Page 20 of Threads of Fate

And then he realizes it’s really not a hard decision at all: a chance at life is better than none at all.

“Will he even survive the change in the condition he is in? What if I just kill him sooner?” Jay’s voice breaks.

“It’s my fault, you know,” Finn says, his voice breaking, his scent heavy with guilt and sorrow. “He wouldn’t be here if I had just made him stay.”

“Finn. No. The only person to blame is the person who did this. Didthisand so many other terrible things. You did the best you could at the moment. Valuing consent, taking your Oath to care for your patients, andrespecting their choicesare what make you such an amazing person and incredible doctor. Like I told you before, we don’t blame you,and Nix wouldn’t either. I’m sure he thought you were amazing.”

“He was happy, you know? He was hurt and still shining so brightly,” Finn whispers. Jay’s breath hitches to hear it said so plainly. “His smile made me want to be the best I could be. It’s such a cliche. Don’t tell Gideon or he’ll never let me live it down. I’m only sorry he didn’t let me be that for him.”

“Me too.”

Riordan strides over with a determined look on his face. He lends Jay and then Finn a hand up.

“We’ve got a plan. But we need to act fast,” Riordan says and hauls him to his feet. “Henry is on his way.”

Riordan’s mate Henry Kline is a Pack Law attorney at Leo’s father’s firm, which makes the plan much easier. They’ll petition Were Rights Courts to be filed with a motion of guardianship. It would make Jay Nix’s guardian, cementing Nix’s membership in the Rhodes pack, given he could not do so voluntarily.

It further enables Jay to make life-changing decisions without Nix’s explicit consent, a position that relies entirely on the testimony of Riordan and Dennie when Nix was brought in. That bloodied photo Nix had clutched in his hand even while fighting for his life was physical evidence that Nix had some intent to belong to Jay’s pack. It could be argued (and they will do exactly that) that he knew that the Were community existed, given the attack was perpetrated by a member of that same community, even though he absolutely had not. Records show that Nix was held against his will for a minimum of at least five years, based on his TenMed file.

His previous next-of-kin appeared on the Universal Were Registry and showed that Dawson Ulysses Haversham Hayes was a lone beta.

Henry formulates the documents in a meeting room on the sixth floor, and after examining them thoroughly, he takes the signed versions from Jay, watches as Riordan witnesses them, unsuccessfully dodges a laughing peck to his cheek from his alpha, and is gone with a nod. The young alpha is even more abrupt and prickly than Gideon, and only slightly less scary.

Jay is overflowing with a strange mix of fear, gratitude, and, worst of all, hope. Hope that the courts will work fast for once.Hope that they will decide in their favor. Hope that it will all be in time to save their Sunshine.

“Well, Jay, all we have to do now is keep your boy alive until we can get the judge to rule. Henry is confident, though. Now, let’s go get you some face time with our star patient.” They take the elevator this time and when it stops at the fifth floor, their friend offers no false reassurances, just a small smile as the doors slip shut after them.

When they arrive back in the waiting room, Gideon and Leo are back as well. Gideon’s hand is bandaged and there’s blood on both men’s t-shirts. Jay raises an eyebrow, but both men give him a reassuring nod, which istotallynot concerning at all. Finn and he had agreed to wait until the court’s verdict to tell the others. No sense in getting their meager hopes up.

“We waited for you. We thought you should go in first. The nurse told us it’s two at a time for fifteen-minute intervals, but the rest of us can camp out here for as long as we like.”

Taking a deep breath, he says, “Thanks, Leo. I’ll go in by myself if that’s okay?”

Chapter Eight: Gideon

Gideon

If anyone asked the members of his pack or those he works with, they would say without a doubt that Gideon is a spiritual person. Oh, he still believes in science; and every time shit lands on the floor in his immaculate kitchen, gravity abruptlyremindshim that he’s a believer in science.

But spirituality is something that exists alongside his belief in the literal ups and downs of the universe; he could no more separate them than he could pull the moon from the sky. Any of the individuals in Gideon’s life could tell you that much; what they couldn’t tell you, however, iswhyhis belief in the spiritual nature of life is so strong.

That’s something that no one knows except The Moon Goddess and Gideon.

Born into one of the most violent crime families in the United States, it became clear to Gideon’s mother early on that her precocious, curious, single-minded child was on track to rise through the ranks quickly as a crime family prodigy.

By the age of ten, his father was already singing his praises for his early aptitude with weapons, his skill in strategy, and his near-fearlessness. But Gideon’s mother had also seen how her son loved living things and creating things in the kitchen or the craft room. Her rooms in the compound were usually decorated with art and pressed flowers.

The staff quarters were often overrun with stray cats, convalescing birds, and even the occasional squirrel. She once shared with him before she died that she could see the scales were at a tipping point. So, she chose to leave her husband and save her child.

It hadn’t been easy—escaping Patrick Carnell and going “off-grid” in a small cabin deep in the Smoky Mountains, in the heart of an ancient forest—but it had been worth it.

Because Gideon hadthrived.

Gideon’s inner wolf loved the wilderness. From the rugged peaks that rose like sentinels in the mist to the deep ancient forests, to the quiet streams where he caught crayfish in shoals; they all became his playground and his classroom. The skills he’d already developed on the gun range or in a physical training gym translated to tracking animals and practicing his stealth against the elk or black bears.

He built on his already impressive endurance, focus, and self-control. He borrowed books from the small town library every month when they traveled in the warm months, selling produce or crafts and trading for shoes and clothing. Gideon absorbed every word he’d read and could even now recite poetry or talk about quantum mechanics.

It was a place out of time, and it was there that Gideon’s passion for creating dishes to please his mother and his discerning palette grew. Their corner of the world provided for them. His mother would depart wisdom from her plain upbringing with every recipe; the garden and the forest and the streams offered gifts, and Gideon treated them as such.

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