Page 20 of Hidden Fates

They took down another anti-designation cult.

That’s two in less than three months.

Hope is a fragile thing, but I can feel it blooming in my chest. With the right push, we could finally see designation protection laws put into place.

Something wet hits my chest.

Looking down, Skye watches the TV with a tear-soaked face. “Sorry.” She scrubs her face, a small sob hiccuping from her lips. “I d-don’t know why I’m c-crying. I just feel s-so relieved.”

Bellamy leans over to tuck himself into the crook of her shoulder. “Don’t apologize for your feelings, dandelion. You’ve been stressed and worried about that Omega. It’s natural to be overwhelmed now that she’s been found.”

I don’t mention that it isn’t just Skye’s relief she’s feeling. If the label called us with this news, they will have told Orbital Somatic. Caleb’s reactions could be fueling the overflow from Skye.

Sly meets my eyes from the bar where he’s playing a game of chess with Emmett. Without words, we reach a silent agreement.

Whatever it takes, we’re tracking Caleb down this week. The distance between them is no longer sustainable. Not when their connection is causing so much of our Omega’s pain.

Chapter Seven

I’m a coward.

An Alpha undeserving of his title.

It’s been two weeks since that morning in the hotel room. Since the moment I found out that the feelings I have for Skye aren’t just lingering from a childhood by her side, but Fate-driven by the connection we share.

Nausea crawls up my throat each time I think of the years we’ve spent apart. Knowing that I wouldn’t have lost nearly a decade with her if I hadn’t chickened out the moment our Fated connection didn’t appear.

“You good, man?” Lee side-eyes me as we ride the elevator up to Soulbound’s second floor.

We’re booked for studio time. I should be excited to lose myself in the music, but it’s hard to focus when my thoughts keep drifting back to Skye.

Grunting out a response, I duck into the hall before any of my bandmates can press me further. They know what happened. It’s not like I could hide it from them when I fell apart after returning from Shattered Horizons’ suite.

I shouldn’t push them away when they’re just trying to help, but I can’t help increasingly feeling like an outsider now. How could I be comfortable when I learned I never belonged in this pack?

Near the end of our session, our producer stops us. Relief wars with shame when I see Bea waiting beside him. I felt like the world’s shittiest friend when I learned she never made it back to the hotel following our show in Portland. I should have made sure she returned safely instead of drowning myself in alcohol and Skye’s presence.

But I didn’t, and she paid the price for it.

I can’t get anything right as an Alpha, can I?

Lee rushes through the door and drops to the floor beside her, apologies already spilling from his lips. She laughs it off and pats his head.

“You know what happened in Portland wasn’t your fault, right?”

Joey cuts in, placing the blame back on our shoulders. Where it belongs.

Bea’s head shakes, her arms dropping to prop on her hips as she levels a hard look our way. “If those assholes hadn’t been able to get to me at the hotel, they would have found me elsewhere. Or worse, taken someone else. They are the ones to blame. Not you, not me, not the label. Just the peope who took me.”

When we don’t voice our protests, she nods. “No apologies, no guilt. We’re here to skyrocket your band into stardom, not rehash shitty events we can’t change. Take fifteen minutes to cool off, then meet me in the manager’s office.”

I trail behind my bandmates as we gather our stuff and head upstairs. How does she expect us not to feel guilty when she was kidnapped and hurt because none of us left the club with her? I can agree most of the blame belongs on the people working for and running the breeding ring, but we still fucked up that night.

Misery smothers me by the time we join Bea in the office. I can barely breathe as we go over her plan for the rest of the year. Our schedule is slow, allowing us to focus on studio time, but there are a few shows left. She’s thorough in plotting out what we can do between them and scheduling us to meet with the social media team to go over content ideas.

When we’re finished, she sends the guys off but asks me to stay behind. I don’t have the energy to worry why she wants me alone, so I stare at the only blank wall in the room and wait for her to speak.

“What’s going on?”