Chapter 22 Tray
TRAY
I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t like this feeling.
Being out of control. Being angry. Feeling like I should beat the shit out of my brothers, because, if they didn’t exist, then Tessa would be mine.
Only mine. That wasn’t like me. I didn’t operate that way.
I followed attraction. I embraced lust and love, and I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about me. Sharing was in my DNA.
Had I ever wanted to belong to one person? That question... today... I couldn’t answer it with confidence.
Yesterday, I’d have said no. Zero hesitation.
Sure, I knew my family was right when they said I needed to settle down.
Anytime mom had pestered me about finding a mate, I’d counter that I was still young and years away from any chance of feral affliction.
Even as time sped past me, I kept clinging to that.
I’m young. I’ve got years left. Truth was, it wasn’t the college exams giving me headaches.
It wasn’t a ten-page paper sending me into a spiral that could only be solved by a casual fuck and a five-hour fantasy flick marathon.
I knew it was stage one; I just couldn’t face the truth.
Dropping my hands, I slammed my palms against the cushions.
Someone sucked in a breath; the sound was quickly followed by footsteps.
Probably Cat. Shit, we’d terrified her. The woman who’d stuck by us through thick and thin.
We were monsters. We’d stay monsters if we didn’t sort out our bullshit.
I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t want to see the other guys.
They’d looked so wild, ready to attack at any moment.
Even I’d jumped on the bloody bandwagon, unable to control myself.
Was finding our fated mate going to be the end of Oblivion Haze?
That wasn’t the plan. That wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
How many offers to leave the band had I turned down? Millions on single year contracts with renewal options that included lifetime royalties. Yet, I had never regretted being loyal.
We had to survive this. Finding our perfect scent match couldn’t tear us apart after all we’d been through together. Fuck, finding our mate should be the most wonderful thing in the damn world.
Catalina cleared her throat and now I did part my lashes. She was standing a little farther away, her posture tense. She began to speak, voice taking on an almost professorial quality as if she thought an academic tone would fan the flames of sanity instead of ferality.
“The Eros client liaison warned me this might happen when we were first negotiating the contract. They said even the strongest pack dynamics can strain when an Omega is found, simply because your Alpha natures will want to claim, absolutely, the Omega for its own.” She paused, letting her words sink in.
“Guys, sharing doesn't always come naturally, even when a pack wants it to be that way. But The Institute did clarify that the larger the gap in compatibility between the Alphas and the Omega, the more likely the pack is to fracture. For instance, if one Alpha is only a fifteen percent match, while another is an eighty percent match the chances of pack degradation is high.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell us that?” Dixon rumbled, hooded gaze dark and dangerous. He shook his damaged hand, sending droplets of crimson flying to stain various surfaces.
“Dixon, you guys are different.” She took a deep breath, trying to smile as she made eye contact with each of us. “You guys have matched with Tessa in an incredible, unprecedented way. Remember? Provably, through science and scent, Tessa was meant to belong to Oblivion Haze.”
The last part hung in the air, heavy and terrible.
I wasn’t a jealous person, yet Cat saying that Tessa was meant to belong to the band gave me a taste of what it would be like.
I could become a possessive person prone to malicious love.
I could keep my Omega hidden from the world, tucked away for my own private pleasure.
My Alpha nature started spiraling. I didn't want Tessa to belong to the pack. I wanted her to belong to me. Screw Ryder and his long-standing obsession. Screw the entire group. Screw the idea of waiting another second. Now that I knew the scent of her, now that my inner Alpha knew it, I couldn't imagine her belonging to anyone else. Maybe I should call up the most recent label executive who’d tried to coax me away. One year, three million. A percentage of tour merchandise as a bonus. Possibility to renew at double. I’d forge a new path and take Tessa with me.
Not me. A little voice whispered, barely audible over my inner Alpha ranting. This isn’t me.
Hell, not too long ago I’d been in bed with a stranger.
The honeymoon suite at The Roosevelt. A stunning Omega with a pair of green eyes that could haunt a person for life.
He’d been delicious. I wasn’t the jealous type.
I wasn’t the possessive type. I wasn’t going to battle my brothers.
Not me. This isn’t me. I mentally repeated the words until they started to stick.
Standing up abruptly, I turned and leaped over the sofa.
Striding fast, so I didn’t have time to think, I wrenched open the patio door and walked back out into the pounding rain.
I let it soak me again, though I’d barely managed to dry in the chilly interior of the mansion.
It had the effect I’d hoped though—by the time I strode back inside, I’d returned to my normal self.
Tessa’s scent hit me anew, but this time I didn’t want to abandon Oblivion Haze or punch my pack brothers. I did, however, still want her desperately. I wanted her in a way I’d never wanted anyone.
Something real.
Something lasting.
Something more than a hook-up app, a shit coffee date, and terrible sex with a ludicrously clingy Beta.
Our mate. Tessa was our mate. And we were a pack.
“Better?” Catalina moved towards me. She still held the plastic bag.
Butterflies took flight in my stomach when she came to a stop in front of me and Tessa’s scent kissed my senses.
Involuntarily, I groaned with desire. Cat’s eyes flicked down to the bag, and then back to my face.
“Well, that’s better than wanting to fight,” she observed, patting my shoulder and then returning to the center of the room near the coffee table.
I was standing just inside, the patio door still open behind me. The sound of the rain outside was soothing, so I didn’t bother to slide it closed before moving back to the sectional. I didn’t sit down this time. I’d done enough damage to the upholstery.
"I don’t want to fight you guys over Tessa,” I finally breathed out, addressing the room at large.
“You could try,” Dixon suggested, obviously not yet in the mood for reconciliation.
“I’m getting déjà vu,” I laughed awkwardly. “Didn’t we try that once before? Pretty sure my ribs still ache in bad weather.” I touched my side gingerly and winced dramatically.
As if the reminder he’d once hurt me was the switch that needed to be flipped, Dixon deflated. Though we all knew it would take the tiniest inconvenience to stoke his savagery again, his posture softened, and he moved to lean against the shelving next to the fireplace with its busted mantle.
“I know I should be happy that Tessa is coming, but all I want to do is tear every one of you fuckers apart so I'm the only Alpha left.” Dixon didn’t exactly growl the words this time, but thunder still threaded beneath them.
"Fucking ditto," Ryder grumbled, though he wasn’t clawing at himself anymore. His arms were covered in cuts and drying blood.
Mac said nothing. Though he seemed to be the one who’d recovered the fastest, something just didn’t look right about him now.
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. I peered at him, wondering what was going on inside his head.
The quietude lengthened. Even Catalina just stood there.
We all seemed to be expecting the second shoe to drop.
“You can't have her,” Mac finally spoke; his voice vibrating with emotion and need. The same need that tore through all of us, no matter how much we loved each other. “None of you can have her.”
Every head turned to look at Mac. No one knew what to say. He was always the one to yield. The designated driver. The calm in the storm. Even during this, he’d somehow pulled himself together and protected Catalina when the rest of us had intimidated her while lost in primal urgings.
“Mac, you have to get it together. You are always the one who makes the pack see reason,” Cat came to his rescue this time. “If you don’t lead the charge, I’m truly worried this won’t work. You guys need Tessa. You desperately need her.”
“I'm so damn tired of being the one who constantly keeps the pack in check. I'm an Alpha. I'm a man. I have my own needs that no one seems to fucking care about. It’s like I’ve been the pack Omega this whole goddamn time.” Mac was nearly whispering, like if he spoke louder, he’d either fall apart or fuck up the world.
Without thinking better of it, I blurted out a response. “I mean, if we’re going to label someone a token Omega, it should probably be the pack’s bottom. Omega’s might be givers in the streets, but they’re takers in the sheets. What about it, Dix?”
The minute the words left my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have said them.
Dixon launched forward.
Guess all it took was my smart-ass mouth to ruin any chance of this situation ending without a brawl.
Catalina ran to the side, getting out of the attack zone. She clutched Tessa’s medical gown to her chest, her face pale. That was the last thing I saw before the world became a flurry of fists, fresh blood, and feral howls.
An hour later, bruised and bloody, the four of us were splayed out on the sectional with various bags of frozen vegetables slammed against our swelling faces. I had a towel under me, though the cushion I’d soaked was probably already ruined.
Catalina was on the phone with a local spa that specialized in wound recovery. Apparently, they could completely erase any evidence that we’d nearly killed one another. All it would take was ten grand and a few hours.
“Yes, we’ll pay extra if you can come today.
” Cat paused, listening. “That will work.” Cat ended the call and stuffed the cell into her pocket.
She had Tessa’s gown tucked under one arm, refusing to let us be near it for now.
When she strode towards us, she was shaking her head in annoyance.
“You guys are going to be the death of me.”
“Or each other,” I quipped, repositioning the lumpy bag of Brussels sprouts. I’d gotten the shit end of the stick. Dixon’s peas molded so well to his damn face.
“Tray,” she warned.
“You love me,” I shrugged and cringed. Every part of me was sore.
“What I love is that apparently beating the hell out of one another was what you guys needed to get over yourselves.” She studied us.
We all had our one good eye trained back at her.
Under different circumstances, we’d probably laugh at how we’d all managed to end the fight with swollen, bruised right eyes.
“I do feel strangely better,” Mac admitted, shifting against the sofa carefully. I was pretty sure his right arm was dislocated, but none of us had the energy yet to help him pop it back into place.
“Yeah,” Dixon sort of moaned, lifting his foot onto the coffee table. “Think my leg looks wrong. Is my kneecap off center?” He touched his knee, trying to push it into place. “Yeah, that hurts like a mother. Gonna have to pop that back into place. Damn.”
“Ryder?” Catalina homed in on him, quirking an eyebrow.
“Honestly?” He shrugged, holding a bag of sweet corn against the left side of his face. “I still don’t know how I feel. But I also don’t want to kill these assholes anymore.”
“Good enough.” Our probably exhausted, de-facto mother finally seemed to relax.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” She moved to the leaning coffee table—one leg of it was snapped in half now—and pulled the bag out from where it was tucked beneath her arm.
Removing Tessa’s gown from the plastic, she placed it in the very center of the tabletop.
It slid slightly against the angled surface, then settled in place.
“This stays here. Here. Not over there,” she pointed at the kitchen, “or there,” she pointed at the entrance foyer, “or there.” Lastly, she pointed at the hall leading to our rooms.
“What about there?” I pointed at the ceiling.
She ignored me. “Get used to Tessa’s smell. Do whatever you need to do to relieve lingering hostility, so you guys don't become absolute, damn beasts again when she arrives. Blow a load. Fuck each other. Hit the gym. I really don’t care.”
“Blow a load.” I chuckled. “You got a way with words, CeeCee.”
“Yes, well. It’s why I’m one of the highest paid publicists in Los Angeles, thank you very much.” She cracked a slight smile.
I was glad to see that after the terror we’d just put her through. It meant we hadn’t irreparably damaged our relationship.
“The beauticians will be here in about two hours,” Cat continued.
“Please, for the love of all things holy, don’t cause any more damage in the meantime.
I’m going to my apartment to have a cup of tea.
Though no amount of chamomile is going to erase the memory of the UFC cage match that just happened in this living room,” she sighed, like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
Hell, the weight of our world actually did.
“I suppose I should call the carpenter again. Hopefully he can get the mantle and shelves and,” she paused and peered around the living room, “everything else fixed before Tessa’s here. ”
When she was gone, we all looked at one another. I didn’t know about the other guys, but I was feeling like a fucking idiot.
“Well, Dixon,” it was Ryder that broke the silence, “Guess you really aren’t the only one breaking shit now.”
I don’t know why—maybe because we were all in an adrenaline crash—but that was the funniest fucking thing anyone could have said. Wild, unchecked laughter filled the room.
And I knew our pack was going to be just fucking fine.