Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The morning after Isolde’s award ceremony, Quentin gets up early and takes Caleb’s car back to Starburgh. He doesn’t say anything about his plans, just that he will meet us at home this afternoon.
Peeking into the bedroom of Emmett’s grandmother’s chateau, my Omega is still curled in the blankets. Her soft lips are parted, and she has one arm tossed over the side of the bed where Emmett was sleeping.
The past few weeks have been full of unexpected stressors, so waking her will be a struggle.
Warmth at my back accompanies the comforting scent of a freshly sharpened pencil. “I’ll carry her to the car. She can sleep during the drive home.”
Onyx’s voice rumbles through my back like a purr. One hand moves to splay across my stomach, holding me against him. His possessiveness is something I’ve always loved. When we lived in Kolcruz and had to hide the love we share, I could always see it in his eyes and feel it in his heart.
“Leave her be until we’re ready to leave.”
Lacing our fingers together, I tug him through the house and to the large dining room where the rest of our pack eats breakfast. Isolde sits with them, exhaustion lining her face.
“Don’t fall asleep in your coffee, Issy.”
Her eyes fly to mine, a half-smile on her face. “I’ll try my best.”
“You should go back to bed,” Oskar, the youngest of the Kingston siblings, chimes in. “You have the day off and should be resting.”
Laughter bursts through the room when she reaches out and scruffs his hair, dislodging his carefully mussed style.
Despite growing up with wealth and the weight of expectation that comes with it, these three embody classic siblings, always teasing each other but also having each other’s back without question.
Like last night, when we showed up at the gala to celebrate Isolde’s achievement.
Sometimes I imagine what life would have been like with a little brother or sister, but then I remember all the awful shit that happened to me and my mom growing up. I would never wish that on anyone.
Silke trots into the room, her steps slow as she cradles her coffee in one hand and holds a cane in the other. I step away from Onyx and take the mug, silently helping guide her to the spot at the head of the table.
“Did you see this morning’s paper?” she asks after she’s settled, her nose wrinkled as she waves it in the air.
Onyx claims the chair beside me and grabs it. His scowl deepens as he reads. “This is horseshit.”
Leaning over, I read along with him. And quickly agree.
After the dismantling of two anti-designation cults and a breeding ring operating alongside them, one would think the things happening there would horrify the world.
The organ harvesting, illegal experimentation, torture, and mutilation should turn anyone’s stomach.
Yet congressmen from several anti-pack states are attempting to weaponise the testimony of those victims as an excuse for a nationwide ban on packs.
“They won’t succeed.” Emmett sounds certain, and Silke bobs her head in agreement. “Not with so many of their biggest players facing scrutiny for their ties to both cults.”
Sighing, I lean my head against the back of the chair. When we escaped Nathaniel Calbroh and his forced breeding program, I thought we were free. But it’s been one fight after another since then.
When will the world wake up and realize the harm it’s causing? Designations aren’t going anywhere. So why do they keep fighting against them?
An hour after breakfast, Onyx grabs a drowsy Skye from the guest room and carries her to the car, pausing for her to give Silke a one-armed hug.
Emmett’s grandmother gives our sleepy Omega a soft look, accepting her promise to call them soon.
I stand outside the passenger door, one arm on the roof, and watch as Emmett hugs his grandmother.
Damn, does seeing the two of them make me miss my mama. Moving to New York was the best choice for my mate, but it meant leaving her behind. Something I never thought I’d do.
When I called to talk to her about it, I got an earful. She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself. Which I know, but after all she’s been through, I can’t imagine something happening and not being there. Even when we tour, I worry about her.
I should call her on the way back to Starburgh. A glance at my phone’s screen puts an end to that plan. It’s still early morning in LA; she should be at the yoga studio.
The drive home is quiet; none of us want to wake Skye. She’ll be madder than hell when we get home, but an angry mate is better than a sleep-deprived one. Especially with the bond sickness still causing her hormones to fluctuate.
Caleb’s car is in the garage when we get home. The door is open, as is his trunk. Glancing at Onyx, his brows are also furrowed in confusion. We park beside it and stare out the window. “Let’s go find out what Quentin’s up to.”
As we climb out, the man in question jogs around the corner. He greets us and grabs a worn luggage bag from his trunk.
Another bag sits inside, one that is awfully familiar. I take it and have to do a double take when I’m hit with the warm scent of chamomile. “Q?”
My heart hammers when he shuts the trunk and motions for me to follow him outside.
Around the back of the garage is an empty apartment we had discussed converting into a home gym.
The inside is unrecognizable. What was once a blank, single-room space is now a small, tasteful apartment.
There’s a kitchen area with a two-seat dining table, and a mid-sized living space with a butter-soft white couch.
Two doors lead off the area. Both are open to reveal a bathroom and a bedroom. A woman stands at the foot of a full-sized bed, her back to us.
“Mama?”
A brilliant smile lights her face. “My boys. Give me a hug.”
I cross to her, dropping the bag on the floor and wrapping my arms around her small frame. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve gone to the airport with Quentin to pick you up.”
“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if you had known.
” She pats my cheek before turning to Onyx expectantly.
He’s careful when he hugs her, and he steps back much quicker.
My mate still struggles with the guilt of what his father did to her, despite years of reassurance that he isn’t responsible for his father’s actions.
“None of that, boy,” she chastises. “Where is my daughter-in-law?”
“We dropped her at the main house with the others. She had just woken up when we hit the city.”
“I’m glad she’s taking this vacation seriously and not pushing herself back into the studio. Same for all of you. You needed this. The break and the move.”
“How long will you be here?” I ask, picking up her bag and setting it on the bed for her. Quentin puts her luggage by the closet before asking, “You’ll come up to the house for dinner?”
“Yes, baby, I’ll join you all for dinner. I can’t wait to meet your new packmate. Skye told me about him, but you know my reservations. As for me being here, that’s up to you all. I’ll live in this apartment for as long as you make Starburgh your home.”
Several seconds pass where I stand and stare at her, my mouth opening and closing. “You’re moving here?”
“The rest of her belongings should arrive tomorrow,” Quentin explains. “She wanted to keep the move a secret. I asked her the day after we decided, knowing you would worry if she stayed in California.”
I can’t help myself as I pull him into a quick hug. “Thank you, man. This is… I appreciate everything you do for our pack. We’re damn lucky to have you.”
“You certainly are.” Mama pats him on the shoulder before she moves into the kitchen and starts rattling around in the fridge. “He even ordered all my favorite grocery staples.”
Damn, I might just cry. This is so surreal. My mama is here. She’s moving to New York with us. I can feel the weight of worry lifting from my shoulders. Asking her to come here hadn’t crossed my mind. I didn’t want to tear her away from her life again.
Maybe Onyx isn’t the only one with lingering guilt from our life in Kolcruz.
“Now, I love you all, but please go back to your mate. I can settle in on my own.”
I’m reluctant to leave her, but the stern glare she levels has my feet moving. I guess we’ll have plenty of time to talk if she’s going to live here. “Dinner will be ready at five. Do you want me to come walk you up to the house?”
She waves me off. “I can follow the driveway, Sterling. Now get.”
“Thank you,” I tell Q again as we leave.
Shrugging, he says, “I knew you’d feel better if she were here. And if you were worried about her, Skye would be too.”
He always connects the things he does for us to Skye, as if he’s too afraid to admit he just wanted to help us. Or maybe he really sees this as a way to relieve our Omega of a potential burden.
Either way, I’m grateful for his thoughtfulness. I feel lighter as we head back to the house, my mind running through dozens of options for dinner. Tonight we’re celebrating, so I have to go big.
A hand wraps around the back of my neck, and I’m spun to face Onyx, whose lips are pulled into the tiniest smile. “Thanksgiving is in two weeks; no need to go crazy tonight. Mama Aisha won’t want the fanfare.”
Deflating, I lean into his touch. He’s right. Mom will scold me if I do anything fancy.
I should stick to something comforting. There’s a lamb shoulder in the fridge I can use to make a stew. It’s still early, giving me time to let it slow-cook and make fresh rolls.
Conversation fades away as we step back into the house, and I lose myself in dinner plans. Cooking is a hobby I fell in love with as a kid. Helping my mama in the kitchen, measuring, kneading, the repetitive motions and processes kept my mind calm.