Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I’ve been caught up in my slow-building relationship with Hannah, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been blind to the struggle my best friend is going through.
Omen’s rejection is wearing her down, cracking her foundation, and shattering her into irreparable pieces.
The medicine her doctor prescribed has helped to slow her downward spiral, but it’s a temporary solution.
The only permanent fix for the rejection is for her mates to pull their heads out of their asses.
When they called me a few days ago, I was shocked to hear that Bea is barring them from speaking with or seeing Omen. How is she supposed to survive if her mates can’t even apologize properly?
Stepping into Bea and Omen’s apartment, I cross my arms over my chest and narrow a sharp glare on Bea. “Have you been stopping Pack Graves from seeing Omen?”
Her head snaps toward me, lips pinched. “Those bastards won’t get within a hundred feet of her. They had their chance to believe in her, to be the mates she needed them to be, and they threw it away. So yes, Foster, I’m standing between her and them.”
“She needs them, Bea!” How she cannot see this, I don’t know. Our best friend is barely hanging on. We will lose her if her mates don’t step in and fix what they broke in her.
Bea throws her arms wide and glares at me. “They tossed her aside like she was trash on their doorstep! She deserves better than those assholes!”
Do I agree with her? Yes. That doesn’t change the role Pack Graves must play in Omen’s future. “Maybe so, but that isn’t an option!”
“She’s doing better, Foster! I will not allow them to come rushing back into her life so they can hurt her all over again.” Tears line Bea’s eyes, and for the first time, I see how close she is to breaking.
We all feel it—the fear. Watching Omen give up in the livestream, welcoming death as if it were inevitable, broke us all. Am I afraid those assholes will make her situation worse? Kind of. They could ruin her as easily as they could fix her.
“Omen isn’t doing better, she just isn’t getting worse! The medicine they gave her is only a temporary solution, not a cure. The only way to guarantee she gets better is to fix the bond with her mates.”
“I won’t risk putting her through this again. We will find another way.”
Her stubbornness has a growl ripping through my teeth.
A hand tears through my hair, mussing the carefully sculpted strands.
“It isn’t our decision to make! Don’t you see that?
Omen needs to choose which path to take for herself.
Something she can’t do with you blocking them from even speaking with her! ”
Omen appears then, stepping out of the hallway.
Her skin is still too pale, and the circles beneath her eyes make my breath catch.
I barely hear her response to Bea as my eyes track every detail of her health.
I hadn’t been with Hannah when she came to visit a few days ago, so I wasn’t aware of how things had stagnated.
She might not be getting worse, but she sure as hell isn’t getting better.
“What time do we need to leave?” Omen asks, changing the topic away from her mates. A tiny part of me wants to warn her they will likely be at the concert, but I’m afraid she will change her mind and retreat to her nest, so I keep my mouth shut.
“We should leave as soon as you’re ready,” I tell her.
Three and a half hours later, we’re seated on the balcony of the concert venue, watching as fans fill the open floor below us.
A small table sits between Omen and me, with Bea on her other side.
Both girls dance happily in their seats, though Omen’s movements are tenser, showing how exhausted she is.
Since this is a small show, there is no opening band. The stage lights change to pinks and purples, signaling the start of Candy Courage’s set, and the chaos begins. I groove with my besties as they sing and dance, getting lost in the lyrics and the chaos the band creates when they’re on stage.
Watching Omen relax with a smile stretched across her face, I silently thank Bea for arranging tonight. Our girl needed this.
A few songs into the set, fury pulses through my bond with Shepherd. So fierce I nearly drop my drink. I scramble to grab my phone and send him a text. He doesn’t respond immediately, but I get a quick burst of reassurance through the bond that helps to calm me.
Another song ends, and the band’s pink-haired bassist takes the mic, purring into it. “Guess what? We have a special surprise for you tonight! Some friends of ours asked if they could come to our show and perform with us.”
Oh, shit! They didn’t!
“Apparently, they owe one of you one hell of an apology.”
Biting back a groan, I keep my face blank when Bea sucks in a sharp breath and looks at me with panicked eyes.
I can tell she’s ready to bolt, to take Omen and flee, but I can’t let her do that.
Not only because Pack Graves needs this chance to make things right, but also because Omen is enjoying herself.
“You want to do the honors, Zale?” The bassist asks the lead singer, turning so their lips almost brush, sending the crowd into a roar of approval.
“Yes!” the exuberant blonde singer shouts, pumping her fist into the air. “Please welcome our close friends—a band you may recognize from our last tour—Primordial Covenant!”
Omen turns to stone beside me, barely breathing as she watches her masked mates walk onto the stage.
They join Candy Courage, eyes scanning the crowd.
Searching for us. For her. Tiny hints of her sunflower and honeysuckle scent spike into the air, wilted and decaying to match the pain in her heart.
She crouches lower to hide behind the railing, but it doesn’t work.
Each of her mates can sense where she is and glance in her direction.
They collab with Azalea, filling the venue with dark, heavy beats and sensual vocals. It’s a banger. One they should totally drop on an album.
After the song ends, the guy’s head backstage while the band finishes out their set. Shepherd finally texts me back a few songs later, promising everything is okay. His bond still feels tender, angry, but I trust him to protect our pack. If he needed me at home, he’d tell me.
When the venue lights turn back on, signaling the end of the show, I glance down at our backstage passes and send up a silent hope that Fate won’t let those assholes mess this up.
The drive back to the girl’s apartment is quiet.
Contemplative. Bea and I had sat in on Omen’s reunion with Pack Graves for a few minutes, but then I had to drag Bea out after she kept scoffing and talking shit over the guy’s apologies.
We’d argued in the hallway, and I finally convinced her to give them a chance to heal Omen.
Something we all desperately want to see happen.
“Are you sure you don’t want to crash here?” Bea asks when I drop them off at their place.
My head shakes as I decline her offer. I’m ready to be home and curled up with my pack. And I need to know what sent my Alpha into a rage earlier. Curiosity and concern have taken my thoughts in a million directions since we left the concert venue.
“Call me tomorrow and let me know how she’s feeling.”
Bea nods, sending a worried glance down the hall toward Omen’s room.
She blindly walked away from us when we got here, not even stopping to say goodnight.
Neither of us holds it against her, not when we know how emotionally wrecking tonight was for her.
All I can do is hope that Pack Grave’s apology was enough to earn a chance to make things right.
And if they decide to mess this up, to hurt her again, they won’t only have Bea’s wrath to face this time.
When I get home, I hurry to the elevator and impatiently wait for it to take me to the right floor.
There’s a sense of urgency as I slide my key into the lock and swing the door open.
It’s quiet inside, which isn’t surprising given the late hour, but the light is on in my bedroom.
I slip my shoes off and pad inside, sighing when I see my Alpha sitting against the headboard, watching a football game with the volume muted.
“Come here, Omega,” he grunts, opening his arms and legs to welcome me against him. “How was the concert?”
He listens as I explain everything. The fight with Bea, the show, the meeting with Pack Graves. His hand glides through my sweat-drenched hair, detangling the messy strands. It’s soothing. Mixed with the calming burst of his Alpha pheromones, my eyes and my body feel heavy.
“What happened earlier?” I ask around a yawn. There’s no way I can sleep until I’ve showered, so I slip off the bed, tugging him along behind me. He follows easily, but doesn’t talk until the water is on, and I’m stepping beneath the spray.
“Colin showed up.”
Soap slips from my hands and onto the floor as I stare at the shower door, pulse pounding wildly. “He what? Here? I thought he was in FCDA custody?”
Shep shrugs, but his shoulders are tense. He’s as pissed now as he was earlier. “He should have been. Donovan says his lawyer got him released, but the investigating is ongoing.”
Of course, they got him released. I hope the DAU agents combing through the Montgomery residence and church can find evidence to pin that prick to the wall. The sooner he is permanently not a problem for Hannah, the better.
“Are they okay? Hannah and our princess?” I cut off the water and step out, walking into the towel he holds open for me.
Molten eyes meet mine, so deep that I feel like I’m swimming through rivers of gold. I steal a quick kiss. Nothing too deep, just a bite of affection to tide me over until we collapse into bed and I feel his body weight pressed against mine.