Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NOW PLAYING: AQUA Regia- Sleep Token

Sunlight streams against my eyelids, making my nose wrinkle from the unexpected brightness. My mini-nest is usually dark and moody. Blinking my eyes open, I suck in a breath when I remember falling asleep in the bed with Pack Graves while we were watching movies.

Soft snores fill my ears where Nexus lays behind me. His arm is firm but warm beneath my head, his hand stretched out to tangle in Callisto’s hair. The sweet beta’s face rests close enough I can feel the puff of his breath against my forehead. His mouth slack and slightly open as he sleeps. My finger traces the edge of his jaw and down his nose, careful not to actually touch his skin so I don’t wake him.

My bladder protests my lack of urgency so I shift to crawl from the tangle of their limbs. The hand resting on my stomach flexes. I still, barely breathing when I realize my shirt has ridden up so those calloused fingers are pressing against bare skin. Biting back a moan at the feeling of the large hand splayed across my skin, I follow the limb to see Nebula wrapped around Nexus’ back. His arm is stretched over his packmate’s hip to reach me.

Taking a breath to steady myself–and hopefully get my horny hindbrain to take a chill pill–I try to wiggle down the bed, only to freeze when Nexus grinds his very erect cock against my ass. A soft moan slips past my lips at the feeling and I silently curse myself for not making sure I had an alarm set so Lex could bring me back to the bus.

These men are too tempting for my own good. I’m too close to giving in, tossing caution to the wind, and having my wicked way with all four of them. Something I absolutely cannot do with so many secrets still between us.

“Here,” Titan’s voice is thick with sleep as he offers me a hand. He’s standing at the end of the bed in nothing but a pair of obscene gray sweatpants. Drool pools in my mouth seeing the thick outline of his morning wood. He chuckles, bringing a burning heat to my cheeks. My eyes shoot up to meet his and I relax seeing only amusement and a touch of desire in his dark orbs.

Taking his hand, I let him pull me from the bed. His massive hands grip my elbow to steady me on my feet before he steps back. His lips twitch into a half smile before he nods and heads out into the main room of their suite.

Glancing back at the bed, I wish I had my camera so I could capture the image of Callisto and Nexus wrapped around each other, Nebula’s arm thrown over both men where he sleeps face down beside them. They’re so freaking cute!

Tiptoeing into their en suite I quickly relieve my bladder and find a new toothbrush to clean my mouth with. The huge pack shower with multiple shower heads calls to me, but I push the thought away. I really need to find my phone and check in with Lex. Plus I don’t have any clean clothes to change into so the shower would be a waste of water.

In the main part of their room, I find Nebula awake and leaning against the counter with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. Titan lounges beside him, having opted for an energy drink instead. Both men’s eyes snap to me when I walk in. Their attention is heady, my body’s awareness of their perusal making my core flood with slick. It’s also frightening.

I’ve been leered at by boys in school, but that wasn’t like this. No one has ever looked at me the way they do. They look at me like I’m the Northern Lights brightening up their darkened skies.

Shaking away the fear threatening to take hold of my heart, I offer them a small smile and soft ‘good morning’.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, little omega?” Nebula asks.

“No, thank you. I’m not a coffee drinker.”

“Energy drink?” Titan offers, but I shake my head.

“I’m good. I was actually looking for my phone. I fell asleep before I could tell Lex I was crashing here…” I trail off as I look around the small room.

“We called Bea and let them know you’d fallen asleep here, so no worries. Lex said he’d be over to get you this morning if you wanted to head back to your bus. You are also welcome to ride to Milwaukee with us if you want.”

My heart beats faster hearing Nebula’s words. They made sure my bodyguard and best friend knew I was safe without me having to ask them. I almost want to say fuck it and stay with them until I have to get ready for their next show, but I definitely need a shower and some space after waking up wrapped in their arms.

I’m afraid if I stay I’ll give in to this pull growing between us, and I don’t think I’m ready to lay my secrets bare before them yet. Not while my fear of our connection is still so strong.

“Next time?” I offer weakly. Thankfully he nods, his blue eyes disappointed, but understanding.

Lex shows up a half hour later, ushering me out of their suite and to the car so we can make it back to the bus in time to leave for our next stop. Bea was still asleep when we returned so I grabbed a quick shower, stashing my clothes from the night before in the pile of blankets on my bed. Inhaling deeply, my soul feels content with their scents filling my nest.

“Knock, knock!” Bea says as she swings my nest door open. I know the moment she catches hints of their scents in the air because her dark blue eyes narrow on me. “Well, I was here to see if you wanted food, but now I’m much more interested in hearing all the tea from your first date!”

Laughing, I push her out of the room and toward the living area. No way I’m letting her stay in my nest with the guy’s scents in there. Just having her in the doorway makes me agitated.

Ridley is dishing up whatever they made for lunch. I grin when I see stuffed French toast and maple syrup piled on the plate. It’s even blueberry–my favorite! “You’re the best!”

“Ugh, come on,” Bea grumbles as she pushes me away from Ridley. I hide my smirk behind my plate.

“So,” my bestie asks around a mouthful, “did you finally get some musician dick?”

Ridley splutters, choking on his coffee. Watching him pound his chest, I roll my eyes at Bea. I know she said it on purpose. Brat mode has been activated. These poor alphas are going to go crazy putting up with her today.

“No.”

She waits several seconds for more, but I just stare at her, one eyebrow raised, and eat my late breakfast. “That’s it? Where are the details? Did you go over to their hotel to sit in a corner and stare at the wall?!”

“Nope,” I chuckle. “We played games and watched movies. Hung out. You know, the normal things friends do?”

“Oms, if those guys want to be your ‘friend’, I’ll eat an entire habanero. Raw. Those masked hotties are literally panting after you all the damn time. If they aren’t already head over heels in love with you, they’re on their way there.” Bea shrugs as if she isn’t reminding me of the thing I’m the most terrified of.

I haven’t told her the true extent of my fears regarding building a relationship with Primordial Covenant, so to her maybe this isn’t as shattering as it seems to me. Letting my walls down I show her the true depth of my fear. “I’m terrified, Bee.”

“Sometimes life can be really fucking scary, Oms, but you’ve already faced some of the most horrifying things this life has to offer. What’s the worst that could happen?” Opening my mouth, she cuts me off with a glare. “Aside from your birth father finding you and them and doing horrible things to you.”

Taking my birth family out of the equation, I search my heart and find the root of my fear. “They could find out who I am–who I was–and walk away,” I whisper.

“Oh, Oms.” Bea scoots across the couch to pull me into a tight hug. “No matter what happens you aren’t alone. Not ever again. We’re ride-or-die. You can’t escape me now.”

The boys’ concert in Milwaukee was as glorious as their other performances but relatively uneventful. We’d spent time in their tour bus again afterward, with Bea and our bodyguards in tow too, playing board games and enjoying the post-concert bliss.

Unfortunately, we ended up calling it an early night since we had to leave Milwaukee by six in the morning to make it to Grand Rapids in time for sound check and set up. We are all sharing a hotel block in Grand Rapids since the city has limited space for the tour buses to park overnight.

I can’t fight back a sense of unease as we climb into our SUV to head over to the theater where the guys will be performing. Some primal part of my instincts tells me we need to be cautious. It isn’t until we reach the red light where we turn onto the street where tonight’s performance will take place I realize why.

Police barriers block the street, the red and blue lights casting the tan stone of the venue into color. Officers stand on the other side directing traffic away from the venue’s entrance. All along the road opposite the venue, filling the sidewalk outside of the venue’s fenced-in parking lot, are anti-pack protestors.

The cars up front of us stop to speak with one of the officers and we wait while the barrier is moved. The closer we get to the main entrance, the more protesters we can see.

A small park sits diagonal from the theater and a large crowd fills the closest corner. A wiry man stands on a makeshift podium, a megaphone in his hand as he leads the chants of the crowd. My eyes track from sign to sign, my fingers gripping the edge of the seat tight enough to make my knuckles white. ‘Stop the Primordial Covenant concert!’, ‘Abolish Pack Rights’, ‘Packs = Problems’.

Most of the signs and their chants are tame, but as our cars stop and the guys climb out of their SUV ahead of us, their tone changes.

‘Designations are an abomination.’

‘ABO Dynamics are killing our planet.’

My mind is drawn back to similar speeches I’d heard growing up and my breaths become ragged.

The entire congregation is silent, holding to the edge of their seats as they absorb his every word. He’s removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in an attempt to appear more casual, more approachable.

A group of churchgoers from a small town across the border in Vermont have made the trek into New Hampshire for today’s service. He wants to impress them. To spread his hatred of packs and designations further out into the world.

“These designations are a test. Falling prey to the false instincts the Devil has forced upon our bodies will not lead you to salvation. We of God’s flock must hold fast. Remain faithful to His word. Take a stand against the alphas and omegas who try to turn you from our Lord. Only through strength and sacrifice shall we be granted forgiveness.”

My lungs burn from holding my breath and my chest feels tight from the panic pounding in time with the beat of my heart. I can feel the leather seats crinkling beneath my hands where I’m clinging to the edge of the seat to try to ground myself, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of my racing pulse and the echo of my past.

I startle when a hand shakes my shoulder, pulling my eyes away from the noisy protestors. Lex leans into the SUV, his eyes narrowed as he studies me. “You good?” I swallow heavily trying to find words to reassure him I am alright. Even when I’m not. “We’re changing our plans. You’ll only be working from the stage tonight.”

I manage to pull myself out of the beginning stages of a panic attack and crawl out of the car with my camera bag in tow. Moving my hair to the front of my face, I use it to block my face from any flashing cameras.

Grand Rapids wasn’t one of the stops I was concerned about initially. The closest vocal anti-designation group is almost a thousand miles away. Why are there so many signs showing otherwise?

We make it inside the venue and tensions are high. Apparently, I’m not the only one who hadn’t expected this outcome of our stop here in Michigan.

Brady whistles, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’re still performing. The fans are still coming. They’ve paid to see a kickass show and that’s what we are going to give them!” Cheering sounds from some of the crew, the manager's words seem to lessen the air of worry everyone is wading in. “Local police are going to be on-site all night, keeping them in check and guiding traffic. We’re taking all of the necessary steps to keep the fans, the bands, and the crews safe. Let’s focus on the show and let the music bring a bit of peace to this city!”

Everyone slowly rolls into action, setting up equipment and getting ready for sound check. I follow Bea across the room to meet with the other manager for further directions for this evening.

“Ah, Omen, did they let you know about the change in your contract for tonight?” Brady asks as soon as he sees us approach.

“Yeah, they did. Thank you. I appreciate the label’s dedication to my safety.” Brady waves me off, reminding me they would do the same for any of their staff, especially those who are omegas.

After a quick debrief on the other minor changes–a heavier security presence stage front and more thorough bag checks at the doors–I head to the stage area to start scoping out the best angles I can get for my shots.

Glancing out at the venue’s interior I’m almost sad I won’t be working from the crowd tonight. With the cathedral-style ceiling, tiered seating, and plenty of outside nooks, I could easily get some great shots. Sadly, in this instance, the risk would certainly not be worth the reward.

“You should get a drone,” Lex suggests from where he walks behind me.

My head tilts to the side as I consider what he’s said, imagining being able to use a small device like a drone to capture not only still images, but video from the crowd at any venue we visit. “That’s a good idea. I don’t know much about drones though, so I’ll have to do some research before I purchase one. Maybe for the West Coast portion of the tour.”

He nods and hangs back, watching the venue and responding to messages on his phone as I capture some reference shots.

Finished with what I can do now, I head backstage to find somewhere out of the way to chill until the shows start. I pause at the curtain before asking my next question, unsure if I will be overstepping, but needing an answer anyway. “Do we know what’s up with the group outside? Why are they here?”

My paranoia swears the protestors are a message. A threat to the bubble of safety I’ve been living in for the past several years. My mind screams ‘he’s found us!’ and fighting the instinct to run and hide is growing increasingly more difficult with each second ticking by.

“We have an idea, yeah. According to the higher-ups, Senator Pierson and his campaign team were in town while we were in Chicago. They believe the Senator and his backers are utilizing their supporters to stage protests outside of events with known DAU connections. While Primordial Covenant hasn’t directly revealed their support of the organization, many of the studios’ execs have. Both here and on the West Coast.”

“So, you think they are targeting the label’s events?” I inquire.

“It is very likely. Which means we can expect other similar situations to occur at our other anti-pack state destinations as well,” Lex informs me. I can tell he’s concerned for how I reacted when we first arrived.

“I won’t freak out every time we encounter a protest, I promise,” I mutter. My cheeks are a little warm knowing he’s seen me at so many weak points over the past week. “I know it seems odd with my paranoia and social anxiety, but protests are something I’ve grown used to. As long as I expect them, I won’t panic the way I did earlier.”

“I was mildly curious how such a large portion of your portfolio involves DAU protests given your triggers.”

Lowering my voice, I walk closer to my bodyguard so no one else can overhear me. “Donovan suggested it, and he was right. DAU events give me a way to fight back without risking exposure.”

A few hours later, I step backstage after the show comes to an end. I’d gotten lost behind the lens, letting my work drown out the thread of anxiety still pulsing through me. Pack Graves put on a stellar show. Their performance had a sharper edge than it normally does. A direct response to the bullshit still being spewed outside.

“Listen up,” Brady calls from his spot in the wings. The bands and Bea are already gathered around him so we make our way over to join them. “One more change. Another big one. We’ve canceled our reservations at the hotel here in Grand Rapids. The label is going to eat the cost of the cancellation and has booked us a bus site in northern Ohio. We’re heading there as soon as everyone is back on their buses and ready to go.”

Quiet murmurs spread through the crowd as the various groups start making plans to get their stuff from the hotels and head to where our buses are parked outside of the city. I trust Lex and Ridley to have a handle on our plans, so I remain quiet.

I’m glad we have a day off after this. We are all going to need a minute to adjust to the new reality of our tour. Especially when our next stops are in Tennessee and Kentucky. Two areas much closer to anti-designation groups in states with stricter anti-pack policies than here in Michigan.