everyone asking me that?” he gripes, even though heknowswhy. He feels a surge of love when not one of them comments about his position or his whiny tone.
“How is he?” Grayson asks Gideon.
He means his soulmate, but Rowan isn’t surprised when Gideon says, “Rowan is fine.”
Jay snorts, and Rowan climbs off Gideon to pull him into a sitting position. “Why are you down here, Gideon?”
Gideon runs a hand over his face. “He only wants Luca and Finn right now.”
His Wolf doesn’t like the idea one bit, so Rowan stands up so he can lean into Jay, and maybe convince him to give up his t-shirt. The Wolf thinks they need to see Nix covered in their alpha’s scent…for, you know…reasons. Not at all to do with reassurance.No, siree.
“Why wouldn’t he want to see us? Gimme your shirt.”
Jay doesn’t hesitate to give Rowan his shirt, pulling it up over his head with one hand. “I don’t know, baby. But surely he doesn’t mean the two of you.” Jay nods to Grayson and Rowan.
Gideon disappears down the hall and returns with a replacement t-shirt for Jay. It’s white, and not at all what Jay was expecting, given his penchant for fifty shades of black. “All I know is what Luca said. Where is Leo?”
Sitting heavily on the couch, Grayson pulls his shoulder-length hair up into a knot on the top of his head. “On his way. I…uh…got a bit ahead of him and then hitched that ride with Artem. He had to get an Uber.”
That makes no sense to Rowan, given they went together to the Guild, but he’s distracted when a sharp pain stabs through his belly and he doubles over to puke on Gideon’s very nice rug.Yes, it’s Gideon’s rug. Everything in this house is Gideon’s, including them.
Grayson moans and curls into a ball on his side on the couch. “Ow. Fuck.” He raises his hand to cover his face, stopping just in time, considering there are sparks flickering at the end of his fingertips. “Shit.”
He hadn’t noticed, but Gideon was forcing Jay into the room’s only chair and his head between his knees. Even Gideon looks a bit pale, but he manages to keep his feet.
Grayson sits up again as the wave passes. “Nix has been holding down the bonds all day. And The Plain, too. Whatever that was, it feels like shit. Holy fuck.”
Rowan grimaces, letting a whine escape him because he knows whatthatis. Knows it in his bones and muscles and every cell of his body.Thatis labor. “He’s trying to hold back the bonds because he doesn’t want to hurt us.”
There are unanimous expressions of shock and then horror. Because they know they’re not getting a fraction of what Nix is going through on his own, and that he’s still worried about hurtingthemmakes Rowan sick. Literally. He doesn’t even try to get over the old mess before he adds to it. It’s instantaneous, and matches Jay’s groan and Grayson’s gasp.
The Wolf tries to get him to shift, to dull their “human” emotions so itdoesn’t hurt so much, but Rowan thinks this is something he should feel in its purest, most “human” form. Nix is, after all.
The security door beeps, and it’s followed by the sound of Leo speaking in low tones on the phone. “I don’t have any control over it hurting him, Mom.” He pauses and comes around the corner, gets a whiff of Rowan’s puke, which no one (not going to be him, if he can help it) has begun to clean up, and he wrinkles his handsome nose. “Shit–er–sorry, Mom. I gotta go. I’m home. No, just—no, don’t come over he—yeah, okay, love you too, bye.”
He scans the room. Rowan tries to see what’s put that alarmed look on his face.
He clocks Jay looking gray, pale, sweaty, and clutching his chest, Gideon’s wild hair and fangs poking into his lower lip, and Grayson glowing with a subtle pink light, hair slipped free of his top-knot to swirl in a non-existent breeze.
It seems wise to avoid acknowledging his own stinky mess entirely.
Yeah, okay, so they all look a little worse for wear.
Leo Costas has always been the smartest one in the room. He moves slowly and puts his hands out in a gentling manner. And for the third time in thirty minutes, Rowan is being asked, “Are you okay? What the fuck happened?”
Gideon shakes it off and rolls his eyes. “Of course we’re fine. Help me move this couch, Leo. We’ll send the rug out to be cleaned next week. Are any of you hungry?”
