Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Skye left early Saturday morning for New York City, where she will spend the day practicing and getting ready for her show tonight.
I’m more nervous than I’d like to admit as we drive down to join her. This will be the first time I’ve watched her perform since Hollow Anchors disbanded.
“Are you alright?” Sterling asks, glancing at me from the passenger’s seat of Bellamy’s Jeep. Unclenching my hands, I tuck them under my thighs and jerk my head, focusing on the scenery out the window instead of my nerves.
Reigning them in is difficult, but I don’t want them to bleed over to Skye and cause her to make a mistake on stage.
“Have you seen her shows?” Bellamy asks, turning down his music so we don’t have to shout. “Skye tried to hide it, but we all knew she was keeping tabs on you. I’m pretty sure there’s an entire album of screenshots and videos on her phone from your tour last summer.”
The guilt eats me. She was that invested in me after I left her and never looked back?
Biting my cheek, I force myself to admit I haven’t followed her career at all. “This will be the first of her shows as Skye Pierce I’ve ever seen.”
“Seriously? Not a single clip?”
Shrugging, I pull at a string on one of the rips in my jeans. “I knew if I saw her, even a video clip, I would lose the will to stay away.”
My eyes fly to them when they both snort. Rolling my eyes, I continue, “I’m an idiot. We’re all aware. I didn’t recognize the instincts for what they were; I was too focused on burying them.”
“You’re not an idiot.” Sterling shakes his head. “A coward maybe, but hey, at least you know the truth now.”
I return to staring out the window. We still have a lot to work through, but Skye is finally mine. I’m never going to let my fear get between us again.
The venue she’s playing is smaller than the stadiums she sold out on her tour last winter.
Tonight’s show is a promotional event for a tech company she partnered with last spring.
They recently launched a new app called Packed Destiny that they are marketing as a safer way for unbonded Omegas to communicate with potential packs before meeting them.
It sounds cool, honestly. There are too many shady people in the world, and not everyone has parents to chaperone them on get-to-know-you dates. Their app might help take some of the stress off the already overworked Omega protection system.
Fans line the sidewalk, wrapping around the corner of the block as they wait for the doors to open. Seeing how many people are waiting for my girl gives me chills.
She’s reached a level of fame we never imagined back when we were Hollow Anchors.
The tiniest speck of guilt falls from my shoulders. If I had stayed back then, she might not have made it this far. I would have held her back the same way I have every band I’ve been in since.
Using the passes Quentin got us, we head backstage to find our girl. There’s only an hour until showtime, so she should be done practicing by now.
“It’s so hot,” Skye whines. She’s standing in front of a large fan in the green room, pinching her oversized t-shirt to hold it away from her chest. Green eyes peek over her shoulder and a bright smile graces her lips. “You made it.”
“We wouldn’t miss your show, dandelion. Watching you shake your ass on stage is the best part of any day.” Bellamy blows a raspberry on her cheek, making her laugh.
Emmett opens a mini-fridge in the corner and passes her a bottle of cold water that immediately gets pressed against her neck.
“Thanks. I know we’re still technically on vacation, but dance practice has to be back on the schedule. Zumba classes once a week won’t help me retain the choreography for these shows.”
Quentin purses his lips. “I can accept weekly practices for retention, so long as you aren’t working on new choreography until after the year ends.”
Since Orbital Somatic and Shattered Horizons are both metal bands, no one else in the pack has to deal with scripted stage performances like Skye does. We just sort of move where we want while trying to be conscious of where our bandmates are.
Someone knocks on the door and a short brunette woman pokes her head in. “Sup dudes. I’m here to steal your woman.”
“Lizzie. This is Caleb. He’s my Alpha,” Skye explains, wrapping her arms around my waist and squeezing me tight. “Lizzie is the lead makeup artist on my team. Oh, you should tag along so you can meet everyone.”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing my wrist and dragging me from the room. I go willingly. I’d follow her anywhere.
Leaning against the inside of the door, I listen as she introduces each of her dancers, rambling on about how she met them and how amazing they are. They give me small waves, careful not to move as the design team gets them ready for the show.
Witnessing Skye interact with her team, it’s easy to see how much they adore her. She’s so invested in their lives, bringing up things most artists would have forgotten after so many months apart.
I capture a picture of her with my phone, making sure my mate mark is visible in the shot, and send it to my sister.
The daughter Mom always wanted.
Daughter by mating, you jerk.
Mom has the ultimate daughter right here.
Cara follows her texts with a selfie, her tongue sticking out and her eyes crossed. I snicker, smile dimming when she asks if I’m bringing Skye home for Christmas.
My plan was to go home alone for a few days after, but I’m not sure how feasible the trip is right now. The five days Skye spent in Rhode Island helping Emmett’s grandmother were hell, but I could have driven there overnight if I needed to.
If I fly back home, there would be no easy way to get back to Skye if she needed me.
We’ll make plans to visit in the spring. After our bond has more time to settle.
I don’t want to drag her away from her other mates over the holidays.
You know Mom’s going to tell you to bring them, too.
I know.
You’re lucky I’m the best sister ever.
I’ll convince Mom to visit you instead.
I hear there’s a museum out there dedicated to pre-designation pop culture.
Skye looks at me when I groan, one sculpted brow raised in question. I mouth “Cora” and wiggle my phone. Warmth fills her eyes. Love blasts down our bond and I turn my head to hide the tears I brush away.
I’m overly emotional tonight, and I don’t know why.
*rolls eyes* greeeat.
We would love to see you all, though.
I do miss you.
Miss you too, big bro.
You’re pretty okay for a stinky Alpha.
Locking the screen, I pocket my phone, still smiling. My family means a lot to me, and I know they mean as much to my Omega. I’ll work things out with Quentin and let their visit be a surprise for her.
Nah, I totally need to warn her that my mother's coming. The whole pack deserves to brace for her level of cringe.
Quentin arrives with impeccable timing, sliding into the room beside me as Lizzie finishes her touch-ups on Skye’s makeup.
Our mate is dazzling in a pink, off-shoulder top that cups her breasts and a pair of high-waisted, white hot pants. She slips into a pair of knee-high boots rimmed in white lace, kicking one ankle out with a cheeky grin to show us the pretty little bow and dangling flower charms on the side.
“As beautiful as ever,” Quentin promises, offering her his hand.
She pauses beside me, lips puckering expectantly. I kiss her gently, careful not to smudge her lipstick and ruin her team’s hard work.
“Go slay ‘em, bunny. I’ll be waiting for you after.”
I might not have seen any of Skye’s performances during our time apart, but I listened to every album she put out. On repeat.
Hearing her voice soothes me instead of igniting my instincts the way seeing her does.
Watching her now, I’m in awe. She’s better than I remember. Her voice has always been amazing, but now she’s singing and dancing perfectly in sync with her crew.
I could never master that level of activity on the stage. I’d be tripping over my own feet and theirs.
“She’s good, right?” Bellamy asks, leaning against my back where we’re crowded together in the front corner of the venue. It’s pretty packed in here, but not so much that he has to be plastered against me.
Not that I’m complaining. I like that he wants to touch me, even in little ways like this.
“She’s incredible.”
A sheen of sweat coats her skin from the first hour and a half of her show. They gave her a break after the first fifty minutes, which we spent helping her cool down and change into a fresh outfit.
The song ends, and she hypes the crowd up before diving into the next one. I frown when she laughs, higher pitched than it has been all night.
Dancers twirl around her before moving into position for her to join them. She belts out the words to the upbeat pop song, holding out her mic for the crowd to sing along.
Everyone is vibing until she stumbles. One of her dancers catches her shoulder, their eyes widening before they glance into the wings where Quentin and Onyx stand.
Skye laughs it off with the crowd, diving right back into her performance, but she’s still off-kilter.
Sterling moves closer to Bellamy and me, studying our mate intensely. The bright stage lights and the distance between us make it hard to tell what my instincts are screaming about. Closing my eyes, I sink into our bond, using our Fated connection to strengthen my sense of her emotions.
I’m not prepared for the wave of pure need that hits me.
“Oh shit,” I grunt, eyes flying open.
Sterling locks eyes with me. “What is it?”
Swallowing against the growl rising in my throat, I jerk my head toward the backstage entrance behind us. “I’m pretty sure Skye is in heat.”
“True heat or a mini heat?” Bellamy asks, worry bleeding into his baby blue eyes.
Hesitating, I look back at the stage where our Omega is singing her heart out. “I don’t know how to tell the difference,” I admit. Her mini heats are a side effect of our separation, so I’ve never experienced one with her.
Secretly, I hope this is a true heat. For very selfish reasons.