32. Cyrus
Chapter thirty-two
"Shut the fuck up, you motherfucking cocksucking asshole!" Simon roars, throwing his controller onto the floor.
Icarus holds his hands up, his face twisted in amusement. "Calm down, Slime, it was just a star," he says placatingly. "You still have four turns left to get another or steal it back."
"You know you can't do much in four turns of Mario Party!" Simon glares at the man. "That's it, you're not allowed in the pack."
"Oh shut up, Slime," Rafe says from his reclined position on the couch beside Icarus. "It's just a game."
"All of you are ganging up on poor old Luigi!" he whines, flopping back onto the ground, his legs sprawled around him.
The easy camaraderie and jokes make me feel sixteen again. I snatch my eyes away from the green-haired Alpha and take my turn under the skeptical eye of my competitive packmate.
"I'm watching you, Cyrus. Stay away from my coins," Simon growls from the floor.
I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the game. Bowser punches the die, moves four spaces, and gets six coins when I land on a blue space. "You're really going to try to toss Icarus out of the pack because of a game of Mario Party?" I nudge him with my toe. "Seems like a surefire way to lose Jordan again."
Simon stiffens and hands his controller to Icarus. "Here, Russ, play as me. Make sure you give yourself all my coins and stars."
Icarus barks out a laugh, shaking his head and pushing the controller back to Simon. "Thanks for the offer, but I can win just fine without sabotaging you." He turns his attention to the 2x2 game that queues up on the screen. "And Russ, huh? A nickname feels serious, and this is only the first date, Slime."
The Alpha chuckles, brushing some of his green hair from his eyes."Well, you said I can't call you Vick," Simon says with a shrug. "And Icarus is a mouthful. So, Russ. Or I can get you into the Hawks and get you a cut and a road name."
"Oh yes, Dr. Icarus Valentine is definitely someone who would join the Hawks," I say with a snort. "But then again, I wouldn't have thought you'd end up in a club like that, Simon."
Simon climbs to his feet and grabs us all beers from the kitchen, smiling down at me as he presses one into my hand. "You'd be surprised, but it's not like books and movies. Most of us are not enforcers."
"Enforcer?" Icarus asks, picking at the label on his beer. "Like… muscle?"
"Yeah, the muscle," Simon chuckles. "I am not the muscle." He gestures to his slim build. "I work in the body shop and keep the books."
"Putting that finance degree to good use?" Rafe says with a soft smile. Both of them have degrees in it, but Rafe works in the sector. I'm surprised Simon found a way to use it in the MC club.
The evening continues like this, with us trading barbs and peppering light conversation in with information about us. It's shocking how well Icarus fits in. It's like he's always been a part of us.
"Okay, I have to ask," Icarus asks between bites of pizza. "Are any of you guys together together?"
Simon and Rafe freeze, slices halfway to their faces. I lower my meat lover's slice and blink in confusion.
"Why?" Rafe asks slowly.
Icarus wipes his face with a paper towel and shrugs. "Studies show roughly thirty percent of packs have inner pack relationships outside of their Omega. In fact, it has been shown to correlate to positive health outcomes for the Omega. It's fascinating, actually, the science behind it. Alpha pheromones are what ease an Omega during her heat and periods of stress, and when two Alphas are together, the pheromone output is more than just theirs combined. Actually-"
"Woah, Doc," I say, finding my voice and chuckling. "There's nothing like that between us. Is the lecture your way of telling us something?"
He snorts and takes a long drag of his beer. "No, I am, in fact, not into men. Something Jordan has lamented a time or two before."
"Jordan wishes you'd hook up with one of us?" Simon's voice sounds strained, his pizza all but abandoned on the coffee table. "She said that?"
"You're going to be blown away at what Jordan is into," he teases. "Jordan is a pleasure junkie. So, to watch two people she cares about love and cherish one another? Yeah, she'd want that."
My mind gets stuck on the first half of that sentence, possibilities swirling around me like a haze of lust. "What else is she into? There's no sword crossing here, but maybe we've got some other things…"
He holds up his hand. "Oh, oh no. Not only is it not my business to tell, but I really want to see your faces when she surprises you with it."
"C'mon," I nearly whine. "Give me something to keep me warm at night." Rafe balls up a napkin and throws it at my face but doesn't chastise me. I know he's as interested as I am in knowing what kinks hide in our little Omega.
"No, absolutely not. I probably shouldn't have even mentioned her desire for a polyamorous pack. I don't want to betray her trust."
More and more, Icarus proves to me that he is a good Alpha who cherishes Jordan. I guess since I couldn't be there with her throughout her presentation, Icarus was the next best thing.
The light conversation continues as we finish dinner and then retire to the lounge. Icarus reclines on the couch with a mug of tea. Simon picked up tea bags earlier today for the Alpha, wanting to make him feel more comfortable. He's thoughtful like that.
Simon sits folded up into a pretzel in the chair next to mine, and Rafe perches on the arm of the couch.
"Give it to me straight," Rafe says quietly. "Is she ever going to forgive us?"
Icarus ruffles his hair, resting his cup on the coffee table. "Yeah, I think she will. But she doesn't want to, which is where the problem lies."
"Why doesn't she want to forgive us? She said it herself that all she ever wanted was to be with us," I say.
This is the part that's hardest for me to understand. I know we hurt her. I know I hurt her. Most of this is on me, and I'm not shying away from that. My decision and my actions led to the woman I have always loved being heavily traumatized and questioning her own mind.
I'm not trying to downplay that. But why can't we help her heal? Why is she insisting on doing this alone?
"I can't answer that for her," Icarus replies, worrying his hands as he rests his elbows on his knees. "You guys messed up. I know you know that. And I also know you were doing what you thought was right, and it probably would have been if she were a Beta because I know what happened with my sister. There's just something I don't understand."
"What?" Simon asks, his words slightly thick with the emotion that bubbles to the surface whenever we talk about Jordan.
"When did you stop believing in her? You named your pack after her. What changed?"
My packmates look at me, and I duck my head. "It started because I was pissed. Because she wasn't an Omega. Because she should have been ours, and if we had her the way we wanted to, an Omega might make us get rid of her."
Icarus leans forward on his elbows. "I know hindsight is 20/20 and whatnot, but she knew. Why didn't you?"
"I thought I did," Simon replies. "And then we're eighteen and moving to Lunarcrest, and she had to stay behind, and she still hadn't presented. We tried to distance ourselves and set the groundwork for it then. Then we got to university and met some Omegas…"
"And none of them were anything like Jordan," Rafe finishes. "It was sobering. Because how could we have been so wrong? None of them smelled like home, but they had a scent, good or bad. She didn't have one when we left at all. Omega's have a scent."
I scrub my face, remembering the arguments that threatened to pull the pack apart during that time. "Eventually, we thought it was best for her to remove the hope she had. We thought it would be her wake-up call to accept that she wasn't going to be an Omega."
"Instead, it was more damaging than we could have imagined," Simon says quietly. "You have to believe us when we say we really were trying to save Jordan from future pain."
Icarus stands and crosses to the kitchen, dropping his mug in the sink. "I get that. I hope she will, too." He crosses his arms over his broad chest. "I like you guys. I can see this working. But my loyalty is to her."
"Will you at least put in a good word?" My voice betrays my vulnerability.
The Alpha tilts his head to the side. "No. If she asks me what I think, I'll tell her, but otherwise, I will let her make her own decisions." He slips his sneakers on and grabs his keys. "She's had her decisions taken away too many times already. I'm not doing it as well."
ABOSS is alive with the excitement of a live broadcast, but I'm exhausted.
Tonight's match is a rivalry game, but my head isn't in it. A PA hands me a stack of papers, stats, and factoids to drop into today's broadcast, and my eyes cross as I try to read it.
Quinn, my cohost, lowers himself down next to me. The Alpha's dark skin is rich under the studio lights. His braids are gathered with a strap at the back of his neck as he flips through his own pre-game package. "You alright, Cyrus?" he asks.
"Not really," I mutter, throwing my head back. "Actually, no, not at all."
"Penny for your thoughts?" the older Alpha asks. He's in his mid-forties but acts like a friendly grandfather most of the time. "Omega troubles?"
"Yeah, how'd you guess?"
"Only one thing makes an Alpha look like," he gestures up and down, highlighting my whole body, "that."
"Fuck off, old man," I grumble, balling up a piece of paper and tossing it at him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about. I fucked up, and she hasn't forgiven me." Someone from makeup comes over and powders my face, while another woman from hair redoes the bun of curly hair on the top of my head.
"You apologize?" Quinn asks.
"Oh my God, why didn't I think of that?" I drawl, shooting daggers with my eyes. "Of course, I tried to, but she won't let me get the words out."
Makeup moves onto Quinn, and he closes his eyes as they powder his face. "My Omega is stubborn as fuck," he says with a chuckle. "Sometimes, I have to force him to listen. Not give him a choice." He opens one eye and peers at me. "You get what I'm saying?"
No, I don't. I really, really don't understand what he's saying. It's not like I can tie her up and force her to listen to what I have to say.
I mean, I'd love to tie her up, but not for that reason.
Fuck. I can't let my mind drift to how pretty she'd look wrapped in ropes. The last thing I need is to fight a fucking boner while I'm on live television.
A PA approaches the other side of the desk and places her hands on top. "Mr. Stargazer?" she asks gently.
I look up at her, clocking that she's new, but something about her is familiar. Her dark emerald eyes and pouty bottom lip tease the back of my memory. "Yeah?" I ask gruffly.
"I'm Athena, I'm -"
"Icarus' sister," I interrupt. No wonder she looks familiar. Damn, they look alike. "He didn't mention that you work here."
"He doesn't know," she says with a shrug. She crosses her arms over her chest, her black shirt bunching up. She's dressed in all black like all the PAs, and I wonder how long she's been here. What has she seen?
I haven't always been the most professional, and there have been some drama and escapades I've engaged in that I'm not proud of. What if she spills those secrets to Jordan?
Tension ripples along my shoulders, and I have the distinct impression she knows why I suddenly tremble with anxiety when she smirks.
With a sigh, she leans against my desk. "I'm assuming Icarus told you some about my personal life."
It's not a question, but I answer as if it was. "Yeah, he did."
"Yeah, he can't keep his giant, stupid mouth shut," she grumbles and then drops her voice to add, "fucking Icky." Clearing her throat, she pins me with a brutal glare. "I love Jordan as if she's my sister."
"I love her too," I impress upon her. "I always have."
"Well, just know she knows my story." We stare at one another as her words sink in. Comprehension must flash across my face because she adds, "It wasn't easy to share, but she deserved to know the fate you were trying to save her from." Her voice cracks at the end of the sentence, and she ducks her head. "I just thought you should know."
She walks away quickly, and her words spin in my head. How did Jordan react to what Athena went through?
Did she think about how that could have been her?
Will Athena's trauma make Jordan willing to listen a little closer and see our intentions more clearly?
Quinn taps me on the shoulder, shaking me out of my thoughts and pointing out that we're about to go live.
The lights turn up, the red light glows on the camera, and I have an idea that's so stupid it just may work.