Chapter 5
Chapter Five
From the playful tunes Mama belted in our kitchen to the heavy breakdowns Onyx and I discovered at our first metal concert, music has always been my guide.
It led me to Onyx when he snuck out to the barn and played his grandad’s old acoustic guitar.
It led us to Bellamy when we attended the Alpha Academy, and then to Shattered Horizons where we met Emmett, adding to our growing pack.
And now it’s led me here.
To a stale-smelling hotel gym.
Not a road I anticipated I would follow, but life is full of the unexpected.
Caleb sets a punishing pace on the treadmills across the room. Pushing himself and venting his frustration over the path his decisions have led him down.
Onyx stretches beside me, eyes focused on the other man. His lips curve into the tiniest frown, one that wouldn’t be noticeable if I hadn’t spent a lifetime memorizing his expressions.
“He wants her,” he grunts, arms crossing over his chest as he stands to his full height. The move widens his frame, adding bulk to his imposing height.
Watching the way Caleb reacted to our mate last night solidified what we already knew: he’s hers.
But X is still in denial about their connection. Not because he doesn’t want to accept the other Alpha into our pack, but because he knows Caleb hurt Skye by leaving.
Forgiving him won’t happen easily.
“Come on.” I jump to my feet and head over to the free treadmill beside Caleb, greeting him with a quick, “Hey.”
He stumbles, but quickly rights himself and focuses on the television playing in front of us.
I get it. Who wouldn’t freak out when the mates of the woman you’re secretly in love with suddenly join your morning work out?
When Skye told us about her childhood best friend and former lover, it was impossible to miss the longing in her voice. She tries to hide it, but we’re all aware that she sometimes hides in her nesting nook to watch the clips she’s saved from his performances.
Caleb left her and their band when they turned twenty-one, using the differences in their music as an excuse.
The timing didn’t match up, though.
Twenty-one is when we discover our Fated connections.
Mystical sources that lead us to our Fate-matched mates.
They come in many forms, and some are easier to notice, like a birthmark suddenly appearing on your body, or being able to hear someone else’s voice in your mind.
Others take time or the right circumstances to appear, like writing on your skin or a soul glow that only appears when you meet your mate.
I think Caleb assumed the connection he shared with Skye wasn’t Fated when no obvious sign appeared.
I also think he’s a dumbass who left behind an amazing woman because he was too chickenshit to stick around and find out for sure.
Skye’s Fated connection is a type that is harder to see—shared emotions. Unless you’re feeling the other person’s emotions at just the right time, it’s easy to explain it away as hormones.
We did at first, but then an obsessed fanboy snuck into the backyard of Skye’s apartment while we were visiting. Her terror had pierced through all of us, and in that instant we knew for sure that she was ours.
If Caleb had stayed to sort through the mess of emotions, he might have realized she’s his, too. We won’t know for certain until something wakes his ass up.
How this man handles the realization that he spent nearly a decade running for no damn reason will tell us a lot about his character.
Pure panic and anguish spikes sharply through my bond to Skye a half hour into our run. Onyx slams the button to stop his machine and jogs to the door, startling several other patrons and sending them scattering from his path.
I’m two steps behind him when I hear shuttered gasps. Wheeling around, I find Caleb clutching his treadmill and his chest. He’s bent at the knees, breaths sawing in and out of him.
Well, shit, I suppose this is the moment he finds out, isn’t it?
Throwing my arm beneath his shoulder, I drag him to the elevator, catching it just in time to ride up with Onyx.
My pack leader’s foot taps on the floor, an impatient growl rattling his chest when we stop and the doors don’t immediately open. I took the time to explore the rest of our pack’s emotions instead of drowning in what Skye is feeling, giving me a firmer grip on my instincts.
Caleb chokes out an apology as I pull him into the hall, his breathing returning to normal. Red colors his pale cheeks, and he stares at the wall as he ambles along behind me. At our door, he stops, staring at the wood as he whispers, “I should go.”
Yeah, that ain’t happening.
I stop him with a hand around his biceps and shake my head. He narrows his eyes, but doesn’t fight me when I pull him into the room.
My pack surrounds Onyx, who has Skye pressed to his chest. Tears streak her pale pink cheeks, and she clings to him, arms tight around his neck.
Quentin steps over, his gray eyes calculating as they land on Caleb. “I’m not sure if your bandmates have informed you, but your manager is missing.”
“What?” Caleb asks numbly, barely looking away from Skye.
“They went to wake her up so you could head back to New York, but she didn’t answer. When they stopped to ask if we had heard anything from her, Skye called the front desk. She spiraled into a panic attack when she learned Bea never returned from the club last night.”
Caleb’s mouth hangs open, his eyes darting back to Skye. “She was having a panic attack?”
Q nods sharply, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “She was.”
“And you were feeling it,” I add, leaning forward so Caleb is forced to focus on me. “What you felt in the gym? Those weren’t your emotions. They were hers.”
His dark brows furrow, and his lips pinch into a thin line. “But how would I-”
“Through your Fated connection.” Quentin doesn’t hold back his disapproving scowl as he delivers the blow.
The color drains from Caleb’s face, his arms falling to hang limply at his sides. For the briefest second, I think this asshole might pass out.
“Fated connection?” He mouths the question, his attention inevitably drawn back to our mate. “That can’t…”
His basil scent wilts as it finally sinks in. The confusion in his steel-blue eyes shifts to regret, and then his expression shutters to a blank slate. He spins on his heel, stopping to bite out, “I need to call the label and let them know about Bea.”
“Coward,” Q mutters, glaring at the other Alpha’s back.
The door clicks closed behind Caleb, and I pat my pack mate on the shoulder. “This is a lot to take in. And he isn’t wrong about helping to find his manager. Is there anything we can do?”
With a sigh, Quentin turns back to our mate.
“Federal agencies will get involved since she is an unbonded Omega. It is best if we stick to our schedule and check out. The sooner we are at the estate and locked behind additional layers of security, the better. Knowing an Omega is missing is unsettling my instincts.”
I can’t argue with that, already feeling the need to have my mate in my arms.
Skye’s scent is acrid with her distress, burning my nose as I press a kiss to her head. Leaning against her back, I let a purr rattle to life in my chest, silently reassuring her I’m here and she is safe.
Bellamy tucks himself under my arm, joining our Skye sandwich. His lips press to her ear, whispering what words of reassurance he can provide without giving her promises he’s unable to keep.
There might not be anything we can do to help find Bea, and I know that knowledge will weigh heavily on my mate’s shoulders.
Her emotions are a whirling wreck inside our bond. How much comes from her, I’m unsure. Caleb is likely unintentionally fueling it. The revelation that he shares a Fated connection with Skye and his manager being missing has to be causing him to experience an avalanche of emotion on his own.
Not that he or the other members of Orbital Somatic are to blame. I just know I wouldn’t be able to stop the guilt if I were in their shoes.
Our bags are packed and waiting on a cart when Quentin kneels before our Omega. “Agents have arrived and are searching for Bea as we speak,” he informs her, pushing hair away from her face. “There isn’t anything we can do to assist them.”
Her lips part, a protest sitting on her tongue, but he stops her with a knowing look. “Please, Omega, let us take you home to your nest. I promise to share any news of Bea’s disappearance with you as soon as I hear it.”
Collapsing against my side, the fight leaves her in an exhausted huff. Squeezing her thigh, I lean down and whisper, “That’s our good girl.”
She gives me the stink eye as I help push her to her feet, and I can’t help but laugh. I love this woman so damn much it feels unreal.
Our estate in Starburgh leaves me awestruck.
Black wrought-iron gates span our driveway, connecting the stone wall that runs the length of the property.
Quentin added both when he bought the house for Skye a few years ago.
Life in the spotlight means we have to take extra precautions to ensure our mate is always safe and free to be herself when we’re home.
As rarely as that may be.
As Onyx guides our SUV up the drive and beyond the treeline, the sprawling stone mansion comes into view. Skye leans over Emmett’s lap to press her face to the window. Something about this place has always called to her. A spark of magic only she can feel.
My eyes soften as I smile at her. Q made a good call planning our vacation here.
The car stops when the driveway curves toward the garage and Skye scrambles out, our laughter following her as she flies across the pavement.
Bellamy catches up to her as she reaches the arched pergola covering the walkway between the conservatory and the main house. In the spring it will bloom with fragrant wisteria, but this late in the year, it hangs bare.
He sweeps her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style to the door. “How many new cozy spots do you think Q had them add this time, dandelion?”