21. Rian
Rian
W e drove to Half Moon Bay early. Ben wanted to make sure we didn’t hit rush hour traffic, and he wanted time to familiarize himself.
I didn’t hate the idea of early either. If we hit Ember’s cottage before West and Alejandro, maybe I could scent the other two before having to meet them. It was easier for me, to get used to scents before having to meet the person. I’d scented them on Ember before, but this felt different.
This felt like an audition I wasn’t certain I’d pass, and I was nervous. My palms were clammy, and the thought of things, whatever these things were exactly, not working out seemed like too much.
Like the universe dangled hope in front of me and yanked it away at the last minute.
I itched for my guitar. Maybe if I hummed a tune, I’d get myself sorted. Too late for that. I’d have to play when we got home tonight.
I could handle this. I pulled into the driveway. “It’s a cute little cottage. Sort of coastal, with white shutters and brown wood.”
Ember’s cottage was on the Cosmic Bonds grounds, but on the opposite side of where the welcome center and other public-facing buildings were.
“She said we could go on in.” I watched Ben get out of the car, and he extended his cane, hitting bits of gravel.
I wrinkled my nose. Gravel wasn’t the best surface for walking, but Ben didn’t want me to baby him.
“You’re sure?” Ben tilted his head and paused. “Smells close to the ocean.”
“Yeah, it’s just a little bit to the west.” I looked at the text again, and sure enough, Ember said the door was open, she was home, and go on in. She’d sent it about thirty minutes ago. “Yep. We’re early but so is she apparently.”
We’d originally planned on going to the beach before I got Ember’s text saying we could come over whenever. I loved the ocean this time of year, and I spent the last week cooped up in the studio.
I knocked and opened the door slowly, announcing, “Hey, Ember? It’s Rian and Ben.”
I stepped inside, listening for Ember’s voice. The door opened right into a spacious living room that smelled heavily of lemon, almonds, and some tropical citrus fruit I couldn’t place. It smelled like heaven, and I relaxed immediately.
I kept walking and stepped to the side so I wouldn’t trip up Ben. My alpha came inside and shut the door behind us.
It took me a minute to register the music I was hearing, but then I froze.
“Is that…” Ben trailed off.
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Uhhh, she’s in the shower.”
And singing.
Goosebumps rose all along my arms and I couldn’t move. My entire body flushed, like the first time I’d heard “Stand by Me” or “Amazing Grace.”
Ember’s voice hit me over the head and took me under. I was drowning and I didn’t want to surface.
All I could think of was, I didn’t know she could sing. She never said she could sing. I wouldn’t have been so shocked.
Her voice was husky and sweet, with clear diction. She’d obviously had years of practice. Ember went out of range a few times, especially when she tried to hit the same notes as Verona, a famous soprano, but otherwise she was perfect.
I could tell by her breath sounds that she was singing too much with her throat; the sound felt tight when she wasn’t pausing for breath. But an hour or so of voice coaching tweaks and she could have had a comfortable career as the next pop star.
Her voice reverberated, and I shivered again. I found the couch, tapping Ben’s arm so he knew I was moving.
We sat and listened as she moved through Verona, Moon and Magnolias, and then Evermore West. Tears stung my eyes; the power of the song grabbed me and refused to let go.
And then the opening notes started of “Graveyard Blues,” my own song, and I almost got up to beg her to stop. I wasn’t strong enough. Ben gripped my forearm, and I made a small sound, a plea and a prayer.
Her alto matched my husky baritone perfectly. She sang with a mournful plea, like she knew exactly the despair I’d felt when I wrote it.
I could still remember penning the lines “bound to you like the earth to the moon, caught in the tides where the shadows bloom.” I’d sat in my dark room at two in the morning, as heat cramps ripped through me.
I’d thought there was nothing left for me, nothing but one foot in the grave, but oh, the roses smelled so sweet.
Her voice held the long, low note, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed. I needed to make more music so I could hear the notes twist out of her mouth. My pain was now her pain, and I wondered what happened to her, to know the depths of that pain so intimately.
The song ended, and I forgot to breathe.
The shower stopped, and I realized we probably should have told her we were here.
“Hey, Ember?” Ben sounded shaky. “We got here early, and you said to let ourselves in. So don’t come out here naked unless, you know, you want to.”
“Ben?” She sounded confused. She poked her head around the corner, her wet hair hanging over a bare shoulder.
“Yes, hi.” Ben paused. “You have an incredible singing voice.”
Ember blushed. “I, uhhh, thank you. I’m going get dressed.”
She left the room in a cloud of sweet lemon. She returned a couple of minutes later, and I still felt like my brains were scrambled.
She had a pair of soft cotton pants on and an Evermore West T-shirt that hung off one shoulder, exposing creamy bare skin.
I was toast.
It didn’t matter whether or not I liked West and Alejandro. She had to be ours. Mine. So don’t ruin this for me , I told my omega instincts.
“I didn’t know you were here.” She cleared her throat.
“We got here early so…” I trailed off. “You struggled with a couple of notes,” I started again, trying to help. “But overall…”
“I didn’t know I had an audience,” she snapped. She glared daggers at me.
Damn, I should have chosen my moment better. I held my hands up. “You’re right, yep, I just…hi.”
Ben snickered.
Some of her irritation left. “What do you guys want to drink?”
“Something smells good,” Ben said. “Well, everything smells good, but I mean something smells like dessert.”
“Oh, yeah, Alejandro is obsessed with making lemon pound cake.” Ember grinned. “Big shocker.”
“Smart man,” I said, watching her move into the kitchen. She had shapely legs, and her fabric pants clung to her body in a way I envied.
She brought us the lemon pound cake, which tasted very close to how she smelled, and it did nothing for my perfume. The room started smelling smoky and spicy between me and Ben, and I had the stupid thought that we were ruining their food scents.
Ember pulled out her boxes of LPs, along with a massive record player, and set it up on the table next to the couch. “The goods.”
She handed it to Ben so he could feel it, and then my alpha passed it to me. “It’s in amazing condition.”
“I’d like to display them, but it’s too humid.” She sighed.
“How long have you been singing?” I asked, unable to let it drop. “Why didn’t you try to have a career? Stage fright?”
Ember shrugged, flipping through her records. “I love singing and music, but I don’t have the urge to get on stage and sing to people, you know? It’s more like a way to purge feelings.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “People make it more complicated.”
“That must seem weird to you two.” Ember frowned. “You make music for a living, which is magical.”
“Not weird,” Ben said softly. “I loved hearing you sing, but I get you not wanting to perform.”
“Sometimes we go do karaoke,” she grinned. “Which isn’t fair. I know karaoke is for people who can’t carry a tune. We came to listen to Steve struggle through ‘Living on a Prayer,’ not the next American Idol.”
I laughed. “Exactly. Not you, Miss Diva.”
Ember rolled her eyes. “I haven’t had any professional training. I just like it.”
“Fair enough,” Ben said. “But feel very free to sing around us at all times.”
“Yes.” I knew what Ben meant. Hearing her sing was like seeing a part of her soul, one she kept tucked away.
“I noticed you don’t carry a guitar around.” She gave me a stink eye. “You could be playing us some tunes right now.”
I expected to feel ashamed or self-conscious, but her tone took the sting out of it. “Noted. Now pick us some music.”
Ember went through her collection, and we spent the next two hours talking about LPs and the weird winding path that music could take.
Ben talked about early experiences with putting tracks together and which of the indie bands he saw go on to stardom, and Ember showed off her playlists.
She squealed and talked about music with such joy I remembered my own passion.
The same love, without all the baggage I carried with me now.
Just loving music for the sake of loving it.
The sun began to set, and it felt surreal and somehow perfect to spend hours talking about something the three of us loved.
“What about Olivia Ruiz’s yellow album, Omega Don’t Cry ?” I asked. We’d been stuck on albums that we loved for the last thirty minutes, working our way to omega pop stars.
“Oh, yes,” Ben said. “But ‘I’m the Only One’ is on her blue album so I can’t ignore that.”
Ember bounced again. “ Omega Don’t Cr y was my jam for years. I played ‘You’re Going to Go Far’ so much West knew what sort of mood I was in by the first three notes. I told him the song that hurt me didn’t hurt me enough, so I had to hear it again.”
“That’s a tough one.” I held my fist against my chest and shook my head, my hair falling into my face as I mimicked the music video that had made the omega a star almost overnight. “‘Don’t look up and don’t look back, your pack’s going to find you, you know that.’ I played that for months.”
“Oh my god,” Ember gasped. “I’m an idiot.”
She rifled through her LP collection.
“You’re not an idiot. You’re one of the most brilliant, passionate people I know,” I replied. “What?”
“Don’t move!” She held her hand up, and I froze in place.
She held a cover up triumphantly, looking between me and the LP. I didn’t have to look at the front to know that it was a limited-edition run of From Ashes we’d made on vinyl.
“You’re Burns,” she said, her voice going so high-pitched I was sure every dog in the area could hear her.
It felt inevitable. I’d expected to be grumpy or angry, like she’d found a dirty secret, but instead it was just calm acceptance. “How in the world did you figure it out? I wasn’t even singing.”
“The light.” She pointed at the dying sun, which was sending the room into shadows. “You look just like your album picture.”
She flipped it around, showing me the back photo of my face in profile, taken in the twilight.
“Rian, you’re Burns. Oh my god, how did I not see that?” Ember laughed again.
“I know,” I chuckled. “I was there.”
Ben looked pleased, amusement, light and airy, floated through our bond.
She looked between me and Ben. Her scent smelled so bright and happy it filled me up with joy too. “Is that how you two met?”
“Yes,” I said. “He totally seduced a young and impressionable?—”
Ben whacked my side. “Liar. He totally lured me with his hot young body and soulful sound.”
“Oh my god, you guys are so adorable together.” Ember giggled. “Why haven’t you put another album out? You know we’re all literally dying for another?”
Happiness deflated, sank like a stone. I swallowed hard. “I…uhh…”
My scent soured right away, and I fought the urge to leave the room and never, ever come back. What sort of answer could I give the sweet omega that wouldn’t sound stupid?
Because music was hard?
Because each song felt like it was ripping out of my soul, and I was bleeding too much to try?
“Sorry.” She sat down quickly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. I should have realized it was a sensitive subject.”
She sounded like she meant it too, like it would be okay if we never mentioned it again.
“Following up From Ashes , the more time passes…the harder it feels.” I shook my head, and Ben took my hand. “I’m too much in my own head, basically.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “Our brains can be total assholes.”
I relaxed, feeling a little bit better.
“So playing guitar in the studio is nice,” she said. “You get to make music.”
“I do,” I said. “And I still try to, uhh, write songs. Now and again.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” Ember shook her head. “I love singing, but between the lyrics and the actual music part I’d be lost.”
“It sort of pops into my head,” I said slowly. Oddly, it didn’t hurt to talk about this part. “I get a snatch of lyrics or a melody, and I write it down, until the next part comes to me.”
“Like being possessed,” she said with a grin.
Ben and I laughed at the same time. “Yes, just like that.” Some of the dread left me. We were going to get through this conversation without me feeling like a colossal failure.
Ember rummaged around the side table. “It’s like intuition. I’m really good at reading tarot cards. We should totally do a group spread.”
“A group spread sounds great,” Ben muttered, and Ember’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.
The door opened, and in stepped a male omega. It had to be West; he smelled like milk and honey. He wore a collared shirt and khakis, like an investment banker. He was Asian American, and had silky black hair pulled into a braid. He paused. “I thought…”
“We’re early,” Ben said quickly. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure.” He glanced between me and Ben, his milk and honey scent getting sweeter.
He smelled good. I stayed still, in case he was struggling with another omega in his house, but his scowl seemed more like his regular expression than something we caused.
If Alejandro smelled half as good as West did, maybe having three omegas wouldn’t be an issue.
I prayed to the gods above and below that I didn’t do anything to screw this up.