Page 38 of Shifter Omegaverse AU

Rowan’s hawk was on his feet again, feathers puffed up and ready to fight. Rowan had never so much as shoved another person before, not even his siblings, who used to roughhouse and wrestle in the backyard. His hawk was the same, but right now, he seemed ready to be deployed, talons, beak, and all.

Rowan took two big steps forward and met Milo where they stood frozen, watching as Ruben threaded his way through the throngs of shifters until he reached Ray and the large guy. Ruben came right up behind Ray, who was dancing on the larger guy’s front, and pressed up against his back. He said something in Ray’s ear, and Ray jerked his head to the side, craning his neck to look up at Ruben. He was a good six or so inches taller than Ray, but still close to a foot shorter than the other shifter…who did not look pleased to be interrupted.

Ray and Ruben stared into each other’s eyes before Ruben wrapped his arms protectively around Ray’s waist and wheeled him around, effectively shielding Ray with his body. He glared up at the larger shifter, and although it took a moment, recognition dawned on the guy's face, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

For some reason, Ray was still dancing or at least swaying. Ruben seemed to be moving with him, even as he said something over his shoulder to the guy.

“Okay, security’s coming,” Hank called from the bar, pointing to two even larger shifters making their way onto the dance floor from the opposite side. It would probably take them a minute or two to get there, and Rowan wasn’t entirely sure Ruben had a minute.

“What’s he doing?” Milo breathed.

Rowan turned back to find the larger shifter glaring down at Ruben as he said something else, his hand on Ray’s waist sliding up to rest over his heart. The guy uncrossed his arms and gestured wildly before spitting on the floor between them and turning to leave.

“Oh gods, is he going to get away?” Milo asked.

“Not likely," Hank said, right as the taller security guard intercepted the guy, grabbing him by the bicep and walking him towards the door.

“Told you I’d handle it,” Hank said. “Even though it seems like things worked out for the best anyway.”

Milo let out a soft bark of a laugh that sounded equal parts relieved and incredulous. Rowan felt the same way as he watched Ruben begin to sway his hips in time with Ray, who was still dancing.

Either the omega didn’t know what was good for him, or somehow, against all odds, Ruben made him feel safe enough to keep going?

“You know,” Milo said. “I don’t mean any offense to your brother, of course, but he is exactly Ray’s type.”

Rowan’s hawk gave a loud kee-aww. He had somewhat relaxed his posture, tucking his wings back against his body, but he was still agitated. He shifted from foot to foot, raising and lowering his tail feathers like the rudder on a plane.

Ruben really was Ray’s type, down to the love ‘em and leave ‘em relationship style. Although Ruben claimed he was always very clear with the people he hooked up with, he’d dealt with his fair share of juggling broken-hearted shifters over the years.

“They always seem to get attached, even when I’m honest up front!” Ruben often said, and Rowan really hoped that second part was true.

What would happen if Ray and Ruben started hooking up and Ray got attached? Would he blame Ruben for breaking his heart, even if Ruben was up front about his lack of interest in relationships?

Would Ray blame Rowan?

Would Milo?

The volume in the club increased, and the overwhelming scents of pheromones, sweat, and body spray clawed at Rowan’s throat. There wasn’t enough space in here to breathe, let alone think. It was like his thoughts were spinning out of control, colliding and falling over each other.

Rowan stumbled back a few steps until his lower back hit the bar top. Hank had reserved their cups of water for them, and Rowan snatched one up and downed it.

Milo was still standing a few feet away, staring at the dance floor with a pinched expression. As if he was seeing the future, Rowan could picture Milo turning that expression on him. There would be no more dates, friend or otherwise, no more good morning texts or voice messages before bed. Whatever it was they were becoming would wither on the vine like crops planted out of season.

Because maybe this wasn’t actually their season. Rowan had wondered, more than a couple of times, what the odds were that they would run into each other at the movie theater and then again at the café. Probably the same odds that they would all be here tonight and that the same jerk would dance with Ruben and then Ray.

Things were just as likely to fall apart as they were to work out. Rowan knew that firsthand. He’d watched the one thing he really cared about growing up fade away, and if the look Ray was giving Ruben over his shoulder was anything to go by, he had a pretty good idea what was going to happen—

Rowan’s hawk shrieked in warning, and Rowan stumbled away from the bar, just in time to avoid Hank’s hand coming down on his shoulder.

“Woah, sorry, buddy,” Hank said, throwing both his hands up in front of him in a “I surrender” gesture. “I was just trying to get your attention. I think you might be adrenaline crashing. I see it far too often after fights break out, and before you try to argue with me, yes, even witnesses can crash. Drink this.”

He pushed a drink that looked a lot like Milo’s across the bar towards him, but Rowan shook his head. “I don’t think I need any more alcohol.”

“It’s not,” Milo said, appearing at his side. “It’s a Shirley Temple mocktail. I don’t ever drink when I’m out with Ray for exactly this reason.”

Milo’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, and their eyes were the darkest gray Rowan had ever seen.

“Although I guess it didn’t matter tonight. I’m really grateful to you and Ruben. I don’t know what would have happened if you both weren’t here.” Milo mustered up a small smile, which he gifted to Hank. “And of course you, too, Hank. Thank you.”