5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

S tanding off to the side of the raised dais, King stared out at the crowd assembled in the grand ballroom. Nearly two hundred lucky fans had paid to meet their favorite celebrities in person, and they hadn't come empty-handed, either. From blinking signs to printed photographs, they waved their treasures in the air as they waited for Storm and Damien to take the stage.

They appeared immeasurably excited, but also surprisingly young. One girl in the front row really couldn't have been more than fourteen. Hell, she'd probably come straight from school to be there.

Knowing they would all sacrifice just about anything to take his place felt incredibly surreal.

His and Storm's first kiss had been relatively tame, yet he still felt the effects of it three hours later. His lips tingled from the memory, and his pulse still hadn't returned to a normal rhythm. Of course, that could have been partly from nerves, but he experienced a spike in his heart rate every time he exhaled and caught a hint of Storm's unique taste that lingered on his tongue.

While not something he would typically find appealing, the mixture of cinnamon gum and dark coffee had now become his favorite combination.

"Are you okay?"

Startled out of his thoughts, he blinked at Arlo a couple of times, trying to make sense of the question. "I think so."

"You look pale."

Did he? Odd. He felt like he was on fire. "I'm really okay."

"Nervous?"

"Obviously." He saw no point in lying about it.

"Worried?"

That one was a little harder to answer. He trusted Storm, and he believed they were doing the right thing. Neither of them wanted to hide their relationship, and after that kiss, feigning disinterest would be damn near impossible.

At the same time, he did have concerns. Not so much for himself. Despite Storm's warnings, he honestly didn't think his life would change too drastically. His mate, however, had his entire career on the line. Possibly even his life.

That might sound dramatic, but Storm wouldn't be the first celebrity to fall victim to some obsessed fan. Granted, as far as he knew, the shifter didn't have any deranged stalkers, but crazier things had happened.

"A little," he finally admitted.

Distracted by the conversation, he didn't hear Skye announce the guests of honor, but he knew the moment they took the stage, thanks to the deafening cheers. It wasn't just the noise, though. The entire ballroom erupted into a frenzy. Fans flew out of their seats with screams and squeals. Some waved their signs and banners. Others jumped up and down as they flailed their limbs like a one-person mosh pit.

He even spotted a few violently weeping after being so overcome with emotions. Flattering, sure, but also mildly frightening. He didn't think he'd ever been that excited or passionate about anything, let alone another person.

"Wow," Arlo said. "I mean, I get being excited, but this is—"

"Insane." King supplied with a dip of his head.

"I don't know how they do this all the time."

"I guess they're used to it."

King shrugged, but honestly, he had to agree with his friend. He didn't think he would ever be able to get used to this kind of reaction every time he entered a room.

"You look good, by the way."

Priya had wanted to make sure that he looked the part of a celebrity's mate when he took the stage with Storm. As such, she had dressed him in a pair of artfully ripped jeans with a cream-colored blazer over a black V-neck. Then he'd been buffed and polished to a shine by the makeup team, and his unruly curls had been tamed into something almost manageable.

Storm had found the entire ordeal insulting, insisting that he looked perfect just the way he was. He appreciated the sentiment, but he hadn't shared his mate's offense. Frankly, he had been happy to accept any help he could get.

"I thought I looked pale."

Arlo snorted. "Shut up, asshole. You know what I mean."

"I do, and thank you."

It took another few minutes for the room to quiet enough for Damien to speak. The instant he opened his mouth, however, the uproarious din started all over again.

"Thank you!" Damien called. He wore a big, ingratiating smile as he waved a hand in the air in an attempt to bring some kind of order to the chaos. "Thank you all so much for coming out tonight!"

Eventually, apart from a steady thrum of murmured conversation, the crowd settled.

"We're excited to be here with you," Damien continued. "I know you guys have a lot of questions, and we'll do our best to answer them."

"But first," Storm interjected, stepping forward until he stood at the edge of the stage. "We have an announcement to make." He ducked his head and chuckled in a self-deprecating kind of way. "Well, I guess I should say I have an announcement."

"Are you leaving the show?" one brave fan called out.

Storm laughed again. "No, no, nothing like that."

The collective relief that swept through the room was palpable. As long as he wasn't abandoning them, they seemed primed and willing to hear anything else he had to say.

So far, so good.

"Are you and Damien together?" A young man with a bright pink mohawk and horn-rimmed glasses stood from his seat. "Is that the announcement?"

King held his breath.

"I'm afraid not." The smile never slipped from Storm's face, and if he was nervous, he didn't show it. "You're close, though."

The whispers intensified as the fans all turned to each other, trying to guess what the cryptic statement meant. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long to find out. King, on the other hand, could have a used a few more minutes to prepare for what was to come.

"Storm and I have always been honest with you. We're friends, best friends, but nothing more." Taking a step back, Damien looked to the edge of the stage, right at King, and motioned for him to join them. "That fact has never been more important than it is now because…"

He trailed off, leaving everyone on the edge of their seats with bated breath. Even King found it hard to breathe as he made his way to the center of the dais—after a gentle push from Arlo—to take his place beside Storm.

"Because," Storm said, picking up where his co-star had left off. Clearly, they had done this many times in the past. "I am officially off the market." Sliding his hand down King's arm, he linked their fingers together and pulled him closer. "Everyone, I would like to officially introduce my mate, Kingston Mathers."

There was a heartbeat of silence, a quiet so profound King could feel it in the pit of his stomach. It couldn't have lasted more than a second, two at the most, but to him, it felt like an eternity.

Then, just as panic started to set in, the room erupted into the loudest, most boisterous cheers he'd ever heard. Voices reverberated off the high ceiling, and the windows at the back of the room vibrated with the volume of their acceptance.

They also wasted no time hurling about a billion questions at the stage, most of them alarmingly directed at King.

"What kind of Otherling are you?" one girl with reddish orange hair asked from one of the middle rows.

So startled by this sudden development, King nearly dropped the microphone when Storm passed it to him. In none of their preparation had he considered that he might have to interact or answer questions of his own. He had assumed Storm would take care of that while he stood there and tried not to hyperventilate.

"Uh, I'm not an Otherling." His voice cracked twice, but he pulled his shoulders back and cleared his throat. Even if his insides felt like they'd been put through a paint mixer, he was determined not to embarrass his mate. "I'm human."

For some reason, this seemed to ignite another bout of excitement from the crowd. He didn't really understand it, but he didn't have time to think about it before more questions came flying at him.

"Do you work together?"

"Actually, I work here at the hotel."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

And on and on it went. Although he hadn't anticipated that he'd need to participate, he had expected questions about his and Storm's relationship. Yet, no one seemed to care about those types of mundane details. Instead, the fans wanted to know everything they could about him specifically.

At first, it didn't make sense. Apart from his connection to Storm, he was about the least interesting person on the planet. As the interrogation continued, however, he slowly began to realize that was precisely why they cared so much.

He was a nobody. Just a human from a humble background with no money or influence to speak of. He was a regular guy who happened to be destined to fall in love with a superstar. It was the ultimate fairytale, and his story gave them hope that they might one day find their own.

"How did you know you were mates?" A male, a boy with a mop of blond hair who looked no older than sixteen, asked.

"To be honest, I didn't have any idea at first." Taking his cue from Storm, he chuckled lightly and lowered his gaze. "Downside of being human, I guess."

"But you are sure you two are really mates?" It was the same guy with the pink mohawk, and he sounded more accusatory than curious.

"I'm sure," Storm interjected. "Believe me, it's not something an Otherling would get wrong."

"King, are you happy?" The female who spoke looked a bit older, maybe closer to his age, and she graced him with the warmest, sweetest smile. "I mean, is this something you wanted?"

He took a moment to really consider her question, but not so long that anyone would think he wasn't telling the truth. "Being mated to Storm isn't something I even knew I could want. I still can't believe it's real, you know? But yes, I am extremely happy, and I'll let you in on a little secret about Storm Black."

The crowd quieted and subconsciously leaned closer, clearly eager to hear the insider information about the shifter.

"He is one hundred percent as incredible as you think he is."

"Oh, my gosh, he's so cute!" one girl in the front row shouted as the rest of the room exploded into squeals and giggles.

King cleared his throat and thrust the microphone back to Storm as his face burned about twenty different shades of pink. When someone asked Damien what he thought about the news, he took that as his cue to make a quiet exit.

Only, Storm apparently had other ideas. Instead of letting him slip away unnoticed, he squeezed King's hand and dragged him back for a quick, chaste kiss. Which, of course, initiated more giggles, screams, and applause from the fans.

"My mate, everyone!" Storm said into the microphone. "Isn't he amazing?"

King finally made his way to the back of the stage amidst a chorus of agreements and practically collapsed into Arlo's arms. "I'm going to kill him."

"You loved it, and you know it." Still, Arlo stroked his head comfortingly. "The fans did, too. You did great."

"Do you really think so?" King lifted his head to meet those mesmerizing amber eyes. "You're not just saying that?"

"I really mean it. Have I ever lied to you?"

True. Even when he might not want to hear it, Arlo had always been honest with him. If he had made a total ass out of himself out there, he trusted his best friend to tell him so.

"Okay. Good." He straightened and took a couple of deep breaths. "I just need a minute. Can you keep an eye on things here?"

"Sounds like they've finally course-corrected to talk about the show, so take your time."

Sure enough, once he tuned back into the conversation, he could hear Damien discussing his character in the drama. "Still, just text me if anything happens."

Arlo rolled his eyes and nudged him in the middle of the back. "Nothing is going to happen. Go. Take a breath. Get something to drink. I'll hold down the fort."

"Thanks. Do you want anything from the café?"

"A large, iced cherry bomb."

King arched an eyebrow. "What the hell is that?"

"Something new." Arlo shrugged. "A chocolate cherry mocha."

It didn't sound all that palatable to him, but he smiled and nodded before exiting through one of the service doors behind the stage. The minute he entered the empty hallway, he paused, closed his eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath.

Some people, like his mate, were meant for the spotlight. If the last fifteen minutes had taught him anything, it was that he was not one of those people.

Following the corridor to the lobby, he made a detour into the nearest public restroom. He didn't need to use the facilities, so he went directly to the row of sinks and turned on the faucet. A shiver of relief rippled through him as the cool water splashed against his overheated cheeks, and with each repetition, his nervous system slowly calmed to a resting state.

Once he felt somewhat normal again, he patted his face dry with a couple of paper towels, checked his reflection in the mirror, then turned to exit the bathroom. He only made it two steps before his cell phone starting buzzing.

Thinking it was Arlo needing him to return, he fumbled the device from the inside pocket of his jacket. It wasn't Arlo, though.

RHIA: You're mated to Storm Black? No fucking way!

ROYAL: Dude, is this a joke?

REINA: Did you slip him a love potion?

He didn't know how his siblings had found out about his mating, but their responses didn't surprise him. If there was one thing he could count on from his family, it was that they would always be there to shit on any semblance of happiness he found.

The youngest of the four, he'd always been the black sheep of the family. The outsider. The underachiever. It didn't matter to them, or his parents, that he enjoyed working at Blackhaven Manor, or that he was quite content with his life. Hell, even when he did try to please him, he could never live up to their expectations.

From an early age, he'd been made acutely aware that he lacked something. Or…everything. He'd never been smart enough. Ambitious enough. He was too awkward, too reserved. Everything from his diet and appearance to his circle of friends had been scrutinized and found unacceptable.

To be fair, his dad had never treated him that way. He never said hurtful things. Mostly because he never talked to him at all. He did talk at him sometimes, telling him to sit, move, or pass the salt. Kind of like a tolerated family pet.

In a lot of ways, it was better.

Knowing his siblings wouldn't let it drop until they received an answer, he added them all to a group chat so he would only have to say it once.

KING: It's true, and no, I didn't dose him with a love potion.

The responses came almost immediately.

ROYAL: I feel so sorry for him.

RHIA: I can't believe he actually announced it. I wouldn't have told anyone.

REINA: When do we get to meet him?

ROYAL: Does mom know?

King had barely finished reading the last message when his phone began to vibrate incessantly with an incoming call. A quick glance at the name on the screen answered his brother's question.

"Hello, Mother."

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so happy. I can't believe it!"

He couldn't believe it, either. Had his mother called him by accident? The last time she had been pleased with him was when he'd won his fourth-grade spelling bee.

"Of course, I would have preferred it to be a woman, but that's neither here nor there."

"Uh, right."

"Oh, we have someone famous in the family! You have to bring him to dinner this Friday."

"Oh, I, uh…" Fuck. He didn't know how to deny her, but he also didn't want to subject Storm to his psychotic family. "I'll have to check his schedule. He's very busy right now with filming."

"He has to eat. I'm sure he can spare a few hours."

King squeezed his eyes closed and choked back a groan. "I'll ask him."

"Good." Her tone implied the matter had been settled. "Oh, and dear, you really should be more careful with your diet. You're looking a little pudgy, and you don't want to embarrass your new…"

"Mate," he said when she struggled for the right word.

She made a humming sound that might have been acceptance. Which was probably the best response he could have hoped for.

"Yes, well, my point is that you'll be in front of a lot of cameras now, so you really should care more about your appearance."

"I understand, Mother."

It was a common complaint, and her constant criticism was always a nagging voice in the back of his head. Maybe because he wanted her to be proud of him, or maybe because a little part of him agreed with her, but he always tried to do what she wanted. Unfortunately, it never lasted, and the whole process would start over again.

"Wonderful. I'll let you get back to your…job."

King gritted his teeth to hold in the uncharitable thoughts that danced on his tongue. "I'll call you later."

"No need, dear. I'll see you this Friday."

He sighed. "Yes, Mother. I love you."

"Friday," she repeated.

Then the line went dead.

His phone continued to buzz with messages from his siblings, but he was in no mood to deal with them. So, he muted the conversation and headed to the café off the lobby entrance.

"Hey, King!" Emrys—a male pixie with electric blue hair and dazzling green eyes—greeted him with enthusiasm. "How's it going in there?"

"Honestly? It's kind of crazy."

The barista laughed. "You looked great on stage, though. Completely natural."

King frowned. "You saw that?"

"It's all over social media." As he spoke, he retrieved his phone from his apron and poked around at the screen. "See."

He flipped the device around to show King a video of himself that had clearly been filmed from one of the fans in the audience. A part of him wanted to agree that he did look good, in large part thanks to Priya. Another part that sounded suspiciously like his mother, however, could only see the flaws.

He lowered his eyes and grinned self-consciously. "I guess news travels fast."

Emrys' smile dimmed, and his eyebrows drew together as he slowly returned his phone to the pocket of his apron. "Everyone seems pretty accepting. Most of the comments are good."

Most. Meaning not everyone was happy about his and Storm's relationship. Fuck, he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Uh, can I get an iced cherry whatever?"

"A cherry bomb?"

He dipped his head.

Emrys continued to watch him from the corner of his eye as he rang up the order.

"Also, an iced matcha latte with oat milk." He didn't know if Storm could have the drink on stage, but it would probably keep until the fan meeting ended.

The pixie nodded. "Is that it?"

"One second." Since he had left Arlo back in the ballroom, he should probably return with something for Damien as well. He dug his phone out of his pocket, ignored the messages from his siblings, and shot off a quick text to Arlo. "Make that two matcha lattes."

"Got it," Emrys confirmed. "Anything else?"

When he had left the ballroom, he'd had every intention of ordering himself an ice cream latte. Now, he didn't know if that was such a great idea.

Although delicious, the latte contained a lot of calories and sugar. As such, he didn't order it often. On the other hand, he'd skipped lunch, and it would be another couple of hours before he could sit down for dinner. A little pick-me-up probably wouldn't hurt.

You're looking a little pudgy.

His mother words rang in his ears as clearly as if she stood right beside him.

He probably should have developed some level of immunity to the criticism by this point, but he had never learned how to drown out the steady drone of disapproval. Even reminding himself that Storm liked the way he looked didn't change anything. Telling himself he was a grown man capable of making his own decisions did little to help, either.

I feel sorry for him.

I can't believe he actually announced it.

You really should care more about your appearance.

"King?"

Blinking, he looked up to see Emrys watching with obvious concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He pulled his shoulders back and pasted on a smile he didn't really feel. "I'm good. I was just thinking."

"So…anything else?"

His insides twisted, and blood roared in his ears, but he never let his smile slip. "Just an unsweetened green tea."