Chapter Twenty-Seven
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LYING AGAINST MY headboard, I rest one hand behind my head and stare up at the ceiling. My apartment feels empty. Lifeless. The bare walls and sparse furniture lack the warmth of a true home, reminding me of how alone I feel here.
New York City was once my haven. The place where the other half of my soul flourished. When Ren’s light went out, I found solace in routine. It’s only now that I realize I’ve been coasting by on a never ending to-do list instead of actually living.
My alarm chirps beside me, and I slowly climb from my bed. Instead of heading to the label for work, I have a therapy appointment this morning. I’ve increased from monthly to bi-weekly visits since that night in Fairytale. Realizing the pull I feel towards Bea has deeper roots than the scent of her heat has shaken me to my core.
That was nearly six weeks ago. With the band she manages touring the West Coast, there have been few opportunities for us to talk about the connection between us. Not that I would know what to say. I proved as much when I ran into her in the manager’s office last week.
My therapist, Mia, is an older beta with grayish-white hair and a kind smile. She came highly recommended by the label, having worked with other artists in the past. Her specialty is grief, which makes her the best candidate to take over my sessions with my previous therapist in California.
Sitting in the small waiting room, I see another alpha sitting across from me. His strong jaw is clenched tight, fingers clenched into fists where his arms are crossed over his chest. He’s wide and tall, looking more like traditional alphas than my lithe frame. The bounce in his knee belies his nervousness. It throws me back to the first time I sat in an office like this. Overwhelmed with loss and struggling to accept I needed help.
Unlike this alpha, I hadn’t stayed. I walked right back out of the office and drowned myself in alcohol. A decision that nearly cost me everything.
“Orion Walker,” the receptionist calls. I give the other alpha a quick nod, hoping he can see in my eyes that this is the right path to take.
Mia is sitting in a cozy gray armchair. The bright oranges and yellows of her outfit the only splash of color in the blank room. She uses this tactic to keep her client’s attention on her. Drawing their eyes with bright colors and putting them at ease with her welcoming demeanor.
“Orion! It’s wonderful to see you! How are you feeling this morning?”
I take a seat on the dark couch across from her, resting my elbows on my knees. “I’m… as lost as ever,” I admit.
She nods, sitting aside her yellow legal pad. There is a weight in the air, one filled with all of the guilt and regret clogging my head. “Have you seen Bea since your meeting in her office last week?”
My head shakes in denial. “No. I know she had to take some time off. Her friend…” I trail off, unsure if it is my place to share the secrets I’ve learned. I push forward, remembering our conversations are confidential. The need to get my worries off my chest is stronger than my concern for secrecy. “That omega who was live streamed fighting Pastor Montgomery? That’s Bea’s best friend. She’s been away from the office to help with the aftermath.”
Mia hums, but doesn’t comment.
“I’m worried about her. Bea, that is. Being close to one of the Montgomerys paints a target on her back.”
“It is natural for an alpha to feel protective of his omega when they perceive a danger in their vicinity. What can you do to alleviate that need?”
I stare at the floor, thinking things through. Suddenly pushing my way into Bea’s life won’t do us any good. She deserves an apology for the distance I’ve kept between us, and an explanation about my history, before I try to earn a place in her pack.
“Talking to her would help.”
Mia helps me brainstorm. Picking apart my reluctance to approach Bea directly, while finding a way to balance the needs of my designation. The timer on her computer rings, signaling the end of our session.
“Orion, I am going to leave you with one final question. Are you afraid to pursue your connection to Bea because you have bonded with an omega in the past and feel it is unfair to others who haven’t gotten to experience bonded life? Or are you afraid of the possibility of repeating the devastation you felt when you lost Serenity?”
I swallow thickly, giving her a sharp nod as I head out the door. Is she right? Am I using the unfairness of Fate as an excuse to hide my actual fear of losing Bea the way I lost Ren?
Walking down the street, I veer into a local park. The August heat doesn’t feel as oppressive after living in California. Sweat still soaks my back, but it is comforting. The feeling of the sun shining down on my skin reminds me I’m here. I’m alive, capable of living the life I always dreamed of. I just have to be brave enough to reach out and claim it.
Reaching the other end of the park, I take a seat on a bench by a small pond and let my mind wander to the past. To memories of Ren. She was quiet chaos. A whirlwind hidden behind a polite smile and soft eyes. School valedictorian and a lauded dancer, everyone around her claimed she was the perfect omega.
No one ever suspected she was the mastermind behind our pranks. They never saw her spraying paint on an underpass in the dead of night. Nor did they get to witness her dumping bags of glitter covered balloons in the principal’s office during our senior year of high school.
That side of her, the one who reveled in light-hearted pranks and minor criminal activity, was just for me.
I miss her like crazy. The hole in my heart where her bond belongs will never heal. There will always be a jagged piece of my soul missing. But does having loved and lost once before mean I no longer deserve to love again?
Ren would smack me in the back of the head and call me an idiot for wondering if pursuing Bea would hurt her. My Ren would never want me to spend my life mourning her. Alone and barely getting by. She would want me to live. To surround myself in joy and love.
Ordering a ride to the label, I promise myself I’m going to try. I won’t be ready to bond Bea anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take the time to get to know her.
My office line rings with an internal call. I answer, assuming it will be one of the marketing directors or band managers with a question about the projects I am involved in. Instead, it is Shiloh’s voice on the other end.
“Are you available to come up to my office?”
I quickly agree. This is the perfect excuse for going up to the third floor. With luck, I might run into Bea while I am there.
The manager’s office is dark and empty, earning a sigh of disappointment as I walk by. Shiloh’s office is bright, his door already open. I knock on the frame, alerting him to my presence. “Close the door behind you, please.”
Curious, I do as he asks before leaning against the side of the chair opposite him. I’ve spent too much time sitting today. I’m starting to feel restless.
“Harold Wells called me with a… unique request.”
Harry is one of the band managers at Soulbound’s West Coast branch. He’s a decent guy, if a little too focused on the amount his bands earn. “Oh?”
“Have you heard news of the recent anti-designation attack at a Los Angeles gallery promoting the broad spectrum of designations?”
I shake my head. Keeping up with what is happening around me is important, but I get highlights from independent news stations instead of following mainstream media. Most of them run anti-pack propaganda, making them faulty sources of information.
“They hit a popular gallery during their Saturday showing of a photography collection built to highlight on the gray areas between designations. Omegas who lean towards alpha tendencies, betas towards omegas, etc. One of the gallery curators was the bonded omega of the lead singer of Belemorph.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, my heart aches knowing what Dorian and his packmates are going through. I can’t imagine losing a mate to the intentional actions of another. Ren’s accident was just that—an accident. These anti-designation cultists choose the locations they attack with the intention of harming others.
“Harold wants to know if you could fly out for a few weeks to help their pack until they can arrange proper grief treatment for them.”
Well, shit. I run a hand through my bright blue hair, shoving it out of my face. I had planned on taking this time to get to know Bea better, but I can’t leave Dorian and his pack alone when they’re hurting. Depression will set in quickly, making each member of his pack a danger to themselves and each other. It isn’t unheard of for alphas who lose their mates to go feral or take their own lives. The depth of our grief when a bond is lost is immeasurable.
“Yeah. I’ll go. I’ll have to meet with the other marketing staff to pass off anything I can’t complete remotely.”
Shiloh nods, clicking around on his laptop. “I will send a memo to the entire team, and we will get you on a flight tomorrow evening. Thank you, Orion. I know this won’t be easy for you.”
Shrugging, I bury my hands in the pockets of my slacks. “I’ve been in similar shoes. If I can help, I will.”
The timeline leaves me with a long list of tasks to accomplish, but seeing the light on in the manager’s office, I push speaking to Bea to the top.
She’s at her desk, humming along to the soft music playing from her laptop. Her bubblegum pink top dips low enough to show a hint of the swell of her breasts without being unprofessional. The pale blue cardigan wrapped over her shoulder is covered in matching pink hearts. It’s far too big for her, falling around her body and hiding her gorgeous curves.
The long, dark curls of her hair are tied up in a messy bun at the top of her head, several strands falling loose around her face. I prefer when she leaves it down. The image of it wrapped around my fist while I pounded into her from behind has been the star behind every orgasm I’ve had for the past two months.
“Good afternoon.”
Mesmerizing blue eyes fly to mine at the deep sound of my voice. The heat in her gaze ignites a fire in my body, hardening my cock to the point of pain. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt her skin pressed to mine.
“Hey, Orion! Are you looking for Brady? I believe he’s downstairs with-“
“You, actually,” I cut in. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”
A smile stretches across her face. So bright it pierces the dark pieces of my soul and dulls the sharpest edges of my pain. “Sure! What can I do for you?”
“It’s not a work conversation,” I hedge as I pull a chair to sit across from her.
Her chest rises and falls a little faster, her body too still. Like she is gearing up for my rejection. I’ve made a real mess of this entire situation. I should have come to her sooner and explained everything. Hopefully, it won’t be too late to fix the doubts I’ve caused her to have about me.
“The label offices aren’t the best place for this.”
She nods slowly.
“I was hoping you would join me for dinner. Tonight. I know this is last minute, and I apologize for the rush. I’ve been called back to the West Coast office for a few weeks to help a band I befriended while I lived there. But I’d like to talk about the connection between us before I leave.”
Taking shallow breaths filled with her tropical Pina Colada scent, I wait to see if she will agree. If she doesn’t, I’ll accept her decision. The fault will only lie with me. My actions have been the driving force behind the distance between us.
“I would love to have dinner with you, Orion.” Color floods her cheeks, painting them a soft golden pink. It’s beautiful, even more so when it covers her entire body as she lingers on the edge of an orgasm.
“Perfect.” My response comes out on a heavy puff, the words laced with the desire pulsing through my body. I really need to get out of here before I do something reckless, like crawl beneath her desk and bury my face between her thighs.
“Do you have your phone?”
My hands fumble as I dig the device from my pocket and slide it across the desk to her. Bea’s presence rocks me to my core, turning me into a bumbling, blushing teenager. I watch as she puts her number in and sends herself a text. Our fingers brush when she hands it back to me. The small touch sparks across my skin like arcs of electricity, making my pulse race.
“Text me the details, and I’ll send you my address. Unless you’d prefer me to meet you at the restaurant?”
“No!” I clear my throat, shaking myself free from the clutches of the consuming pull between us. “No. I will pick you up.”
“Okay.” She smiles again, and Fates do I want to kiss her. Later. Depending on how our dinner conversation goes. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah, later.” I stand dumbly at her desk until Brady walks in. His presence breaks the moment between us, and I rush out of the office. Time to get everything sorted for my trip back to California.