Our Deceptive Heat (When it Raines Omegaverse #3)

2. Ryn

Chapter two

Ryn

One step bravely through the fearsome doors of destiny - Ryn Raines

“I’m not nervous.”

“You said that,” Locke says calmly. He puts an arm over the back of the seat and tilts his head, closing his eyes and basking in the sunlight that’s filtering through his tinted windows. “I’m so tired.”

“Maybe if you weren’t up teasing all those women.”

“I wasn’t teasing all those women!”

“What were you doing, then?”

Locke lifts his head and grins. “It was exceptional. I have this model train, and-”

“You disgust me,” I say, not believing him. I’ve seen all the tabloids. Even if most aren’t all true, there are some that are just too graphic not to be.

A flicker of something crosses his face, but it’s gone before I understand it.

“And you horrify me. This is insane, by the way. Entrapment and all that,” he throws back at me with a raised brow and pointed look.

“I’m not trapping them. I’m working with them.”

“Under false pretenses.”

“They know everything they need to know,” I say tartly.

“Sure,” Locke drawls out.

I look out at the hotel we’re about to walk into. I’ve stayed here a time or two, but right now, the thought of walking inside is giving me full body shivers that I can’t control .

“Come on, let’s get this done. My dearest manager Jason is waiting to rip me a new one.”

“That guy is strangely obsessed with you. Not in a good way, either.”

“Yeah, but when you sell your soul to the devil, you take what you get.”

“Perhaps, next time, read your contract before you decide it will do to piss off Aunt Cara.”

“Yeah, well, that went really well for me, didn’t it?” Locke says bitterly. “Ah, well, everyone loves me. It will be fine.”

I scoff and shake my head. “I feel sorry for those girls.”

“Don’t. They don’t care about me, either. All they care about is Locke, superstar lead singer of Derision.”

I pause for a moment and then do something I never do. I throw myself across the backseat and into his arms, squeezing him hard enough that he makes a strange oof sound.

“What’s this for?”

“I just hate to see you sad, Locke, and I hope you know that I would do anything to help you.”

“I know you would, Ryn. It’s fine. I brought this on myself with my stupidity.”

“It's sad to think we’re all so desperate to escape our mothers that we keep ending up in these situations,” I murmur.

“Uh-uh. Cut that crap off before it turns into something that’s going to get us in trouble. Focus on the goal. You’re almost there. On the other side of those hotel doors is a band in desperate need of your skills.”

I straighten my shoulders. I do have mad skills. Locke’s songs that I wrote him all became hits.

“Now, get your ass out of my limo, and go find your destiny.”

I lift a hand to him and slide out of the car. He follows, but as soon as he steps out, people start screaming, and that’s my cue. I disappear unnoticed by the crowd of adoring fans and melt into obscurity.

I slip inside the hotel, barely taking in the huge water feature that takes up a giant part of the lobby or the luxury marble floors and gold trim.

I find the lifts and press the number they gave. Level seven. I stand inside as it climbs, cursing silently as we stop at what feels like every stop. But when we get to the floor, I very nearly don’t get out. I just manage to slip between the doors at the last minute, and then I stand in the hall, my heart pounding, my throat tight.

What if I get caught? What if he finds out?

In the last three months, I’ve researched everything I can to find any information on Fate’s Choice. Everything. I know their dates of birth. I know Digs and Tyr are twenty-five. Mako twenty-six. Envy is twenty-three. I know they met when they were kids. Tyr has a little sister. Two years ago, Mako’s parents died in a car crash.

I know, lots of useless information.

I don’t know what they’re like. I don’t know if they’ll be rude. If they will be kind. I don’t know if they will be open to new ideas or if they will cut me off at the knees.

I approach the door and, before I can think better of it, knock hard.

There’s a pause, and then the door is ripped open. Their bassist, Digs, is taller than I had imagined. My mouth waters, and I find myself fixating on the way his chest rises and falls. He’s not fat, but he’s not thin, either. He’s just solid, and I had no idea I was going to find it so attractive.

This is unnerving. I don’t have this reaction to anyone. It steals my ability to talk, my ability to think. It’s like insta-lust. This is insane. I don’t like it. At all.

Now, I want to run but for entirely different reasons.

He grins, and the boyish gleam in his eyes makes my damn ovaries awaken. His hair is strawberry blond, and he’s got the purest bluest eyes I’ve ever seen on anyone. Even his lashes are blond. Digs Fate has got a spray of freckles and a thick beard cropped close to his chin and stands easily a head taller than me.

He is dreamy.

“Ryn?”

“That’s me,” I manage to choke out as I take a healthy step backwards.

Digs just reaches out, his long arms wrapping around me, and pulls me into his hold and off my feet. I let out a squeak as he spins me around and into the hotel room, kicking the door closed.

He smells like almonds. I love almonds. Damn it, Ryn, do not sniff the alpha.

“You are the cutest little thing.”

I let out a peep of protest, but he leans in and inhales.

I don’t smell of anything. My scent is competently gone. I know that because for every minute of every day; I make sure that it never comes out. Scent blockers and scent neutralisers, all my cosmetics and toiletries are scent free. Anything to help me fade into obscurity.

My scent of coconut is something I don’t know that anyone has ever smelled before.

He sets me down on my feet while I try to comprehend my reaction to him. It’s baffling and has me feeling like I’m standing on a rocking ship. I can’t quite get my balance.

I planned for everything. Except this.

With growing unease, I turn to face the others. Panic flickers at the edge of my sight, and I taste all the regret I’m currently trying to swallow .

Mako is tall with a strong face that makes a lot of people think he’s angry, but right now, he’s curious. I can read that easily. He is striking. I can’t look away from him.

“Ryn Raines.” I hold out my hand, trying to sound professional.

He takes it, turns it over, and brings my knuckles to his lips.

Holy smokes, my knees about buckle. No one has ever done that to me before.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Raines. My name is Mako.”

I’ve lost the ability to speak, all the words are gone. All I can do is stare at him.

His voice is a deep gravel sound that goes into my bones and soul and stays there. His hair is dark and long, and he has these cheekbones and deep brown eyes that take my breath away.

I hear a shuffling sound and turn to see Tyr looking me up and down. He seems stunned. Which is how I feel. He covers it quickly. His eyes are gold, and his hair is short, black, and cut stylishly. He is gorgeous. Tyr looks like the man your mother warned you to stay away from. When he smiles, he’s got dimples, his gold eyes gleam. He looks like sin, seduction, and good times.

I have no words to explain my reaction to him other than he steals all my reason from my head. I am still as I take him in, lost and floating, unable to find my voice.

“Tyr,” he says his name quietly but firmly.

I can instantly hear the singer in him.

In my head, I can hear music that I’ve come to associate with him. Deep notes and intricate melodies.

“And this is Envy!” Digs says.

I turn, and my entire world shifts and narrows to this one moment. This one person. If there are such things as fallen angels, Envy is one. His hair is white, his eyes pale green, his skin is clear with high cheekbones and plump lips. Intelligent, cautious eyes watch me from a tall form that seems slimmer than the others. He is so damned beautiful that I don’t think there is a song to describe him.

My tongue is tied. I have no words. All I can do is stare. I want a picture that I can cry over; I want to reach out and touch him and see if he’s real.

He smiles, and my stomach flips. Music bursts into my mind, dancing around me.

Envy.

I am in so much trouble.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hello,” I manage to rasp out. “I’m Ryn, your songwriter.”

His smile widens, but Tyr steps protectively between us, moving to block my view. I know that move. Locke does it all the time to protect Lia and me .

I turn away, focusing on the job at hand and showing Tyr that I respect his decision to shield his alpha.

“So you need a hit song?”

“It would be awesome if we could. But just a song, any song. So the label doesn’t drop us,” Digs says with a carefree laugh.

I nod sharply. I know what my father is like. The threat is very real.

“I’ve listened to your music. It’s good. It’s intense and very emotional. I’ve got some ideas, and I’d love to know what you think.”

In seconds, I have five notebooks open with pages of notes spread out on the coffee table. I pull out my pens and tie my hair in a loose bun at the base of my neck. My fingers slip my phone out of my pocket to load up what I’ve been working on.

I lay the ideas down on the table, playing the tunes and voice notes I’ve kept when needed. Letting them get a sense of who I am and what I can do.

I’m used to having to prove myself. Most people assume I skate by on my parents’ names. They don’t know I’m work driven. I focus on research and aim to be the best I can be in whatever I do.

Some people call me obsessive.

I call myself driven, meticulous, and goal orientated.

Tyr is the most passionate, getting up close to me and leaning in. Our arms press together as we pick apart lyrics and change things up. He constantly asks me questions and makes suggestions that spark ideas in my head. After an hour, I stare at him as he listens intently, and I decide this alpha is almost a male version of me. His eyes find mine, and he smiles.

I’ve won him over. I don’t know why I feel such relief, but I’ve never been able to work with anyone like this. He gets the lyrics; he understands what I’m trying to do. Working with him is like speaking a language only we can understand.

I’m surprised by how much theory he knows and wonder why he’s not writing his own music. He clearly knows what he’s doing. I wonder if he’s been blocked and unable to write. Maybe I could help him.

His hair hangs to the sides, kind of scraggly, but it looks soft. I want to reach out and touch it. I’ve never seen hair as black as his. He lifts his eyes and catches me staring. My stomach flips, and I look away, opening my bag and pulling out a protein bar.

Time slips away as we iron out exactly what sounds are Fate’s Choice. Tyr expects perfection. Two hours after we start, I realise I respect this individual more than any other person I’ve met in this industry.

Digs keeps our drinks refilled and distracts Tyr when he’s getting too intense .

The others help Tyr, but they look to him for direction. Mako sits in the corner playing a guitar, while Envy sits at a keyboard and records the notes and music Tyr gives him.

Digs is the only one who doesn’t really help us, but even then, he provides small tidbits of lyrics that are just genius. He mostly sits and watches me, keeping me feeling nervous and edgy. I want to ask him what he’s looking at, but I’m too scared.

In the end, after six long hours, Digs forces us to pack it all up, ignoring Tyr’s snarling protests and bullying Envy and Mako away from their instruments. I’ve somehow ended up sitting cross-legged on their couch, my shoes on the floor with the very basic start of a song that could very well be Fate’s Choice’s next biggest hit staring back at me.

I lean my head back and check my phone. I’ve got a missed call from my mother and one from Locke.

I check the message, but Locke is all good. My mother’s voicemail is of her drunken accusations. I hang up quickly, hoping they didn’t hear it.

“I should go-”

“Stay for dinner,” Digs says from the kitchen.

I look up, startled to realise he’s practically got a feast happening. There are so many plates of food. My eyes widen. Surely, we can’t eat all of it? I’d been so consumed that I hadn’t even been aware. I look at all the food, and my stomach growls.

He winks at me, his white teeth flashing at me as he smiles. The man is deadly.

“Okay, just for a little while,” I concede in a hushed tone.

Digs smiles as he hands out plates. “Come sit. Tell us about you.”

I frown and sit down. Mako on one side of me and Tyr on the other. We’re all on the couches. No one bothers even trying to clear the table of all the notes and books Mako and Tyr moved there.

Tyr is naturally quiet when he’s not working. Mako, I’m guessing, is quiet all the time. He’s got those eyes that just take in everything. And he’s taking me in, weighing me up. I want to know what he finds.

“What do you want to know?” I ask, turning back to Digs.

“I want to know why you are writing songs for other bands and not for yourself.” Digs drops the bomb on the table along with all the food.

I swallow hard; the food forgotten. “Okay. That was a, yeah, nice start. You like the deep end of the pool, don’t you, Digs? Well, I have reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“Digs!” Envy hisses.

It’s maybe the third time he’s spoken since I’ve been here. I drag my eyes off the strange alpha and focus on the big one.

“Fine, my father is the owner of Alpha Labels, and he doesn’t think I have the talent. ”

There’s a huge silence. “You’re Typhor Raines’ daughter? You’re one of the massive Raines family?” Tyr chokes out.

I duck my head, nodding. “Yes.”

“That’s bullshit!” Digs snarls. “You clearly have talent. Just show him.”

“Why not try other labels?” Mako asks.

I shudder at the sound of his voice. It does all sorts of things to me. I serve myself some salad instead, refusing to look at him. “One whisper from my father killed that option.”

“But what about Derision’s-”

“My father doesn’t know about me moonlighting as a songwriter, and I’d like to keep it that way. You understand the contract you signed? Specifically 23A?” My temper snarls out in an ice cold voice I’ve perfected over the years.

“Yes, we’re not to reveal your connection to the song ever,” Digs says and gestures with his fork. “Doesn’t mean I’m not curious to understand why all this talent is being wasted.”

“I get to do what I love. You get rich. We’re all happy. Who is losing?”

Digs drops a chicken breast on my plate and scowls at me. “I think you’re losing. I don’t approve of this. You deserve better.”

I stare at him. “With all due respect, Alpha, you don’t know me. I could be a monster who pours alcohol down my throat and ruins other people’s careers.”

“Are you?” Digs shoots back.

I hesitate and finally deflate. “No, but it’s not the point.”

“Seems precisely the point. I trust my instincts. My instincts say that you’re good people.”

I open and close my mouth but, in the end, shake my head and cut up the breast.

The food is divine, but I barely taste anything. They throw question after question at me. What was working with Locke like? What music do I love the most? Can I play instruments?

It turns out I have the same taste in music as Mako. Envy and I can both play almost any instruments, finding it comes naturally. While Mako can only play the guitar and drums. Digs is a bassist and can also play an electric. But he, Tyr, and Envy are the singers.

Digs continues to lead the conversation while the others watch me. I feel slightly like I’m being investigated.

Tyr leans forward suddenly to where Envy is sitting and draws his face towards him. I freeze, a forkful of food raised halfway to my mouth. They both lean forward, and their lips touch. The kiss is so in sync that there is no question that they’ve done this before, many times.

It is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen, and I’m instantly aroused, jealous, and shocked, and frantically racing to cover any sign of it leaking out .

“You’re a pack?” I ask in a squeaky voice.

“Is that a problem?” Mako asks in an icy tone.

I shake my head, accidentally dislodging the hair tie and letting my hair loose. “No, it’s just the status was unknown in the files. I didn’t think it was polite to ask.”

Tyr sits back, and now I have all eyes on me.

“Are you all together?” I blurt out.

Fuck, why did I ask that?

“Yes, we’re all together.”

“You met because you all live in Carmine, right? So, you formed a pack? Why haven’t you told anyone?”

I’m completely baffled by them. If I had a pack, I’d shout it to the world, but the only way I’d consider it is if they were a miracle.

“We will when we’re ready.”

I shake my head but continue eating, pretending like I don’t find the idea of them all being pack mildly horrifying in that it’s so appealing.

I chew slowly, studiously refusing to let things get weird. Eventually, they continue, too, and the conversations start up again. Light, safe topics like music and movies.

It’s weird, but it’s nice. It’s different nice, though, and I find myself not wanting to leave. Time slides past, and I have no reason to delay my departure anymore. It’s late, and I have work tomorrow.

But I really like these guys.

I stand at the door, staring up at Digs.

“If you need help, call out. I’ll come,” I say and curse myself a dozen times for saying something so stupid and corny. Why would they need help from me?

Digs smiles widely and pulls me into another hug. This time, I hug him back, relaxing into his hold.

“We’re going to be good friends, Miss Raines.”

“Call me Ryn.”

“Ryn,” he says my name reverently. “It’s a beautiful name.”

I have to fight the urge to preen, but then he lets me go. I wave to the others and step back, disappearing from their lives like I was never there.

And that is exactly the point. Ryn Raines is a ghost.

I am a ghost. But that was the first step. An in with a band that is rising and could be exactly the kind of band that can take me all the way to stardom and fame.

They’re going to be my ticket to freedom.