Chapter 12
Cheers surround me as I grip the mic in my hand, eyes closed to bask in the momentum of this moment. Deep in my chest, I feel the pulses of love and joy my girl is sending me. With her support, I can accomplish anything.
My voice carries over the crowd as I sing, getting lost in the music. I grin at Havoc as I move past him on the stage. The thrill of performing, of hearing our fans sing along, this is a dream come true!
I slip the mic back into the stand and take several steadying breaths as the rest of the band finishes out the song.
The grin on my face slips when the most brutal pain shatters through my chest and head.
My breath turns ragged, my knees collapsing beneath me.
I can’t hear the crowd or my bandmates, only static as I feel my beautiful girl’s bond rip from my chest. Agony fills my body, making every breath, every slight movement hurt worse than the last.
Tears soak my cheeks, blurring my vision as I claw at my chest. Desperation has my nails digging into my skin, trying to get my connection to Ren back. Nothing I do helps. She’s gone. The hollow part of my soul that belonged to her swells, crashing over me until I feel nothing at all.
Numb. That’s what I am. The world is passing me by, both out the window of Shiloh’s car and in a general sense. The sooner we get to Mia’s office, the better. I don’t know if I can pull myself out of this spiral alone.
Shiloh stops outside of a small house that belongs to Bea’s other mate’s friend. No one is home. He seems frustrated when he climbs back into the car, but I can’t bring myself to ask why.
Does it really matter?
Fifteen minutes later, the familiar sight of my therapist’s office looms before me. It’s late, nearly closing time, but Mia is staying for an emergency session with me. Shiloh follows me into the building, hovering as I sign in with the receptionist.
“You don’t have to stay,” I mumble as I take a seat in the lobby.
His head tilts, eyes questioning as they study me. “Call me if you need a ride home, or if you would feel better using my guest room for the night.”
I wave him off, having no intention of bringing my misery into his home. We may share a Fate-matched mate, but obviously, his relationship with her is not as all-consuming as what I feel.
Time ticks by, blurring from one moment to the next. Finally, the office door opens and Mia’s current patient leaves. He’s familiar somehow, though I can’t place where we’ve met before. He gives me a nod of greeting as he passes me on his way to the exit.
“Orion?” Mia calls my name, drawing my attention away from the other Alpha.
Pushing to my feet, I shuffle down the hall and collapse into a chair in her office. She follows, quietly closing the door before taking a seat across from me. Dark green eyes study me intensely for several moments before she sighs. “You’re repressing your emotions.”
Am I? Or do I just not feel anything at all?
“Let’s start there. I want you to close your eyes and really focus on how you feel. Name those emotions, then we can work on processing them.”
Doing as she asks, I try to look past the wall of numbness encapsulating my heart. Small cracks allow me to peek through, though I still cannot grasp anything inside fully.
“Fear,” I admit. “Bitterness. Regret.”
“Why are you afraid?”
Looking down at my feet, I thread my hands together and squeeze them tight. “Bea is missing and hurt. I felt her pain through our connection. It was… horrifying and intense. Then it stopped. Now, I can’t feel her at all.”
“And you don’t think that is a good thing?”
My head flies up, a frown on my lips. Mia just watches me with a curious expression. “No. Why would it be good? If she-” I cut myself off, panic clogging my throat as images of a blood-covered Bea flash through my mind, her blue eyes dull. “I need to know.”
“Even if that would mean experiencing another bond break?” Mia asks.
Shuddering, I consider her question. Would it be worth that agony? “Yes, even then. At least I would know she wasn’t truly alone. She would have my bond in her chest. Whatever small comfort that would provide her.”
Mia beams at me, deepening my frown. Sometimes therapy confuses me. Poking wounds that are already bleeding to get to the core of their pain doesn’t seem like a smart thing to do.
“You said you also feel bitter. Can you explain why?”
“It’s bullshit,” I spit. “Two Fate-matched mates granted to me, and both taken away far too soon.”
Mia’s smile turns sad, just a small pull of her lips. “As much as we may try, there is little we can do to change the path Fate has laid out for us. With that said, I want to remind you of one very important detail: we do not know Bea’s current condition.”
Pursing my lips, I lean back against the chair and run one hand through my hair, messing the tangled strands further. “It’s hard to convince myself of that.”
“It is, but I need you to try. Repeat it to yourself every time your mind pictures the worst-case scenario.”
Nodding, I let my eyes close once more and repeat her words several times. The reminder works a little, relieving some of the pressure weighing against my chest, but I won’t be able to truly believe it until I see Bea with my own eyes. Preferably safe and uninjured.
Warm amber liquid fills the glass sitting on my coffee table. I shouldn’t have bought it. The temptation to drown myself in alcohol is too great.
This is the point where I should call Shiloh. Or my old sponsor back in California. I know he would answer.
But I don’t pick up my phone. I just stare at the glass, warring with myself.
My session with Mia helped. For a while.
Talking about how Bea’s disappearance makes me feel allowed me to overcome the numbness suffocating my mind, but it also tore open old wounds.
I can’t breathe without feeling their pain.
Bea and Ren. It echoes in my mind, crashing against my sense of reasoning like the waves of a hurricane battering the shore.
I need the numbness back. It blocks all of this suffering. Drowns the negative thoughts screaming in my head.
My hand trembles as I reach for the glass, knowing I’m throwing away nearly three years of sobriety if I drink it.
I jolt when someone knocks on my door, knuckles hitting the glass and sending it crashing to the floor. Alcohol spills along the hardwood, soaking my feet.
Cursing, I rush to the kitchen and grab a rag to clean up the mess. Another knock interrupts me on my way back to the living room, so I detour to see who it is. Swinging the door open, I nearly drop the cleaning products clasped in my hands when I come face to face with my father.
“Orion.”
“Dad?”
He glances down at everything I’m carrying before asking if he can come in. I haven’t spoken to my parents since Ren passed. Talking to them meant talking about her, and I wasn’t ready to live with those reminders that she was gone.
Stepping back, I let him slip inside before I close the door. When I turn around, his eyes are narrowed on the bottle of whiskey sitting open on the coffee table. Ducking my head, I hurry to clean up my spilled drink.
“Venus called me. One of her mates saw you buying that.” He jerks his head toward the table and crosses his arms over his chest. “What happened?”
My hands pause mid-wipe, heart racing as the memory of Bea’s pain crashes over me again. Quick, panting breaths heave from my chest. I can’t move, can’t think.
“Son?” Dad crouches beside me, his palm resting gently on my shoulder. I look over at his familiar face and take a deep, ragged breath. His short brown hair is the same shade as mine when I let it grow out, and we have the same amber eyes, though mine are brighter than his.
“I-” The words get clogged in my throat, and a sob comes out in their place. Dad pulls me against his chest, holding me tight as I break down.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A rust purr rattles in his chest as he holds me, letting me get all of my tears out. When sobs turn to sniffles, his deep voice resonates against my ear. “It’s alright, Orion. I’m here now.”
My heart feels lighter when I pull away and scrub the tears from my face. “Sorry. Having your grown, Alpha son sob on you must not be-”
Dad lightly whacks the top of my head, giving me a narrow-eyed look. “There is no toxic masculinity in the Walker household.”
Offering him a shaky smile, I lean against the front of the couch and push the now-empty glass across the table. “Everything is a mess.”
“I know little about what you’re going through, but I know alcohol isn’t the answer.”
I nod. “Yeah. I didn’t drink any of it, but… I was going to. Before you knocked.”
“Then I’m glad I came when I did.”
I watch as he climbs to his feet, groaning when the joints in his knees crack. He grabs the glass and the bottle and carries them to the kitchen. I can’t see him, but I hear him emptying the bottle into the sink. Taking away the temptation I nearly gave in to.
Pulling myself up onto the couch, I rest my elbows on my knees and wait for him to return. When he does, it’s like a dam breaks. Everything I’ve been through, all of my heartache and worry from the past two years, spills from my lips. Telling him about Bea brings tears back to my eyes.
Dad squeezes my forearm, not interrupting, but silently offering his support and understanding.
“She’s missing. Taken by someone we suspect is connected to the breeding ring that has been kidnapping people along the East Coast for the past several months. And she’s hurt. The pain-”
“That Fated connection type is as much a curse as it is a blessing,” Dad says.
“If I could’ve changed it for you, I would have.
” He shakes his head with a very disgruntled look on his face.
It’s gone, replaced by his usual stoicism when he looks back at me.
“So your Omega is missing. What can you do to help?”
“I- nothing? She’s gone, Dad.”
“Being hurt and dead ain’t the same thing, kid.”