Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
EVERY MUSCLE IN my body aches with the most delightful pain as I slowly sit up. The hotel nest smells like sweat and sex, matching the sticky feeling coating my skin. Even though Derek and the alpha with me had convinced me to shower yesterday morning, the evidence of my heat remains. Tracking my eyes across the room, a small smile pulls at my lips. Thanks to the suppressants I’d taken beforehand, I can remember most of what happened, and wow, it was better than I ever imagined.
The nest door opens and I can’t help but to perk up, hoping my mystery alpha has returned. I’m not sure what it is about him, but my omega has developed a bit of an obsession. Sadly, it’s only Derek, my beta helper. He has a bottle of water and medicine in his hands as he steps inside. He straightens when he sees me awake, carefully avoiding looking at my naked body.
“Good morning, Miss Powell. I ordered breakfast to be sent up. If you’d like to shower, you have half an hour before it gets delivered.” He passes me everything he’s carrying before stepping back outside.
Flopping back to the bed, I cringe when I land in a cold, wet spot. Okay, yeah, I definitely need a shower. This is gross.
Tossing back two pain relievers, I crawl through the mess of blankets and head into the adjoining bathroom. I look myself over in the mirror as the water heats, noting the small spattering of bruises and hickeys on my skin. Joy spreads through me, knowing I’ll have a visual reminder of this heat for at least the next few days.
Freshly showered and clean of all the slick, sweat, and cum that covered my body, I gather the few blankets I brought from my nest and toss them in a bag. A knock at the door lets me know food is here, so I join Derek at the small dining table in the main room of the suite. I’m sad when I don’t see the alpha helper, something Derek must notice. He hands me a small handwritten note.
My heart aches reading the confirmation he’s gone, but I brush it aside. Heat helping is temporary, and I don’t have time to find a pack or mates when my career is just taking off.
Derek hands me a card as he leaves, offering future heat services should I need them. I give him my thanks before I send Omen a text to let her know I am headed back to the apartment. She offered to pick me up, but there’s no point in dragging her out to get me.
A weight lifts from my shoulders when I unlock our apartment door and find everything unpacked and organized. I owe Omen big time for taking care of all of this while I was in heat. Her bedroom door isn’t open, so I try to be quiet as I lug my blankets back into my nest. I barely resist the urge to bury my nose in the material to catch a hint of O’s ozone scent. I won’t be able to wash them until his scent fades, a thought that has my lip quivering and tears building in my eyes.
Post heat hormones are a roller coaster I loathe to navigate.
Exhaustion still clings to my bones as I stroll into the Soulbound office. My Monday meeting with my mentor and the band I’ll be co-managing had to be rearranged because of my heat. With the tour starting tomorrow, I have no choice but to come in today, even if I’d much rather be sleeping.
Jane, the secretary for the label, greets me cheerfully on my way in and shows me to the manager’s office. A small desk in the back corner sits empty, with only a file folder with my name on it sitting on top. I thank her and settle into my seat, tossing my sweater over the back.
I’m not there long before Shiloh struts in, the picture of confidence in his dark gray suit and white dress shirt. His hair is styled away from his face and a pair of dark-framed glasses sit on his nose. Fuck, he’s even hotter with them on. What did I ever do to be Fated to work with this untouchable god of a man?
“Good morning, Miss Powell. I’m surprised to see you’ve returned already.” He doesn’t seem surprised, but maybe he’s just hard to read.
“Good morning to you as well. I wanted a chance to meet with Brady and the band before the tour begins tomorrow.”
His lips turn down slightly at the corners as he studies me. “I was under the impression omega heats last longer than two days.”
“It was a suppressed heat.” My cheeks heat with my admission, as if talking about my heat is taboo.
“And your recovery period after?”
When I hesitate, he lets out a “tsk,” and shakes his head. The cold, scolding look he levels at me should not make me wet, but damn, am I dripping. “Sabine, it is of the utmost importance to the staff here at Soulbound that you take care of yourself. Including giving your body the time it needs to rest and heal after something as physically strenuous as a heat.”
My lips thin as I fight back the argument I can feel brewing in my mind. He’s technically correct. My heat leave has an allowance for recovery time, so I didn’t have to come to work today. I want to be here, though. If I’m stuck at home, I’ll wallow in the misery I feel after my mystery alpha helper disappeared, an action that won’t benefit anyone.
“I understand and appreciate your concern, Mr. Acherley, but I assure you I would not have come in if I felt my schedule for the day would be too taxing. I’m only here long enough to meet with Brady and introduce myself to Orbital Somatic.”
Shiloh sighs, his jaw tense, but he concedes. He leaves a stack of papers on my desk, mentioning they have all the information I will need for our early departure tomorrow. “I expect you out of the office by lunch time, Sabine.”
I scowl at his retreating form, rubbing at my temples. That man lives to be a pain in my ass, doesn’t he?
“You look tired, kid.”
I jolt at the rugged voice addressing me. An older alpha stands before my desk, his hip leaning against the desk opposite mine and his arms crossed over his chest. He has short, graying hair, a closely trimmed beard, and a strong jaw. He’s fairly attractive, but his sharp black currant scent overpowers my senses.
“Brady Moore,” he offers me a hand as he introduces himself.
“Bea Powell.”
“Well, Miss Powell, I’ve heard good things about you from the production teams. I hope you bring that same determination to the managerial staff.”
I beam, nodding my agreement.
“I’m sure Shiloh expects us to sit in the office and go over all the paperwork he left you, but that sounds like a shit day to me. Let’s head downstairs and meet with the band. I made them come in early to practice.”
My smile doesn’t fade as I follow behind him. I think I’m going to enjoy having Brady as my mentor. He seems like he knows how to have fun. Work-life balance is important, especially when you’re an omega.
The ride to the second floor is short and quiet, only the soft elevator music fills the air. When we step into the hallway where the studios are, it’s chaos. At least compared to the silence of the third floor. People hustle everywhere down here. Always moving from one project to the next. Bands are always in and out of the studios, as are the producers.
When Brady stops outside of the third door and clicks it open, I have to fight back a teasing grin. Manny, the beta producer I recently discovered has a Mateability account, sits inside. He raises one eyebrow when he sees me, his eyes narrowing at whatever he sees in my expression.
“They good for a break?” Brady asks him, pointing to the sound room.
I follow his finger and take in the five members of Orbital Somatic. Their lead singer is close to my height with curly, bleached-blonde hair on top of his head. He’s busy talking to their keyboardist, while the guitarist and bassist are playing random notes on their instruments in what I assume is an attempt to annoy their bandmates. Their drummer is leaning back at his kit, his tattooed arms crossed behind his hair and his eyes closed.
If I had to describe Orbital Somatic in one word upon seeing them, I think bisexual disaster works best. These men scream bi-awakening, and I understand why the label jumped to lock them into a contract as quickly as they did. If these men can help shape the world’s comfort with sexuality, that would be the biggest win of all.
Manny presses the button to turn on the speaker and calls them back out. Their heads snap to where I stand beside Brady, so I straighten my back and smooth out my expression. Every one of these men, regardless of their designation, is going to understand from day one that I’m not the omega to mess with. I mean business, and starting tomorrow, their brand is in my hands.
Tread carefully, musical hotties. I can wreck you as easily as I can boost you into stardom.
“Boys, I’d like you to meet the new assistant band manager, Miss Powell. She’ll be in charge of your care throughout the tour, and I’ll be helping guide her as needed.” Brady steps to the side to allow me to speak, making sure all of their attention remains on me.
“Hello Orbital Somatic, I look forward to working with you. Please call me Bea.”
The lead singer offers me his tattoo covered hand, the sight sending a misplaced pang through my heart as O’s hand running across my chest flashes through my mind. “Caleb Michaels. Lead singer and leader of this makeshift pack.”
The rest of the band takes turns introducing themselves. They seem chill, if playful and chaotic. I can work with their energy easily. Touring with Primordial Covenant should be a great platform to launch them toward success. If their music is up to par.
“Okay, back in the sound booth. Run me through your set list for the tour.”
They groan but comply, shoving each other as they jostle their way back to their instruments. I pull up a chair next to Manny and ignore the side eye he’s giving me. This is my show now. He can get whatever he needs from them while I listen.
Several songs in, I’m surprised by how much I enjoy their music. They’re a blend of emotional alternative rock and melodic metalcore with hints of musical theater woven in. Omen will love their stuff if she hasn’t already heard of them.
When Manny finally calls their session to an end, Brady returns with an order for me to call it a day. “I emailed you everything you need to know for tomorrow morning, including where to meet us. Go get some rest. We’re going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
He waves me off when I thank him for his help, so I head back upstairs to grab my purse. Manny steps into the elevator beside me, stretching his arms and back after sitting for several hours. “Want to tell me why you looked like you were itching to bust my balls when you walked into my studio?”
My lips twitch as I fight and cannot suppress a laugh. “I found your heat helper profile,” I admit. “I wasn’t aware 5’10 is the same as 6’1.”
He rolls his eyes as we step out of the elevator. “All men exaggerate their height, Bea. It’s what we do.”
“Mhmm, sure. If you say so.”
“Like women don’t do the same. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you prefer to wear heels to tower over the rest of us.”
I shrug as I head back to the office. He isn’t wrong. Heels make my legs look amazing, but they also instill a confidence I haven’t found without them. Plus, they’re badass and act as a weapon in case of an emergency. The four-inch stilettos on my feet right now could certainly take out an eye if I swung them hard enough.
Shiloh steps into the hall as I am walking back to the office. His warm brown eyes find mine, creasing at the edges as he gives me a stern glare. “Sabine, I presume you are leaving for the day?” He tilts his head slightly, making a loose strand of his hair fall down across his temple. It’s adorable, and makes me want to run my fingers through each strand, messing them until he looks as rumpled as I feel standing beside him.
“Yes, Mr. Acherley. I promised I would leave before lunch,” I remind him.
“Do make sure you rest well for tomorrow. I expect you at the bus lot by 9 am.” Yet again, he doesn’t wait for my response as he ducks into another office and closes the door behind him. I’m torn between wanting to poke him for always being cold and abrupt, or begging him to knot me so I can see what it looks like when he falls apart. Both of which are not HR approved thoughts for the workplace.
A nap, a glass of wine, and trash reality TV should help shake off these lingering heat hormones.