Page 45 of Shifter Omegaverse AU

“Milo, please, for me. Please don’t drive home this late. I…I can’t explain it, but I just…I need you to stay,” Rowan said, his eyes appearing nearly black in the dark room. “I’ll make you coffee and breakfast in the morning and then we can drive to strawberries together?”

Milo blinked hard, forcing the tears away even as Rowan described quite possibly the sweetest “morning after” Milo could imagine…even if that’s not really what it was.

They could enjoy one normal morning together before Milo dropped the news that would change everything between them, right?

“Okay,” Milo said, fighting to control the tremor in their voice. “But I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Rowan’s eyes scanned over Milo, stopping in the hollow of their throat as they swallowed hard.

“Okay,” Rowan agreed, standing up, causing the muscles in his sides and back to ripple.

Milo’s pony let out a high-pitched neigh of loss, which Milo ignored. If Milo allowed their pony to move as much as a finger right now, they weren’t sure they’d be able to avoid throwing themself over the back of the couch to get to Rowan. He was gorgeous and kind, and he was supposed to be theirs, but—

Milo’s eyes landed on a second blanket on the back of the couch. If they had just grabbed this one instead of the one on their lap, they might never have touched Rowan’s skin in the first place.

Milo tugged the blanket down and wrapped it tightly around themself like a shield. They usually weren’t this pessimistic. It was one of the things Ray claimed to love about them so much. The evening had been hard, though, and to discover their fated mate in the midst of that?

Milo could only hope that fate knew what it was doing.

11

Author’s Note:

JUST KISS EACH OTHER – consensually.

Rowan

Something was very wrong.

Rowan’s hawk cried out as if he was about to be touched, and Rowan fought his way towards consciousness. When he apparently didn’t wake up fast enough, his hawk shrieked again, and Rowan peeled his eyes open.

He was sprawled out across his bed, with no danger in sight.

A soft noise came from the living room, but before Rowan could even begin to guess at what it was, his hawk screeched a third time, decidedly not helping the matter. Rowan strained to listen, but outside of his head, the apartment was silent and still.

The harder he listened, the more the lack of sound pressed in around him until he had almost convinced himself he’d imagined the noise, but then it came again, only louder.

It reminded him of the keening cry an abandoned hawk would make. Rowan had only heard the sound once, when he was very young, and he and his brother had gotten lost in the woods one of the many times their parents had gone out of town. It had been a rough week, filled with Raina and Riley arguing, and Ruben getting into all sorts of trouble. Instead of staying human and using his much bigger lungs to call for their sisters, Ruben had shifted and cried out with the saddest, tiniest shrieks until Riley came bursting through the underbrush, with Raina in tow.

At the time, Rowan had been too young to navigate back to the house, and he’d never been much of a crier, so instead he’d sat in silence, holding Ruben bundled up in his shirt until rescue arrived.

He was much older now, and his instincts were pulling him towards the noise. It almost felt like a fishing hook had snagged Rowan’s heart and was tugging him forward.

He stumbled out of bed, and moments from the night before flooded in. He definitely hadn’t drunk enough to black out, or even brown out, but he couldn’t remember going from sitting on the couch with Milo to being in bed.

Perhaps that was why, when he emerged from the bedroom to find Milo curled up on the couch crying, he practically shouted, “Milo?”

Milo curled up even tighter, whimpering softly.

Rowan vaulted over the couch, like he was some sort of superhero who could scoop Milo up and carry them to safety. The problem was, there was nothing tangible to rescue them from. Their eyes were closed, and their face was scrunched in pain as they fought off whatever horrors lived inside their head.

Milo’s lips parted around a grimace, and Rowan’s hand reached out of its own accord, as if to touch their arm or maybe grab their wrist. As usual, though, before he could make contact, his nervous system took over. It was as if he’d tried to reach for a red-hot stove and his senses kicked in just in time to make him recoil.

For as long as he could remember, his body treated touch like an imminent threat. Milo wasn’t a threat, though. They were Rowan’s friend, and at this point, he would go so far as to say they were his best friend. There was just something right between them, a safety he hadn’t ever known with another person.

His hawk bobbed his head, and Rowan took that as permission and guidance. He settled the weight of his hand on Milo’s shoulder and applied just enough pressure he hoped they’d be able to feel him through the blanket and the mesh shirt they’d worn to the club.

Milo’s next whimper died on their lips, but instead of jerking awake, it was like they slowly came back to themself. Their eyelids peeled back, and their spine loosened until they sort of melted into the side of the couch. Their hazy gray eyes settled first on Rowan’s face and then traced his arm down to where his hand was resting on their shoulder.