Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
I’m a coward.
An Alpha undeserving of his title.
It’s been two weeks since that morning in the hotel room. Since the moment I found out that the feelings I have for Skye aren’t just lingering from a childhood by her side, but Fate-driven by the connection we share.
Nausea crawls up my throat each time I think of the years we’ve spent apart. Knowing that I wouldn’t have lost nearly a decade with her if I hadn’t chickened out the moment our Fated connection didn’t appear.
“You good, man?” Lee side-eyes me as we ride the elevator up to Soulbound’s second floor.
We’re booked for studio time. I should be excited to lose myself in the music, but it’s hard to focus when my thoughts keep drifting back to Skye.
Grunting out a response, I duck into the hall before any of my bandmates can press me further. They know what happened. It’s not like I could hide it from them when I fell apart after returning from Shattered Horizons’ suite.
I shouldn’t push them away when they’re just trying to help, but I can’t help increasingly feeling like an outsider now. How could I be comfortable when I learned I never belonged in this pack?
Near the end of our session, our producer stops us.
Relief wars with shame when I see Bea waiting beside him.
I felt like the world’s shittiest friend when I learned she never made it back to the hotel following our show in Portland.
I should have made sure she returned safely instead of drowning myself in alcohol and Skye’s presence.
But I didn’t, and she paid the price for it.
I can’t get anything right as an Alpha, can I?
Lee rushes through the door and drops to the floor beside her, apologies already spilling from his lips. She laughs it off and pats his head.
“You know what happened in Portland wasn’t your fault, right?”
Joey cuts in, placing the blame back on our shoulders. Where it belongs.
Bea’s head shakes, her arms dropping to prop on her hips as she levels a hard look our way.
“If those assholes hadn’t been able to get to me at the hotel, they would have found me elsewhere.
Or worse, taken someone else. They are the ones to blame.
Not you, not me, not the label. Just the peope who took me. ”
When we don’t voice our protests, she nods. “No apologies, no guilt. We’re here to skyrocket your band into stardom, not rehash shitty events we can’t change. Take fifteen minutes to cool off, then meet me in the manager’s office.”
I trail behind my bandmates as we gather our stuff and head upstairs.
How does she expect us not to feel guilty when she was kidnapped and hurt because none of us left the club with her?
I can agree most of the blame belongs on the people working for and running the breeding ring, but we still fucked up that night.
Misery smothers me by the time we join Bea in the office.
I can barely breathe as we go over her plan for the rest of the year.
Our schedule is slow, allowing us to focus on studio time, but there are a few shows left.
She’s thorough in plotting out what we can do between them and scheduling us to meet with the social media team to go over content ideas.
When we’re finished, she sends the guys off but asks me to stay behind. I don’t have the energy to worry why she wants me alone, so I stare at the only blank wall in the room and wait for her to speak.
“What’s going on?”
My brows pinch when I see her watery eyes. She may be my manager, but that doesn’t make my personal bullshit her problem. “It’s nothing-”
Her glare pierces me, sharper than any knife, and I swallow the rest of my words. I can’t meet her eyes, staring at the table instead as I clench my hands until my knuckles turn white.
“The morning we found out you were missing, I hit the hotel gym and ran into two members of Shattered Horizons. Mid-workout, I started to panic. Full-blown, hard-to-breathe panic attack. It was fucking weird. I didn’t understand why my body was reacting so poorly to something I’d done a hundred times… ”
I trail off, struggling to voice the rest. To admit my failure aloud is especially humiliating.
“They dragged me upstairs, and that’s when I saw Skye. She was hyperventilating in her other mate’s arms. I didn’t get it at first, but one of her Alphas explained, and suddenly it clicked.”
Her breath catches, already guessing what happened next.
“They weren’t my emotions at all. They were hers. Shared through a Fated connection we never uncovered.”
“What did she say?” The words are barely a breath between us, but they force me to shift away, dragging my shame to the surface and suffocating me with it.
“I left before I could find out. Like hell, I was going to stick around to get rejected.”
Her hand settles on my forearm, her grip gentle as she draws my gaze back to her. “Skye already has a bonded pack-”
Irritation blazes through me, and I shake off her hand. “I fucking know that.”
I’m not the only one irritated by this situation, because her eyes narrow and one polished finger juts into my face. “Let me finish speaking, asshole.”
When I clench my jaw and tap the table, she backs away and continues.
“She has a bonded pack, but she still sought you out. The history between the two of you obviously means something to her. And I know it does to you. Are you really going to walk away from your Fate-matched mate again because you are afraid you won’t fit in with her other mates?”
The question slaps me in the face with the force of a freight train. “That’s not… It’s complicated.”
Bea pushes to her feet and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Maybe. Maybe not. You won’t know if you don’t try. I don’t know about you, but I believe Fate is worth taking chances on.”
She leaves me sitting in the office, stewing over her words.
Skye is worth the pain of trying to find my place in an already formed pack. That was never a question.
It’s me who doesn’t deserve her.
As we step off the stage, making way for the crew to swap out equipment and get ready for the main act, I can’t hide a heavy sigh. Tonight was our third and final charity tour appearance, and it was… not great.
My heart wasn’t in my performance. It hasn’t been since I found out about my Fated connection. Forcing myself to continue performing is a disservice to the rest of the band.
Bea must see it written in my eyes, because she doesn’t stop us on our way to the green room.
The guys collapse on various surfaces, guzzling water and trying to cool off. Matt peels the label off his bottle before pointing at me. “You’re out.”
My brow furrows. “I’m out?”
“Of the band. The pack. Caleb, we all adore you. Having you with us has shown us how amazing this experience can be. But you don’t belong here. And now, we all know it.”
Glancing at Joey and Lee, they nod in unison. “Mattie’s right,” Lee says. “Why stay when your heart moves on?”
Frowning, I tug at the curls falling across my face. “I can’t leave you hanging like this.”
“So vet your replacement. There are a ton of dudes at the label who would jump at the chance to join a band with some traction. Help us find the right person and then get the hell out of here. Track down your girl and fix things.” Joey shrugs, throwing one arm across the back of the couch.
The door opens, and Bea walks in. “They’re right, Caleb. I spoke with Shiloh, and you are free to leave your contract as long as there is a bass player to replace you.”
My mouth opens and closes several times, a hundred protests sitting on my tongue. They’re all excuses. Dumb ones driven by fear.
“Also, Quentin Crowley has been blowing up my email trying to reach you.”
One of Skye’s Alphas has been trying to reach me?
Why?
“I’m putting my foot down. Whether you go after your drool-worthy Fate-matched mate is your choice, but staying in Orbital Somatic isn’t.”
Mischief twinkles in her eyes when my phone pings from the pocket of my bag. I dig it out, finding a message from an unknown number. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, finger hovering over it.
Before I can decide for myself, one of Bea’s long pink nails appears and does it for me. I love this woman—in a totally platonic, sisterly way—but if she doesn’t stop meddling, I’m going to lock her in the janitor’s closet.
Caleb, this is Quentin.
We are throwing a surprise birthday party for Skye next Saturday at our home in Starburgh. 6 p.m. Casual attire.
If you need a ride, let me know.
Another message follows, listing an address out by the lake. I must sit and stare at the message for too long, because Bea’s heels tap impatiently on the floor. “So?”
Rolling my eyes, I close out of the message and shove my phone back into my bag. “They invited me to their house next weekend. Like you, it is more of a demand than a question.”
Bea claps her hands together. “Perfect timing. We have an entire week to find someone to fill your place in the band, and for you to pull your head out of your ass.”
She isn’t fazed by my glower as she chatters about her plans for the guys. Leaving Orbital Somatic and their pack is as weird as it is relieving. I never truly fit in with them, an instinct I should have listened to months ago instead of trying to tough it out.
This is the best path for all of us.
I just have to be brave enough to follow it.
Lying alone in my hotel room, I stare up at the ceiling, so turned on it’s ridiculous.
Now that I’m aware of my connection to Skye, I can’t help but question how much of this is from me and how much is from her.
Is she in her nest with her mates? Letting them touch her soft skin and savor the sweet nectar between her thighs?
My hand travels down my chest and beneath my shorts to grip my length. In the rare moments I allow myself to remember, I swear I can still taste her on my tongue. An intoxicating mixture of sweet florals and smoked honey.
A groan falls from my lips as I stroke myself. The memory of her spread before me is so vivid I can feel the ghost of her thigh beneath my palm as I push her legs to her chest.
I want that again. To feel her. Taste her. Love her.
My eyes fall shut as I lose myself in the memories, cock pulsing with need and my balls growing heavy. I spiral higher and higher, Skye’s name leaving my lips on a groan as I come, coating my hand and the inside of my shorts in my release.
As I pant for breath, regret and shame slowly bubble back to the surface. I don’t know if I can be the Alpha she needs me to be. Not when I’ve spent so many years trying to glue my broken pieces back together.