Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Now Playing: We All Meet Up In the End- Attack Attack!

I’m at a standstill. My health stagnant with the help of the medicine Dr. Russell prescribed me. I can’t decide what is worse: the spiraling decline or this static, slow downfall.

Bea dances into my room, a smile painted on her face. Worry still fills her dark blue eyes, but she seems hopeful. “It’s almost time!” Her excitement is palpable, bringing a small smile to my lips. I watch from my bed as she throws open my closet and starts searching through my clothes. She turns around a second later with a pair of high-waisted shorts in her hand.

My head shakes rapidly, making her frown. My body is still mottled from the bruises covering my skin. If she’s going to demand I go out with her, I’m going to wear clothes I feel comfortable in. I throw on a pair of cuffed skinny jeans and a black band tee and grab a black and white flannel to throw over the shirt in case I start to get cold at the show later.

She chatters about her work with the label while she does my hair, easily pulling the messy strands into two French braids. “The paperwork is endless,” she complains. “Half the time I feel like Acherley is sending me nonsense just to fuck with me.”

Apparently working with a band on tour is immensely different than when she works out of their office.

I listen quietly as she talks, my eyes drooping with the exhaustion still weighing me down. She presses a mug of coffee into my hands, one eyebrow raised as if she’s daring me to object to the energy boost. My nose scrunches at the bitter aftertaste of the drink, but I suffer through drinking it. If it makes Bea happy and takes the concern from her eyes for a bit, I’ll fake a smile and sway along to the music.

My feet are slipping into my shoes when I hear raised voices from our living room. I frown, wondering who she’s arguing with. Stepping closer to the doorway I hear Foster’s frustration filtering back to me. “She needs them, Bea!”

“They tossed her aside like she was trash on their doorstep!” Bea objects. “She deserves better than those assholes!”

My brows furrow hearing her talk about my Fate matches mates. She isn’t wrong, which makes the persistent ache in my heart worse. They did cast me aside like my connection to them held no value, but she is also choosing to ignore the lies and secrets I had told to keep my identity as Sarah Montgomery hidden.

“She’s doing better, Foster! I’m not going to allow them to come rushing back into her life so they can hurt her all over again.” Bea speaks firmly, her stubborn omega side shining through.

“Omen isn’t doing better, she just isn’t getting worse! The medicine they gave her is only a temporary solution, not a cure,” Foster reminds her. “The only permanent solution for her rejection is to bond with her mates.”

“So they can break her again as soon as they hit another bump in the road? I won’t risk putting her through this again. We will find another way.”

“Bea,” Foster begs. “Regardless of our feelings toward Pack Graves, it isn’t our decision to make. Omen needs to choose what path to take for herself. Something she can’t do with you blocking them from even speaking with her!”

“He’s right,” I cut in before Bea can respond. They both startle when they see me leaning against the doorway to my bedroom. “I love you to pieces, Bea, and I appreciate you wanting to protect me. But it’s my choice whether I let them back into my life or not.”

“You barely survived the first time–”

“I am intimately aware of how close I came to dying,” I hiss. Shaking my head, I clear my own growing frustration. Bea is only trying to do what she thinks is best, even if it isn’t her place to do so. “Have the guys been trying to reach out to me through you?”

Her lips purse and she looks away. My shoulders droop at her unspoken admission. I don’t know how I feel about my mates trying to reach out to me now. What reason could they possibly have for this sudden change of heart? Guilt after seeing my encounter with my father on TV?

That’s probably it. Their instincts are urging them to take care of me after watching me get my ass kicked. I’ll have to write to them later to appease their worries so they can get back to their lives.

“What time do we need to leave?”

Bea and Foster both seem grateful for the change of topics, so I offer them small smiles. We can deal with their argument later when we don’t have a night out to enjoy.

The concert venue is already packed when we arrive. Thankfully, Bea managed to snag us balcony seats so I won’t have to spend the next several hours on my feet.

Foster grabs us drinks from the bar on this floor, non-alcoholic since his alpha isn’t with us. Neither of them was willing to leave Hannah and my niece Kaitlin unattended for the evening, even with my father behind bars. Noise from the crowd grows as the stage lights up in cotton candy pink and royal purple. Since the show is in their hometown, and is a one-night event, they don’t have an opening act. We get to jump straight into the badassery Candy Courage brings to the stage.

Bea shrieks in excitement when the band’s lead singer Azalea dances onto the stage, her wavy blonde hair bouncing with each step. She’s sunshine personified. A personality contrasting with her killer pipes and guttural screams. “Hello Camden, are you ready to ascend to a saccharine haven?”

I chuckle when Bea’s cheers nearly drown out the sound of the crowd below us. If she wasn’t feeling the pull to Shiloh, Lex, and Ridley, my best friend would be jumping at the chance to shoot her shot with the female alphas getting set up to rock the venue.

We get lost in their music. Letting the grim lyrics and melodic instrumentals bring a moment of peace to our weathered souls. I even manage to dance alongside Bea and Foster for several songs before I grow winded and collapse back into my seat. A smile is plastered to my face and I make a note to thank my bestie later. Attending a concert was exactly what I needed to help dull the sharper edges of my mental funk for the evening.

“Guess what?” Iris, the band’s bassist, purrs into a mic. Her bubblegum pink hair is nearly as long as mine, but she’s pulled hers up into two half-up, half-down pigtails with sparkly neon ribbons tied through the top. “We have a very special surprise for you tonight! Some friends of ours asked if they could come to our show and perform with us. Apparently, they owe one of you one hell of an apology.”

Bea sucks in a sharp breath beside me, her eyes wide with a hint of panic in the dark orbs.

“You want to do the honors, Zale?” Iris looks at her bandmate as she speaks into the mic, their faces nearly brushing from how close they are standing.

“YES! Please welcome, our close friends, a band you may recognize from our last tour–Primordial Covenant!”

My chest feels like a jackhammer pounds against my ribs as I watch the four men I once hoped to call my own walk onto the stage. Bea and Foster are whispering heatedly beside me, but I can’t comprehend what they’re saying. Nothing filters through my tumultuous thoughts except the pain and longing vibrating through my body.

They’re here, only a few yards away, yet it feels like a lifetime still separates us.

Nexus steps up to the mic beside Azalea, drawing my eyes to him. His costume is different. The mask is the same, but he now wears a dark hooded cloak that twists and curves, feathering down his body like wings wrapped tight around him. Sleek black pants painted with tiny galaxies are paired with armor-esque boots. He truly appears as a harbinger of sensuality as he grips the mic stand in his palm.

Heat flares in my core as my eyes roam over him, but it fades beneath the pain their presence causes. Nexus made his choice. They all did.

And they didn’t choose me.

With sharp pangs lancing through my chest, I rip my eyes away from him. Callisto’s costume looks the same, but his mask is different. It’s been reshaped and elongated, with an additional set of eyeholes to create an eerie celestial look.

Nebula leans against the beta’s side, his bass hanging around his waist as they wait for Azalea to finish their introduction. He still wears the same obsidian mask, but he’s donned a leather jacket decorated with silver runes to add a splash of color. Even hidden, I can sense his eyes roaming over the crowd. They’re all searching, trying to find me, so I sink deeper into my seat hoping the bars of balcony railing will hide me.

When I feel heat crawling slowly up my neck, I know I’ve failed. No one points me out or says anything about our broken connection, they just begin to play.

Dark, melodic notes float through the air. Each one settles against my soul like a weighted blanket, offering me a comfort I had forgotten existed in my bleak world. Nexus’ sensual voice rings through the venue when the first verse begins, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. The same way his amber and oud scent feels when I’m in his arms.

I let their lyrics soak into my mind, attempting not to read into their meaning. Internally scolding myself each time my thoughts start to stray toward the mirage of hope on the horizon.

When Callisto’s voice joins Nexus my jaw drops. In all of the times they’ve played, he’s never sung on stage before. I’d heard him sing once, outside of their bus late at night, and he has a lovely voice. Much softer than Nexus’ smoky timbre. More ethereal. He compliments his alpha well.

After the first chorus Azalea joins them, hyping up their nearly rabid fans. The beat drops as she screams and it feels like I’m flying. Soaring through the depths of a thunderstorm. Lightning strikes illuminate the darkened pieces of my soul for a few brief seconds before they’re plunged into oblivion once more.

I can barely breathe, my lungs burning as they refuse to work. Foster smacks my back hard enough to force me to take a deep breath. He looks as concerned as I feel when I’m finally able to focus on something that isn’t the stage. I shake my head, offering him a dull half-smile.

When the show comes to an end, Bea tries to guide me to the exit, but there’s no point in leaving now. And honestly, I don’t want to. I owe it to myself to meet my mates face to face and tell them all of the things I kept hidden from them during our time together on their tour.

I’m already a broken omega, what do I have to lose?

Sitting in a meet and greet with the girls of Candy Courage should have been a heavenly experience. I may not be as obsessed with them as Bea is, but I’m still a big fan. It’s impossible to focus on the conversation in the green room when I can feel the missing pieces of my soul lingering in the hallway outside.

As the other fans with VIP passes slowly trickle out, my heart starts to race. I’m not ready for this. To face the mates who rejected me. They must have seen the livestream of the confrontation with my birth father. A misplaced sense of responsibility is the only reason I can imagine to explain their presence. What can I say to assuage their guilt? I forgive you for slowly killing me by abandoning me for a situation out of my control?

My panic grows as the room clears. One of Candy Courage’s security staff opens the back hall door and I’m immediately assaulted with the comforting scents of my Fate matched mates. Why do they have to smell so damn good? I have to tense every muscle in my body to stop from throwing myself across the room to get closer to them. To feel their skin against mine.

Titan walks in first. His dark tattoos on display beneath the smeared silver paint on his chest. Sadness seeps into my heart as I trace over what I can see of the designs. I never really got to explore them, to learn what they mean and why he chose them. His pink pepper and leather scent sours as he freezes across the room, eyes blinking rapidly.

Nebula follows him in, the smoked vanilla and tobacco of his scent taking on an acrid tone. The large alpha falls to his knees beside his packmate, a pained sound whistling through his parted lips. I quickly look away from him, unable to meet his eyes for fear of encountering the hatred I know he harbors there.

Shifting my gaze back to the door, my heart stutters when I see Nexus leaning heavily on Callisto. The singer has one hand pressed to his mouth to muffle the sound of his crying. His rich brown eyes are wrecked as he stares at me. The dark circles beneath them have my lips twitching into a frown. He looks as bad as I feel, but why?

Callisto helps his alpha sit in one of the empty chairs by the door before he takes a deep breath and meets my eyes. His stunning dual-tone eyes sparkle with unshed tears and what looks an awful lot like regret.

Quickly ducking my head, I keep my eyes trained on the floor between us. I can’t handle the regret and guilt pouring off of them in heavy waves. My stupid, fragile heart is trying to convince me the emotions they’re conveying are real, but why would they change their minds so suddenly?

No. They don’t want me. Their feelings were made clear when they turned their backs on me and cut off all means of communication between us. Whatever their reason for being here, it doesn’t change anything. I’m still the omega they rejected.