Page 46 of Bonds of Fate

Just the thought has him groaning and his cock filling again.

Down, motherfucker.

He looks at Grayson again, and his wolf grumbles with pride, satisfaction thrumming through him at the deep bites marking their alpha mate’s neck and shoulders. Rowan grits his teeth as he moves out of the nest.

His eye catches on a smaller, healing bite on Grayson’s groin, above Jay’s pack bonding bite.

The wolf knows those teeth.

Before he can stop himself, he presses his nose to the still-healing wound in hopes he can catch the scent of his omega—he’s sorely missed it.

Barely-there-sweet-vanilla mixes with Gray’s fresh basil and his wolf hums with satisfaction.

Omega. Mine.

Maybe they should find their omega.

With only that thought in mind, Rowan is at the door to the nest room as stealthily as his wolf can manage. It’s just him and Grayson in the room now, and ‌they seem to think that is enough to stop him from leaving.

Naked, already damp with sweat from the rising wave, he slips through the door and creeps down the stairs toward the living room.

His nose leads him to the couch, where his omega is curled up with sweet Luca—soft red lips puckered around one of Luca’s fingers, the occasional quiet sucking sound breaking the silence.

“Rowan.”

Leo stands in the kitchen, holding a plate of sandwiches and two protein drinks. He moves slowly, carefully—so carefully that it makes Rowan’s heart twinge—because it looks a lot like fear.

“Ro, let’s go back to the nest. Grayson and Finnie are hungry.”

The wolf shakes their head. “Nix.”

Their breaths come deep and heavy, pulling in lungfuls of chocolate and vanilla, the scent wafting up from the warm, sleeping couple. It’s comfort—thick and familiar.

And Rowan wants it.

Wants them.

Wants him.

For himself.

“Fuck, Rowan. Get your wolf under control. You don’t want to scare him. Or Luca. Come with me. Please.”

Leo sets the food and drinks on the counter—just in case.

Just in case, what?

Rowan can’t imagine. Leo is strong and fast, his body built for power, yet Rowan’s wolf is wily—and motivated.

If it came down to it, he could take him.

They both know it.

What? No. Fuck, what do you mean, motivated? Are we considering fighting our mate over our omega? That’s…no.

His hands clench as his wolf hurls every filthy fantasy he’s ever allowed himself—every forbidden thought about their omega—at him, all at once.

He forces a breath, modulating it through his mouth as he starts a backward countdown from a thousand. His eyes squeeze shut, and he takes a single, tiny step backward. Then another.And another—each one slower than the last—until he reaches the middle of the room and finally manages to turn away.

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