Page 26 of Eternal Light (Fated in the Stars #5)

The doors to the hospital hiss open, and Rowan feels an overwhelming flood of relief to see Gideon and Finn jogging through the parking lot toward them.

Gideon looks haggard and oddly fragile in a wrinkled scrub top, but he brings with him that scent of smoky pine Rowan was sure he’d never smell again.

“Holy shitballs,” Winnie whispers. “Do you think they’re straight?”

Rowan would laugh if he could, because nope. He can’t help but agree, though. No matter how tired and sad, they’re still all hotter than fire.

Instead, he chuffs and licks her hand.

“Nah, me either—but wow.”

Finn approaches first, and Rowan realizes they aren’t sure it’s him. So he gives Winnie a last lick of gratitude, jumping up so he can lick Finn’s face. His mate startles, and Rowan hears a growl from Gideon—just in case Rowan is, in fact, just a big scary wolf-dog.

“Ew, Ro. What the fuck,” Finn groans, and pushes him back. “How can you smell like a dog and spiced rum?”

“Down, Ro,” Gideon says firmly as he points to the ground.

Even when they play, Gideon never points—but there’s a glint in his exhausted eyes and a smirk on his lips. He’s enjoying this far too much.

Bastard.

Winnie laughs as he goes down. “He’s a handful.”

“He is, at that.” Gideon smiles with a nod. “I’m Gideon, and this is my mate, Finn. Thank you for returning him to us. He’s not very bright, so it’s good he found someone kind to help him.”

Rowan’s wolf growls again at the offense, and he thinks about peeing on his mate’s leg to show him who is boss.

Oh, hell, no. We are not going back there, dumbass. Jay is the boss. Gideon is the boss. You are NOT the boss.

Finn laughs and shakes her hand. “Thank you, Winnie Chappelle. Our Ro is definitely a dog with a mind of his own—but we love him.”

The wolf wags their tail at hearing they’re loved.

Pick an emotion and stick with it for five fucking seconds, please.

“My pleasure. I needed a friend, and there he was. My brother would love him. He’s a real animal lover,” she says, tilting her head toward the hospital.

“Your brother?” Finn inquires, and Rowan bumps his mate’s hand with his nose to encourage their Dr. Merritt to ask more questions. Maybe they can help this very kind, good-smelling, ear-rubbing new friend.

Gideon comes up behind him, and he feels his soft hands in the fur on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, Ansel, he’s twelve. He’s in there with something they can’t figure out, and it’s not the first time. This time, though…” She breaks off, and her lemon scent turns sour with anticipatory grief.

Gideon sighs. “We’re sorry about your brother.”

“Thanks,” she says. “Nothing short of a miracle can fix it now, they said. I’m headed to work, but I’ll be back tonight. Shit, I’m so late. I gotta get to work.”

She hardly has to bend at all to kiss Rowan on the nose before rubbing his ears one final time. “You be good, Ro. Bye!”

The bus pulls up, and she grabs her book and bag before climbing on with a last wave.

Rowan is sad to see her go. He wants to help her—not just because she helped him but because…well, he’s not sure why, but he is sad to see her go.

He whines softly, and his tail drops for the first time that day.

“Rowan Foster.” Gideon’s tone is disbelieving.

Oh. He’d forgotten for a minute that Gideon was there.

Turning, Rowan finds him with his arms crossed, his smile replaced with a frown.

Rowan wants to tell them he doesn’t know what happened or why he’s stuck like this. Or even what happened to Nix and Luca.

Instead, he noses at Gideon’s hand for another rub behind his ears.

Gideon sighs but doesn’t deny him. “Okay, Ro. Can you change back?”

He shakes his head and whines.

“Shit. Maybe Jay can Alpha-Voice him back?” Finn ponders. He’s got his clinical expression going, and while it’s normally hot, right now, Rowan has bigger things on his mind than playing doctor.

“I don’t know…I kind of like him like this.”

Figures.

“Quieter. Although, no less trouble for the four-legs,” Gideon teases, with a scratch behind the wolf’s ear.

“Ha. I think it’s going to be hard to explain to our kids why their Dad is a wolf all the time, no?”

Rowan is tired of being left out of the conversation. So, he barks—loudly. They startle, and he uses the distraction to turn on his heel—heels—and make for the front door of the hospital. He’s going to see Jay, and he’s going to make sure his alpha knows he’s never supposed to die again.

“Hey, Rowan! Wait!”

They catch him inside the vestibule, where the security guard gives Gideon a wide berth before noticing Rowan. At Gideon’s dead stare, he backs off and raises his hands in surrender.

“Bill, we’re taking our mate’s dog up to see if we can improve his health outcome,” he hears Finn say hurriedly behind him

Rowan is stymied by the buttons on the wall outside the elevator but as soon as the door opens–thankfully empty and going up–he enters, urging his mates to hurry the fuck up with a low bark.

Gideon snorts again and hits the button for the top floor.

The smells of blood and grief—of pain, sickness, and death—make Rowan’s wolf sneeze, so he sticks his sensitive nose in Gideon’s back. It’s hardly any better, with its scent of hospital soap and Gideon’s thunderous fear.

He can’t help but sneeze twice more in the small space.

When the door opens, he doesn’t wait for the others; he just follows his sensitive nose to the end of the hallway, dodging nurses and other pedestrians to bowl open the door.

His alpha is lying propped up on a large, wide hospital bed with a pale Grayson tucked in close, nose pressed up against Jay’s throat.

Leo is sitting on a chair tipped back on two legs so he can prop his feet up on the bed while Jay absently runs the tips of his fingers under the cuff of Leo’s pant leg.

The room smells of blood, smoky pine, and patchouli mixed with basil-vanilla.

“Holy shit!” Leo yells.

All three of them jolt at his abrupt entrance, and Grayson rolls to the side to get up for a closer look—just in time for Rowan to leap the ten feet from the door onto the bed. He lands on his feet (all four) over top of his surprised alpha.

Rowan expects the wolf to want to dominate the injured enigma, and he braces to wrestle him back. It’s harder to ignore his instincts in this form, but he will not take this as a win—let alone one that they haven’t earned.

It’s a fucked-up way to think about it, but it makes sense to the wolf.

This is our mate. We love him. This isn’t an opportunity, dumbass. We almost lost him.

The wolf whines as the reality of that sinks in, and all desire to dominate or gloat immediately evaporates. It’s such a horrific reality that they’re licking Jay’s face while tears fall from his eyes onto the bandages covering his alpha’s chest.

“Rowan. Shit. That’s gross. Stop.”

So he lies down on Jay’s legs to get his point across better.

He sticks his nose in under his injured arm, giving the occasional lick to the inside of his elbow.

He lets the fear and shame of the morning come forward so he can lay them at the proverbial feet of their alpha—even if he has yet to speak the words.

It’s merely preparation for when he can find them.

He finally feels Jay’s hand petting over his head.

“It’s okay now, Ro. It’s okay. You’re good.”

And it will be.

Now that he’s here with Jay, Rowan can finally begin to make sense of it all.