Page 8 of Hidden Fates

“I appreciate your attention to detail, babe, but you don’t have to feel bad for not telling me.”

He knows I love music in all forms, but he doesn’t need to feel bad. I could have searched it up myself.

“It’s Orbital Somatic.”

His words stop me in my tracks, body inches away from collapsing in my Alpha’s lap for pre-show cuddles. My heart races, pounding so hard against my ribs I’m afraid the bones will crack into pieces. Much like the shattered remnants of the piece of my heart buried beneath the threads that connect me to my mates.

“Oh.” My response comes out shaky, betraying the emotions blasting through our connection.

Orbital Somatic is a newer band. They’ve steadily risen in popularity after opening for the masked rock band Primordial Covenant last summer. Their sets are a beautiful blend of whimsy, theatrics, and emotion, attracting fans to their stage with soulful lyrics and catchy beats.

I shouldn’t have such a visceral reaction to hearing their name. If they were any other band, I wouldn’t even blink.

But they aren’t another band.

They’re his band.

The Alpha I kinda-sorta-might still be in love with. The one I feel guilty as hell for obsessing over when I have five amazing mates at my side, cherishing me and loving me.

Caleb Michaels.

He’s here. In this building. He’s going to take that stage and sing.

For the first time in eight years, we’ll be breathing the same air.

Or we would be if I could get my lungs to work.

A body presses against my back, Quentin’s lemon and summer rain scent flooding my nose as a purr rattles to life in his chest. The soft vibration kick-starts my brain, and I suck in a deep breath.

Why am I reacting like this? My heart belongs to them, not to Caleb. He was my childhood best friend and first love, but then he left. Cut ties with me and moved on, taking a piece of my heart with him.

I shouldn’t shudder at the thought of seeing him again, getting wet just imagining the taste of his warm scent in the air.

“That’s cool,” I squeak, face flushing when my voice comes out nasally.

Sure, they can all feel my emotions through our bond, but I’m going to keep pretending like my entire body didn’t light up knowing I’m going to be under the same roof as my secret obsession.

If I could get my damned feet to move, I would drop against Onyx and Sterling’s laps with nonchalance, but it’s like my brain has short-circuited.

“Did I break you, Omega?” Q asks, running his nose down my throat and across my cheek to scent-mark me.

My eyes fall closed, the strength leaving me as my thoughts race. “N-no. Nope. I’m good. Great. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Skye.” Onyx’s gruff voice rattles through me, the sternness in it making my eyes pop open. Tears well as the guilt grows, becoming an unmanageable tidal wave. I hate being out of control like this. Unable to regulate my emotions the way others do.

He stands, crowding me against Quentin’s chest. He towers over me, forcing me to tilt my head back. Normally, I love our height difference, but right now it’s intimidating.

A thick hand collars my throat, thumb brushing over his bite mark. “Don’t hide from this. We’ve been aware from day one that he held a piece of you we couldn’t reach. If you still feel that way, then do something about it. Fate wouldn’t have placed you in each other’s paths again if it didn’t mean something.”

“I don’t know if I can handle the heartbreak if he walks away a second time.” My lower lip wobbles, all my fear bubbling out alongside the tear that leaks down my cheek.

My mates crowd around me, touching me as they pour reassurance and affection through our bonds.

“We’ll be here to pick up the pieces and help you move on, or to welcome him into the pack,” Sterling whispers, lips pressing against my temple. “If he’s meant to be yours, then he’s pack, precious, but there’s only one way to know for sure.”

“I have to talk to him,” I croak, chest aching with lingering worry.

“You know, there’s a club here that’s supposed to be super cool. Knotty Nature. We could book their VIP suite and invite his band out to celebrate with us. Make it casual and take the pressure off,” Bellamy suggests, palm rubbing up and down my arm.