Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

NOW PLAYING: SUGAR - Sleep Token

Inside the diner, Shepherd ushers me and Foster into a massive corner booth, making sure we’re both sitting in the middle with alphas on either side. Given the number of booths and tables already filled with customers, I appreciate being away from the edge.

The fewer people I risk interacting with, the better.

Nexus slides in beside me with Callisto following along. Nebula and Titan each take an end. I roll my lips in to fight back a laugh at seeing the drummer squeeze his long legs beneath the table. Restaurant furniture isn’t built to accommodate a nearly seven-foot-tall alpha, especially not with several other huge alphas already in the booth.

A waitress pops up beside Titan a moment later, her eyes wide as she sees him squished into the booth with us. The customer service smile on her face turns real as her eyes roam over Pack Graves appreciatively.

A growl starts to rumble up my chest, but I manage to smother it with an awkward cough. Foster chuckles beside me, noticing and enjoying my struggle entirely too much.

These weird omega reactions need to take a break. I barely know this pack for goodness’ sake!

“Hello, I’m Amy, and I’ll be your waitress today,” she introduces.

When she tries to brush her fingers against Shepherd’s while passing out menus, I choke on a laugh as Foster leaps across the table. His growl vibrates in the booth as he snatches the rest of the menus and glares at Amy. Everyone knows not to flirt with an omega’s alpha, bonded or otherwise. We are very possessive of our mates.

“Please refrain from flirting with our packs. It is unprofessional and won’t be taken lightly,” Foster snarls.

I frown when he says ‘our packs’ as if I have any claim over the men sitting here, but when I see both Nexus and Callisto’s shoulders relax from the corner of my eye, I bite my tongue. I can let her assume they are mine to make them more comfortable.

“We’d like drinks and time to look over the menu,” Nebula tells her firmly.

She seems shaken by Foster’s reaction, quickly taking our drink orders and scurrying away. Shepherd soothes his disgruntled omega quietly. Whispering into Foster’s ear and reassuring him he had no interest in the waitress.

“You good, gorgeous?” Nexus whispers in my ear. I startle at his closeness.

“Yes, are you guys okay?” I ask with a furrowed brow. They seemed more tense during the situation than I was.

“Yeah, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck refusing to meet my eyes. “Cal doesn’t do well with altercations and I have pretty bad anxiety. Especially when I’m getting unwanted attention.”

Oh. He’s embarrassed.

Not that he should be. Anxiety is a very common thing to experience and it can happen to anyone regardless of their designation.

Though I guess the stigma around alpha strength, especially in states with stricter pack and designation policies, can easily make an alpha who experiences any type of serious mental distress feel ashamed.

“I understand. Where I grew up… it isn’t a welcoming place. I grew used to the violence and aggression. I don’t do well in large crowds, like back at the protest. Which is why I usually stick to the edges. My camera is my shield when I have to work around large numbers of people. Is that why you use the masks? So your fans can only see the person you want them to instead of them judging you for who you truly are?”

Nexus’ jaw gapes for a moment before he clears his throat and sits up straight. Suddenly looking very serious. “Sweet girl, I came woefully unprepared for this moment, something I will make up to you one day soon. Please say you’ll marry me?”

I splutter, my face heating rapidly as I try to comprehend what is happening at this table. “I–you–what?!”

“He’s joking,” Callisto says as he elbows his starry-eyed packmate.

“He’s not,” Titan drawls. “He’s excited because he feels seen.”

I can feel the entire pack’s eyes on me now. My cheeks grow warmer beneath their attention. At this rate, I might spend their entire tour blushing.

I’m grateful for the reprieve from our awkward encounter when Nebula draws our attention. “We choose to remain anonymous with the hope anyone listening will focus on the messages we try to send with our songs and not on who we are. Fate chose alphas to be the bridge between omegas and betas so we could form tight-knit groups to help balance out the emotional and physical demands of our biology. How else can we explain the cosmic connection that forms between mates?”

He pauses, his dark blue eyes never leaving me as the waitress reappears to deliver our drinks and take our food orders. I can’t look away, magnetized by the alpha before me. His scent seems to reach out and beckon me closer.

After she leaves, he continues. “More than that, we want everyone to be able to pursue the future Fate sets before them. Whether in a single pairing or a pack, everyone deserves the chance to be happy.”

I think over his words. Lyrics from their songs and catchphrases from their performances float through my mind. I can see it easily now he’s pointed it out. The lore surrounding their band and Fate was already something I was familiar with, but to hear it straight from one of their mouths makes the meaning deeper.

I guess that mindset is also why they attend DAU protests. To fight as a pack for the dreams they send out into the world with their music.

“It isn’t a foolproof plan,” Callisto adds. “While most of our followers respect our wish for privacy and focus on enjoying the music we create, there will always be fans who search endlessly to know who we are. To be able to share our identities and say they discovered them first.”

“The message matters more than the name,” I murmur as our food arrives. Nebula nods, his eyes flaring with appreciation. I focus on the various plates set around our table, unwilling to acknowledge the reaction my body is having to the heat visible in his gaze.

If I pretend this pull doesn’t exist long enough it will become reality, right?

Thankfully, the conversation turns to milder topics for the rest of our time at the diner. My attention is torn between stuffing my face with the perfectly greasy diner food and watching the way Pack Graves interacts. They are so at ease with each other. Smiling easily and laughing heartily. The love they hold for each other is palpable in every action.

Jealousy is an angry beast writhing in my chest, wishing I could afford to allow myself even a small taste of the same close bond they share.

After arguing with Shepherd about paying for my own food, we head back to the public lot we parked in. Pack Graves joins us, having parked up the street from us. The city is still bustling in the evening light; the streets are packed with cars, the sidewalks busy with people heading home for the day.

My skin starts to crawl from being around so many people for so long. I don’t make a habit of casually walking around in public. Always heading straight from A to B to lessen the chances of encountering someone who could recognize me.

As my anxiety grows, I can’t stop searching every face passing us by. The conversation around me fades as my anxiety grows to a roar drowning out the sound. A car horn sounds loudly from the street beside us and I startle, tripping over my own feet. Strong arms stop my fall and pull me upright.

Callisto’s concerned face fills my vision as sound rushes back in. “Are you alright?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” I choke out a shaky laugh, “just lost in my own world and the car horn startled me.” I attempt to brush off my overreaction but I can feel Shepherd’s narrowed gaze as he glances back at me from where he and Foster stopped a few feet ahead of us. Embarrassment washes over my skin when I find everyone’s eyes on me.

Disgruntled passersby grumble about us blocking the path so I usher our group along. The quicker we get back to the car park the better.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the lot Pack Graves is heading to comes into view. We stop at the entrance exchanging goodbyes.

“See you bright and early Wednesday morning, sweet girl! Only two days until I get to see your gorgeous face again! Can’t wait to show you around the bus!” Nexus calls cheerfully, walking backward into the lot and waving his arm in the air. I can’t hide my smile watching the four of them walk away.

“Omen, Omen, Omen,” Foster sings. His arm drops around my shoulders as he pulls me along beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show an interest in anyone before. How are you going to survive a two-month tour with them?” My elbow snaps out, catching him playfully in the side and earning a squeak of protest.

“They would be good for you,” Shepherd adds as he stops us several feet from our car. He carefully checks the vehicle before allowing us to climb inside. Always cautious in case someone has discovered his connection to the DAU.

“But I wouldn’t be good for them,” I whisper against the window as we pull out onto the street. My words get lost beneath the music playing from the stereo.

I’ve never shared the reason why I haven’t ever allowed anyone to pursue me before. They wouldn’t agree. Much like Bea, they’d remind me I was letting my family win by keeping everyone at arm's length.

Even if they’re right, I don’t think I can bring myself to take the risk. My fear runs too deep to escape its clutches.

A calloused finger runs across my collarbone before dipping down, dragging between my exposed breasts. The touch light, but filled with an electricity that pulses straight to my core. An inferno burns violently beneath my skin, slowly melting me from the inside out as a need unlike anything I’ve ever experienced forces a whine from my lips.

I blink my eyes open–or were they already open? It’s so dark I can’t tell. I search for the person on the other end of the digits swirling around my belly button, but my vision is hazy. A fog seems to settle around me, hiding the bodies I can sense gathered around me.

“Please,” I whimper, begging them to put an end to this torment. To ease the emptiness inside of me. Fingers dip between my parted thighs, dancing around my clit in a teasing, barely there touch before sinking lower.

Two sets of hands grip my thighs, pressing them further apart while the digits at my core part my folds. I’m spread wide open, unable to hide from the heavy weight of their stares.

I cry out when a particularly strong cramp throbs in my lower abdomen. My body tries to curl in on itself, to fight against the pain, but their hands immobilize me. Dark chuckles echo as the fog coiled around the figures shifts. I can’t see all of them, only the masks hiding their faces.

Masks I would recognize anywhere.

The now familiar scents of the members of Primordial Covenant wrap around me, bringing my desire to a fever pitch. Nebula stands between my spread thighs. The obsidian of his mask shimmering with little silver flecks of starlight.

Two of his thick fingers press against my opening before spearing inside. Slick soaks my thighs and the bed beneath me. The squelching sound of his movements fills the air around us and brings a tint of embarrassment to my heated cheeks.

Any shame falls away as he curls his fingers to rub against a spot that has fireworks bursting behind my closed eyes. “More, please,” I beg around a moan. My eyes pop open when fingers glide across the bottom of my breasts; my ecstasy spiraling higher when Nexus and Callisto both pinch my peaked nipples. The added spike of pleasure pushes me closer to the edge, but my release is just out of my grasp.

A hand digs into my messy hair, gripping tightly and forcing me to arch backward. Titan’s onyx eyes meet mine from below his mask as he towers above me. A smirk plays across his lips as he watches me tremble beneath him.

A third finger presses into my core stretching me further. The heat coursing over my skin contrasts with the cool feel of Nebula’s mask against my thigh. Jumbled pleas fall from my lips as they push my pleasure higher and higher.

The feeling of a mouth on my clit, tongue sliding rapidly across the bundle of nerves, and a mask digging into my skin, pushes me over the edge. I scream into the void as I explode. White hot pleasure ripples along my spine, stealing away any sense of space or time.

Their touches fade away as oblivion claims me. The silver glow of their masks matches the satisfaction settling inside me.

Consciousness slowly finds me. My muscles are sore, my stomach empty. Exhaustion weighs my limbs down. I cringe as I stare up at the ceiling of my nest remembering the vivid dream I had of Pack Graves. The most recent in a long string of them over the past year.

Desire still pulses mutely beneath my skin at the memory of their touch on my skin, even if it was only my imagined versions of them.

“Fucking bullshit instincts.”

A knock at my nest door pulls my attention away from the fantasy. I scoot close enough to open it a few inches and am met with a wide-eyed Bea as she covers her nose and backs up several steps.

“Damn girl, I thought your heat wasn’t supposed to hit for another three months?”

I frown at her and glance around my nest. “It’s not,” I sigh, realizing I must have had a mini-heat last night. “What time is it?”

“Almost three in the afternoon. I figured you were up late working, otherwise I would have checked in on you earlier,” Bea explains.

I force myself to climb to my feet and stumble into my bedroom. My body aches and I’m in desperate need of a shower and food. “A mini-heat, I think.”

Bea’s brows furrow in concern. “Do you want me to call Mom? You haven’t had one since you switched to your new birth control. If it isn’t working, we need to know before we head out on tour.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” I nod. “Will you call her while I shower and start airing out my nest?”

Bea agrees, stating she’ll also order something for dinner so I have food available when I’m finished. I shout my thanks before focusing on my tasks.

Grabbing the bedding from my nest and carrying it to the bathroom to throw in the washer leaves me out of breath. Post-heat exhaustion is no joke on a good day, but after a mini-heat where all of the same need is packed into a much shorter time? It can be debilitating.

I need a good day's worth of sleep to start recovering from the toll it is taking on my body. A long, hot shower at least helps take the edge off. I might soak in our tub later tonight if I can manage to stay awake for a few more hours.

By the time I’m clean and changed into comfy pajamas, I can hear Bea talking to her mom in the living room. I hurry to join them, groaning happily when the aroma of the food Bea ordered fills the air. I gratefully accept my take-out container and immediately start eating. They both laugh but settle onto the couch with me while I fill my empty stomach.

“Tell me what happened, sweetheart,” Shelby finally says, her voice ringing from the video call Bea has connected to her laptop.

I sit my empty plate on the coffee table with a sigh. “I think I had a mini-heat last night.”

“Okay. Did you have any pre-heat symptoms yesterday?” She asks.

“I don’t think so. No fever or cramping. No irritability or nesting either.” I pause, thinking back on when I had returned home last night. “Well, maybe some nesting. I thought it was just residual anxiety from being out in public for so long…”

“It could be from both. Have you missed any doses of your birth control pills?” Shelby pulls a notepad from her desk drawer while she waits for me to answer. I tell her I haven’t and she frowns. Her pen taps against the paper.

“We should probably do some blood work, just in case, but unless this becomes a regular occurrence, I don’t see a reason to look into changing medicines yet. The brand you’re using now has been working and I’d rather not risk switching you to something that may have more severe side effects. Not while you are traveling. We can take that route when the tour is over if need be.”

After I was taken in by the Powells, I started having brutal mini-heats as a side effect of the heat inducer I was drugged with the day I presented. Shelby was the one who suggested using birth control to help regulate my fluctuating hormones. The first few brands we tried had side effects more unmanageable than the mini-heats themselves.

Luckily, we finally discovered a newer company, whose product helps with the heats without the rougher side effects the other brands had. I’ve been taking them ever since. The thought I may be developing a resistance to them settles uncomfortably. I don’t want to have to go through the process of finding a substitute again any time soon.

“Don’t stress yourself worrying about it, Oms,” Bea reminds me. “We’re going on tour tomorrow and it is going to be the time of our lives! If we have to fix your pills, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

She always has my back and I know no matter what happens over the next two months, she’ll be there to support me.