Page 91 of Eternal Light

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 façade 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.”