“Le sigh. I shall have to be patient. They’re here, by the way—our reinforcements.”
He’d figured that’s what had Jay still on the front stoop. But also:fucking finally.
The last hour had shaved at least three years off Leo’s perfect life.
Everyone but Gideon and Jay had been outside. Leo and Nix had been throwing the Frisbee with Tsuki and Rowan-wolfwhen Nix had doubled over, growling like he was going to rip someone’s heart out.
Before Leo could process what was happening, he’d been halfway up the back wall of the compound with Rowan in hot pursuit. Shifting, he’d shouted for Leo to stay with the kids, barely managing to tackle Nix to the ground.
Their omega had come up swinging, determined to get to Grayson even if it meant running through the streets, all fanged-out, and eyes glowing blue. It had taken Jay, lying full-body on Nix’s back and biting the nape of his neck, to calm him down.
The following thirty minutes had been a chaotic mess. Only Leo and Luca seemed to be able to form complete sentences until Nix promised he wouldn’t try to find Grayson on his own—but only if Gideon were to fetch him from the Guild immediately. Someone was messing with their soulmate bond, and it felt like they were peeling their soul like a potato, a sliver at a time.
Jay had tried to negotiate around the demand. He felt that he might be a better (read: calmer) choice to “break Grayson out,” and Leo had agreed wholeheartedly. But Nix had been adamant—it had to be him or Gideon. He wouldn’t say why, or couldn’t put into words the feeling of dread, but if Nix had afeeling,then they listened.
No one ever talks about Nix’s gifts, but they all remember seeing him in Florida on the platform—lit up in an almost blinding glow of the Goddess’s silvery white light. So if Nix said he had a feeling that this retrieval might need Gideon’s particular brand of skills, then…well…Gideon went.
Now, when the front door slams, the scent of petrichor reaches Leo before Gideon even turns the corner. Perhaps it’s that he’d had to break some heads at the Guild, or more than likely, hehadn’thad the pleasure.
Or it could be that he had heard about the ordered food. He’s made no secret (uncharacteristically transparent) that hewanted to impress their guests and return the care they’d received from Nimue and Ignatius in Clearwater.
He takes one look at Skye’s empty plate, the dirty baking sheet, and his scowl deepens. “Tell me those aren’t store-bought french fries.” He sniffs the air with a suspicious frown. “And store-bought chicken fingers?”
Finn smirks from the couch, one hand curved protectively around Rosie’s little body as she snores against his chest. “What’s the right answer here?” he asks, like he doesn’t know damn well he’s throwing Leo under the bus.
Before Leo can answer, or even glare properly, Rowan’s voice cuts through the kitchen.
“Nix, catch!”
A pair of leggings sails through the air as Rowan yanks a clean shirt over his head. Nix’s hand flashes up, snatching the pants before they can land in the sink or splatter onto a pan still crusted with breakfast.
“Thanks, Ro.”
Gideon audibly grits his teeth before carefully removing his “good” pink ruffled apron and hanging it with deliberate care in the pantry cupboard. It’s the one he wears for guests, and it is the exact shade of his ears when they tell him he’s pretty. Leo won’t admit to buying it for exactly that reason, for fear Gideon would never wear it again.
The sound of the pantry door clicking shut barely fades before Grayson steps out of the powder room. His dark hair is damp like he’s just splashed his face. His skin looks leeched of color, and the shadows beneath his eyes aren’t the kind that come from a single bad night.
The sight makes something low and uneasy coil in Leo’s stomach. “You okay, Gray?”
Grayson nods, a little too fast. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just anxious to see what the others think about what’s going on with thekids.” His voice has that forced tone that says he’s not okay at all, but he bends to slip Rosie gently from her bouncer, nuzzling under her ear. He kisses the crown of Mari’s head, then turns to Skye with a fist raised for a bump. “Good dinner, little man?”
Skye nods, solemn as always, but points at Leo like he’s giving credit where it’s due.
Grayson’s eyes narrow with mock suspicion. “Leo made dinner? Are those fries from abag? Ooooooooh. You’re in trouuuuuble.”
“Shut it,” Leo says, grinning. “Like you could do any better.”
“Probably not,” Grayson admits, eyes crinkling, “butI knowbetter. I’d at least have bought—”
The front door beeps, loud and cheerful, slicing through the moment.
Like Von Trapp kids at roll call, the entire family scatters and scrambles, rushing to meet their guests before anyone catches the tail end of their kitchen bickering.
Leo lifts Skye to the floor, the little boy offering his hand like a tiny diplomat, and together they hustle toward the living room. They manage to gather in a jumbled knot, just in time for Jay to lead their visitors in.
“Welcome to our den. You remember my pack?” Jay’s voice is smooth, formal, with just a touch of genuine fondness.
“Thank you for welcoming us to your home, Alpha Rhodes,” Ignatius answers with practiced deference, dipping his head slightly.
