Page 65 of This Fate That Guides Us
The words flow from my lips. The chords from my fingers. My grief given a voice and released into the world. The song draws to an end and my eyes blink open to teary-eyed stares and whispers of awe. Caleb must sense my discomfort because he swoops in with his own guitar playing a much livelier melody.
I sit with the group for a few minutes longer, fighting back the tears still threatening to pour down my face. When I start tolose the battle, I push to my feet and head down the beach. A walk along the dark shore will help to calm the sorrow crashing inside me.
I only get a few yards away when I hear footsteps behind me. Pausing, I glance over my shoulder expecting to find Cal hurrying after me. I’m surprised to see Omen shifting across the sand instead. She catches up quickly. Not speaking or questioning why I left, she seems content to walk along beside me in silence.
Feeling brave, I slip my hand into hers, gripping her fingers tightly in silent appreciation. When she squeezes back, I’m reminded of how perfectly she fits into our pack. She understands us on a baser level, a way that speaks of the connection building between us. The pull we’ve felt since meeting her at Soulbound Echo’s office has only grown stronger over the past four weeks.
Music may have brought her to us, but Fate certainly played a hand in ensuring Omen found her way to us.
When we’ve walked far enough, the fire is a speck on the horizon, I sit down in the sand. Far enough away from the shore to avoid the night tide. Omen crosses her legs and plops down beside me. Her arms in the sand behind her, and her face tilted toward the starry sky. She’s close enough I can feel the heat of her skin and taste a hint of her scent in the air. She smells like sunshine and flowers with a touch of something spicier, muskier.
I’m fucking obsessed with her scent.
Crawling into bed after our show the other night and smelling her on our sheets was maddening. I wanted to be the one who had given her pleasure, but I know how much it means to Nexus that she allowed him to be the first of us to get close. He’s still apprehensive she will believe his anxiety makes him unworthy of being her alpha. Despite us reassuring himotherwise as often as we can. Only this beautiful omega will be able to show him how worthy he is. Something she is already unintentionally doing.
I’m all in with Omen. Even knowing we have another Fated mate out in the world, an omega, I wouldn’t be able to walk away from her now. She’s meant to be ours, I’m sure of it.
A part of me wonders if maybe she is the omega at the other end of our connection. If she wanted a chance to explore the world and her career before settling down with a pack. But I brush those thoughts aside. She’s shown clear interest in us, so I doubt she’s waiting for her Fate matched mates.
We sit in silence for several long moments before she finally speaks. “Your song was beautiful.” She doesn't ask why we haven’t put it on an album or released it as a single. Nor does she ask who the lyrics were about. She just compliments the music and enjoys the peace of the quiet night.
I feel the compulsion to tell her more. To share Elizabeth with her in a way only my packmates have gotten to hear. Another sign this omega is meant to be mine.
“I wrote it for my sister.” She turns her head to face me when I start to speak. Her attention fully on me. It’s thrilling to be the center of her world, even for a few moments. “She was three years older than me. An omega.”
I take a few seconds to work up the courage to tell her the rest. It always hurts to talk about what led to Elizabeth’s death. “She was in her first semester of university when she met her Fate matched mate only to be immediately rejected. It was horrible. Watching her deteriorate over the next six months was the most difficult thing I’ve ever experienced.”
My pain is a living creature clawing at my insides as I remember the faraway look always in Elizabeth’s eyes. The lifeless way she moved around the house and her nest.
Sensing my distress, Omen quickly climbs into my lap. Her legs wrap around my back and her arms hold me against her. The softest, kittenish purr rattles to life in her chest. I melt against her. Accepting the comfort she’s wordlessly offering.
“She took her own life a month before I started at the Alpha Academy.” I choke back a sob as the words leave my mouth, but Omen isn’t having it. She rubs up and down my spine whispering quiet words of support and empathy.
The tears come quickly but thankfully don’t last long. It’s cathartic, releasing some of the pain I always carry with me. “Sorry,” I mutter. I scrub my cheeks with my hands, blowing out a long breath before finally facing Omen once more.
“Don’t apologize. Even alphas are allowed to cry.” I nod absently against the top of her head. “Will you tell me about her? Your sister?”
So I do. I tell her all about the wild adventurer Elizabeth was. Constantly climbing trees and finding little hidey holes in the woods behind our house. She would pretend they were vast caves for us to explore. “She was so carefree. Always doing dangerous things and scaring our parents. The library story is probably my favorite though.”
The sky is just starting to grow dark enough for the streetlights around our local library to kick on. Elizabeth and I are waiting outside by the bike rack while our mom finishes checking out inside. Usually, we stay with her, but my sister was too restless to wait in line.
“Wanna see something cool?”
I turn to look where she is standing closer to the wall. The rough red brick exterior of the building has these weird arches all across the front on this side. I consider what she might have to show me, knowing it could get us both in trouble.
“Sure, what is it?”
My eyes widen as she balances her feet on one side of the wall and uses her hands to walk her way up the wall between the two sides of the arch.
“Liz,” I hiss. Worry courses through me as she gets higher. I’m going to be grounded for life if she falls!
“Look, I’m a ninja!”
The library doors open, the sound of our mother's voice carrying across the walkway to where I stand. Gripping the bike railing tight I fight the urge to shout at my sister, not wanting to risk startling her and making her lose her grip.
“Where’s Liz?” Mom asks when she sees me alone.
My mouth is barely open when Elizabeth lets go and drops from her position in the arch. “Boo!”
