Page 9 of This Fate That Guides Us
The room is stuffy despite the air conditioning running through the building. Something that wouldn’t usually bother me except we’re all sitting here with our masks on. The designer who created my mask did a great job of ventilating the interior without detracting from the exterior image, but it can still feel suffocating inside when I’m just sitting with it on.
A call from the label’s secretary pulls Brady from the room. Moments later he steps back into view leading a goddess in behind him. Waist long hair fading from black at the roots to a light purple at the tips. My alpha grumbles in approval as I let my eyes roam over every inch of her.
Black and white striped pants clinging to her hips and thick thighs. A black, long-sleeved blouse reveals a hint of the tattoo running down her sternum. I want to peel the damn thing off to get a better look, to trace the lines of her ink with my tongue.
My breath stalls in my lungs when I finally meet her icy blue eyes.
We’re in trouble if the label expects us to spend two months on a tour bus with this beauty. I haven’t felt this strong of a pull to someone since I met the mates who now sit beside me.
“Thank you,” she tells Brady softly. Her tone of voice is naturally low. My mind conjures images of her spread out before my pack, low groans falling from her plush lips.
A harsh pinch to my side snaps me out of my dangerous train of thought. I throw Titan a glare and rub my side to ease the pain. He must have sensed the direction of my thoughts fromour bond. It’s not like they can see me checking her out behind my full face mask.
“Gentlemen, this is the photographer I mentioned. Omen Powell. Omen, meet Primordial Covenant.”
Over the remaining scent of coffee and pack, I catch muted hints of sunshine and honeysuckle. The sweetness has my alpha perking his ears in interest, but I shove the feeling down. We need to behave professionally during this meeting, not pant after the attractive woman like a damn cartoon character.
A quick look at my pack mates shows they are experiencing the same attraction. I’m equal parts curious and cautious. Our interest in Omen could be perilous for my pack. If things were to go awry, working together for the duration of the tour could be awkward and tense. Added stress during an already stressful journey won’t do my mates any good.
“Take a seat and we’ll go over the contract the head office sent over,” Brady tells her, guiding her to the chair across from us.
Omen reads over the NDA before she looks at us. Her eyes flick back and forth between each of our masks, her teeth digging into her plum-painted bottom lip. My fists clench in an effort to stop myself from reaching across to free the abused flesh. The pull between us is going to be very difficult to ignore.
Blowing out a breath, she focuses on the paperwork, signing it quickly and sliding it back to Brady who quickly introduces our pack.
“You hesitated. Can I ask why?” Callisto questions quietly after his mask is removed.
A small smile tugs at the corners of Omen’s lips when she turns her focus to my beta. “No nefarious reason, I promise. When Brady reached out to me, I wasn’t made aware of which band I would be working with for the duration of this contract. I hadn’t considered your band would be an option, nor had itcrossed my mind I would learn who you are behind the masks during this process. I was debating if this opportunity was worth ruining the mystery.”
“Are you a fan?” Brady asks cautiously. If you didn’t know the alpha, you wouldn’t be able to tell by his tone, but the small twitch of his jaw belies his concern. We always have to be cautious about who we allow on our tours. Keeping our identities secret and protecting our personal belongings is already a full time job, we can’t have someone untrustworthy added to the mix.
“I actually got to watch the band perform during their debut as the opener for Candy Courage last year. So, yes, you can consider me a fan of their music. Please don’t assume this correlates to a lack of professionalism. As I mentioned, I hadn’t considered working with them as an option when I agreed to this meeting.” Omen directs her words firmly to Brady.
“I must admit, the idea of getting full access to photograph Primordial Covenant on this tour makes me less reluctant to sign for the duration of this contract. I remember wishing I’d had my camera with me during their performance. The images I could have captured…” Her words trail off, her eyes distant as she gets lost in her thoughts.
Her eyes widen slightly when our masks are removed, her cheeks turning the sweetest shade of pink when Nexus winks at her. She doesn’t react otherwise.
Brady relaxes, seeing her maintain a respectful professionalism after our true faces are revealed. Not giving her time to adjust, he starts to go over the proposed contract the label sent.
Their words become background noise as I study Omen. A lightly tanned complexion paired with a light dusting of makeup. Her fingers gently tap the edge of the table as she listens toBrady talk. The soft flowers and tips of butterfly wings I can see peeking from the top of her shirt.
Callisto nudges his knee against mine beneath the table reminding me my mask is off now and I’m acting like a creep staring at this woman's chest. I shake off my odd fascination and tune back into the conversation.
“Do you have an itinerary for the tour? I’d like to see where the stops are before I sign on for all of them,” Omen tells Brady, who shuffles through his papers before handing her one. “Several of these stops are in states with critical anti-pack agendas, with a few of them close to known anti-designation groups. What security measures do you have in place for protests at those locations?”
My alpha bristles at the insinuation she may feel unsafe touring with us. “We would never let anyone on our crew be harmed at one of our shows.” My words are a little too sharp, my alpha internally growling his displeasure.
Omen’s eyes meet mine, filled with anger and disbelief. She may be right. It’s not like we can guarantee the safety of every single person on the crew at those shows. Shit happens and sometimes it’s out of our control. “I didn’t ask for your protection, I asked what precautions you have in place.”
Her attention turns back to Brady and a low growl rumbles in my chest. I balk at the sound, muttering a short apology. Callisto’s hand squeezes my thigh attempting to soothe my frazzled edges.
No one outside of my pack has ever made me feel so unhinged in such a short period of time.
Maybe my alpha is feeling restless being so close to someone with such a sweet scent. He’s been anxious and easily agitated ever since we discovered another mate through our Fated connection last summer.
At the age of twenty-one, everyone has a chance to gain a Fated connection. For my pack, our link allows us to send messages to each other by writing or drawing on our skin. Each of us carries an energy signature telling the other who is sending the message.
When we first realized we were all not only pack mates, but Fate matched mates, it was confusing trying to focus on the energy flowing through the messages to know who it was from. Our solution was to use our initials to sign off on anything we sent.
