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“My wolf wants to pull this counter up and burn the place down.”

Jay stops his surveillance and lets his claws recede so he can pick the bowl up again. “What? Why? And also, no. Fuck, no.” He points a finger at Rowan just in case his wolf hasn’t been told that enough today.

In response, Rowan points to the counter where a very wet, shiny, tiny butt-shaped imprint reveals where Nix had been sitting.

“Oops, that’s going to be hard to get out,” the omega giggles.

Jay’s eyes bug out as he starts testing the sturdiness of the counter for himself with both hands while Gideon cackles.

Mystery’s Precious Magic (Grayson)

The wooden platform circling the second floor of the safe house leads to a set of stairs, descending to the main floor’s outdoor area, then further down into what Luca jokingly calls Sherwood Forest—after all, they’re merry men. Dense, with just the right amount of vegetation to conceal someone bent on stealth—it is why Grayson now finds himself creeping carefully through it.

While Rowan has been obsessed with feeding Nix and ensuring his omega is well-fed (yes, Grayson’s noticed), Grayson’s fixation has been on Nix’s safety.

It’s not that he doubts the others’ care; they do their best.

If any real threat arose, Gideon and Jay would be the first to step in, ready to defend the pack, but this feels different. It’s personal. A quiet, restless energy that lingers, refusing to leave him. His mind won’t fully settle unless he knows, without question, that Nix is safe.

Once he’d gotten the wolf settled with the knowledge of their daughter tucked up tight against his heart, Grayson had figured out quickly that his own wolf’s penchant for being an asshole extended to this particular aspect of caring for his angel.

Perhaps the overwhelming urge to protect is born of their soul bond.

Whatever the reason, Grayson wakes in the earliest hours of the morning, on the edges of a vivid dream which is always different but familiar. The feelings refuse to fade until he’s checked the area around where Nix is sleeping soundly.

The wolf had been experiencing peak agitation this past week: oscillatingbetween joy at the news of his pup and fear about whatever had Gideon and Jay worked up to the point of subterfuge in Nashville.

Add to it the car chase and Carnell showing his hand mere minutes after landing in Clearwater…well, the wolf has ramped up Grayson’s morning vigilance with mid-afternoon and evening jaunts, too.

He feels the cool dirt of the forest floor beneath his feet, only now realizing he’s once again left without his shoes. Just last week, he’d stood in the yard with Tsuki at 5:00 a.m., toes buried in the snow, startled to find the ice melting around him. The thought of turning back now to fetch his shoes feels…unsettling, as if breaking the quiet spell would unravel something he isn’t ready to face.

Unlike Gideon, Grayson doesn’t care about the weather.

It’s not that he likes to sweat or freeze his balls off; he just hasn’t ever cared much about something he can’t change. Coats or T-shirts—it makes no difference to him. He usually remembers his umbrella or to leave extra time for travel in the winter, but for his comfort? It really makes no difference.

Lately, though, Grayson has been hot—and not the sexy kind.

New but not uncomfortable, his base temperature has increased to a steady 102°F, up from the usual Were physiology of 100°F.

After his bouts with BBS, Finn had insisted he track any changes in his physiology, and this had been consistent enough that he’d mentioned it to Finn before Christmas. They’d run a few tests out of curiosity. Nothing to alarm anyone—they discovered he was fine.

Better than fine.

So, just to ease Finn’s mind, he continues to take his temperature every day and logs it on his phone. Since they’d been on the run, however, Grayson hasn’t bothered.

But this morning, when he’d woken from another strange dream, Nix and Leo had been curled into him. They had thrown off the blankets they’d pulled up when they’d gone to sleep, but Leo had a soft, glowing sheen of sweat covering his broad back, and he’d been cool to Grayson’s touch.

Nix had felt the same as always, so maybe Leo was unwell.

Was there a condition that made your temperaturedrop and still made you sweaty? Grayson would normally Google the shit out of that (like he does everything else), but he hadn’t been awarded one of the four burner phones.

Gideon, Jay, and Leo had called dibs, and one was reserved for Finn when his rut settled, in case he needed to provide medical support. Still, he’ll talk to Leo about how he’s feeling when he gets back.

Grayson hadn’t been too put out about the phones, though; he wasn’t going anywhere the others wouldn’t be, and the internet was off-limits anyway. Made sense to be cautious when no one knew the full extent of Carnell’s reach. The fact that he’d managed to clone Finn’s phone in such a short time and plant a tracker with its own power source spoke volumes about his connections and resources.

Anger skitters down his spine at Carnell’s audacity.

Yes, anger. Grayson is surprised, too.