Page 38 of Eternal Light (Fated in the Stars #5)

Fate is Woven (Finn)

Perhaps Luca was right when he and Leo were arguing about there being some magical “pea” under the mattresses last night—because Finn’s back hurts.

Well, his everything hurts—mostly his heart and head.

The former from bearing witness to yesterday’s heart-to-heart between Gideon and Nix, and the latter from…the same, actually.

Emotions are hard, and hard emotions are harder.

No one enjoyed seeing Gideon off-kilter (again), because as much as the pack says Luca is the mood-maker, Gideon and Jay set the tone for everything else.

There was no doubt yesterday had been a shit-show of epic proportions—and Finn’s anxiety had flooded back in full force.

And here he was, without his fluffy white sweater-slash-security-blanket.

Fuck, how he hates that the first thing that comes to mind when this feeling rides him is that Nix-scented garment.

But he’d persevered.

He hadn’t barged into the surgical suite, demanding to do the work himself.

Nope—no matter that the work was already done when he got there.

He’d settled for looking at the MAR (Medical Administration Record), dissecting every pharmaceutical intervention and procedure.

He couldn’t find any flaw. The medical team had done exactly what he would have done.

It still hadn’t gotten that anxious feeling to abate.

Of course, then his mates were in the hands of not one but two psychotic, delusional murderers.

Like everyone else in the pack, Finn was having to unlearn a lifetime of protective alpha superiority bullshit—of not charging in, heedless of the danger.

That it’s alpha bullshit makes the feeling so much worse.

Not that he thought himself above it—no, not at all.

Just because the others might beat their chests and growl for all and sundry didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes want to drag Nix—and even Luca or Leo—off to his den by the hair.

His last rut had proven that underneath the urbane facade he liked to present to the world, Finn was still a Neanderthal alpha jerkface (thank you, Luca)—no matter how hard he tried otherwise.

He had to trust that Nix could protect himself and Luca.

Evidence had proven their omega more than capable, with the instincts and the skills to triumph in a physical (and often mental) battle.

Apparently, even Withers’s magic had little to no effect.

It’s mystifying. Grayson had said there was no magic in Nix’s brain from the same spell he’d inflicted on Luca.

Nix had admitted that Withers had let it slip that Nix was thwarting him.

Perhaps it was like Alpha Voice? Nix remained impervious to that, even under intense, directed attempts at Sentinel.

Incredible, really—and Finn had long ago added it to his list of “superhero omega” things.

So, on top of those instincts to protect and heal, Finn is struggling to keep his anxiety in check so far from home.

It’s harder because the stimulus is still coming, and he’s without his usual, predictable coping strategies: his quiet library, his books, his clean, tidy room—and Tsuki.

The microchips have helped, surprisingly.

Being able to see his mates’ general physical health from his phone means the device is hardly ever out of his grasp.

It’s a crutch—and one he’ll be loath to give up once this debacle is done.

It eases him in ways the white sweater never has.

It provides data straight to his brain, where he can categorize and measure it at the touch of his fingertips.

So, after they’d all settled down, he’d let his thoughts go around and around in his head for the longest time.

Gideon had been the last to finally let sleep take him—probably mulling Nix’s words over and over, as his stoic mate is wont to do.

They have that—among other things—in common.

Eventually, Finn had dozed until not long afterward, when the sun rose through the leaded glass windows.

Good thing that long shifts in the ER had taught him how to manage with little sleep for long periods, because there’s no doubt that today will be another long day.

He sees the other early birds (are they still considered early birds if it’s past 11:00?) have already vacated their bed, leaving Grayson and Luca spooned beside him.

“You’re thinking too loud, Finn,” the latter grumbles, blowing a piece of Grayson’s hair out of his mouth.

Finn doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he asks after the others.

“Where did everyone go?”

“Outside, I think? There’s a small garden. Rowan was climbing the walls.”

Even in human form, Rowan needs wide-open spaces where he can run or let his larger-than-life personality go—loudly and without fear of knocking someone or something over.

Huh.

It’s just one more way they should have seen this transformation coming.

“Gimme a kiss,” Luca interrupts his tired musings with smacking kisses and pretty red lips.

Finn leans over, and Luca turns from his spot glued to Grayson’s spine.

His mocha-flavored kisses remind him he needs coffee, STAT.

And that he loves his mate; always that.

Gideon is sitting in the chair by the window, watching them as if he’d been waiting for Luca to crack open an eyelid.

“Luca, can you remember where Carnell’s place is? How far you and Nix walked before you found the gas station?”

Luca’s face morphs into one of suspicion.

“What? No. If I tell you, then you are going to go in there guns a-blazin’ and get your ass magically kicked.”

He shakes his head and climbs over Grayson’s side to escape.

“Nope. Nope. Do not look at me like that!” he shouts as he runs toward the back of the house—bare butt jiggling the entire way—where Finn can hear Jay’s voice.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned. I’d only been trying to develop a strategy—no need to raise the alarm.”

There’s a sigh beside him, and Grayson finally rolls over, propping his head in his hand.

“You had to see that coming.”

“I should have. I seem to be saying that a lot, and oddly, I never do,” Gideon sighs.

Grayson pats Finn’s leg before sitting up.

“Luca’s right, though. We can’t go in there without a plan. We should get some backup, even. Withers is creatively evil, and by the looks of it, we deprived him of his battery last night. He might even have more children that he’s sucking dry.”

Shivering, Grayson casts a spark at the dying blaze in the hearth. There isn’t much fuel remaining, but the fire catches regardless.

“I was thinking last night…”

“Not Traveling?” Finn asks.

“No. The Guild’s wards seemed to keep me here, which is good. I can’t really control it, and who knows where I could end up—or who could see me? Or worse, I could draw them here.” Grayson’s voice is serious now, more grounded.

“The wards protect us from being tracked on The Plain, but I assume if they can get by the security guard—Hank’s protection at the gate—they could still knock on the front door.”

Just the thought of it sends anxiety zipping down Finn’s spine. He finds his phone on the table behind him before climbing to his feet.

Grayson seems to pick up on his mood shift immediately.

“Finn. Wait—I was exaggerating. If Ignatius says we’re safe here, then we are.”

Finn still moves to the windows, looking out over the cobblestone lane in front of the cottage, and sees their vehicles parked out front. He spots Rowan peeing on the tree by the front gate—then doing the same on the bed of rose bushes.

Marking territory that is not theirs is rude, not to mention grossly unsanitary. If it continues, it is definitely going to be an issue.

Sighing, Finn sits on the loveseat, just stopping himself from checking the others in the back garden on the phone.

“You’re right, of course. If Withers is powering up his magic skills with the souls of children—not just Ansel, but others—then he’s going to be an even bigger problem than Carnell and his delusions.”

There’s commotion at the door to the hall, which must lead outside.

Luca is dragging Jay into the room by his wrist. He points at Gideon and gives Jay a little push.

Leo comes in behind him, arms crossed, already prepared for an argument—or to physically restrain Gideon from chasing Carnell and Withers down.

“Sugar is looking for trouble, and Finn needs a plan,” Luca says, throwing Gideon under the bus before he starts up a clatter in the kitchen, running water into the glass carafe of a coffee maker that looks like it might be from the 1970s.

“I’m fine, but we do need a plan.” He tries to sound super sincere, even pasting his best I have everything under control smile on his face.

Finally, Jay nods.

“Yeah, okay. We definitely do. Now that we know Carnell is deadly serious, I won’t underestimate him again. But Withers…we are a little out of our depth, magic-wise.”

“I think I have an idea,” Leo says before sitting down beside Grayson on the loveseat. “I think we need to divide and conquer.”

There’s dead silence in the room because—say what? Hadn’t Leo been harping about how, when united, they are stronger than when they split up?

Jay must be on the same wavelength because he says what everyone is thinking. “I beg your pardon?”

“Look, splitting up before we knew what the other side was up to was a bad idea. Now, I think we don’t have any choice.” Leo rests his elbows on his knees. “Carnell wants Gideon, and Gideon wants face-time, right?”

“Face time, murder time; potato, potahto.” Gideon smiles his own very fake—but also very scary—smile.

Luca hands Finn a cup of coffee. It’s not iced, but it’s better than nothing, and Finn whispers his thanks before the beta settles on his lap with his own steaming cup. “So what, Gideon just knocks on the door and says, ‘hey, dude, I’m here to kill you?!’”

Leo crosses the room, grabbing an ancient-looking chess set off the sideboard, dumping the pieces on the couch beside him before placing the board on the coffee table in front of him.

Taking the white king, white queen, white rook, and white bishop, he places them on the board.

On the opposite side of the board, he slides the black king in front of the white king so they’re squaring off in the center.

“Okay, this is Gideon.” He holds up the white king.

Finn watches as Gideon rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you, Gid. This is my plan, and I say we need a battle board. Suck it up.”

He holds up the queen: “Nix.”

Followed by the Bishop: “Luca.”

Finally, the Rook: “Me. You said Carnell didn’t want any alphas in Gideon’s organization, so it makes sense we take point with Carnell.”

“So you go in and what…? Like Luc says, you knock on the door and rip his heart out?” Finn asks.

“Well, ideally, yes.” Leo flicks the black King over onto its side.

“What about Withers?” Nix asks from the doorway, carried on the back of a very naked Rowan.

Where Jay, Gideon, Leo, and Nix have all found something to wear from the hodgepodge of items in the baskets Ignatius had left, the rest of them are still free-balling.

Finn reaches over and pulls a blue T-shirt out of the closest basket and pulls it over his head.

He chooses a pair of sweatpants for the moment he can free his lap from his delicious mate.

Leo shrugs. “Well, Nix, you said he was very interested in seeing if Grayson wanted to join his cause?”

Slipping down from Rowan’s back, he growls out, “We saw his cause last night. Stealing children’s souls for a power upgrade. Gray would never do that.”

“But what if he thought I might be interested? If Jay and the rest of the alphas made him an offer he couldn’t refuse—like a soul or two—we could separate him from Carnell.

We’d have the element of surprise, given that Jay is very much alive.

That would undermine his confidence in Carnell’s ability to get the job done. ”

Grayson sits closer to the board, taking the black Queen and placing her on the other side of the board. He adds the two white Knights, the other white Rook, and the white Bishop, placing them in a half-circle around her.

Rowan growls and gives the chessboard the evil eye, as if it’s been imbued with Withers’s life force.

“How are we going to take him out? Carnell can die bloody, but we don’t even know half of what Withers can do. Why is he even riding that oily bastard’s coattails, anyway?”

“Maybe we can figure out what he did to lose his license? That’s got to be a clue of sorts, right?” Luca asks before playing musical laps and moving to Gideon’s so he can share his coffee, now that it’s lukewarm (and gross).

“We already know he can put the mind whammy on us, and Gray said before he looked like he might have some sort of offensive stuff he’s hiding from Carnell.”

“That’s right, he looked ready to take Carnell on when I saw them while Traveling. Good thinking, baby.” Grayson squeezes Luca’s foot.

Finn doesn’t add that if this divide-and-conquer idea has Grayson and Nix separated for more than half a day, they’re going to be in trouble again with the BBS. Hopefully, this won’t take longer than a few hours.

It feels incongruous to hear himself say that he hopes it will take only a few hours to take a life. His Oath judders and twinges at the thought, but Finn has long ago made peace with doing what he needs to do to keep his family safe—even if that means breaking his Oath.

He doesn’t need to learn that lesson more than once.