Page 32 of These Bonds that Unite Us
“Alright, Alpha. Let’s get to work.”
For the next hour, the kitchen is full of muted laughter and the clatter of the two of us cooking. Our counters are covered in powdered sugar and splashes of egg from where we’d dipped the thick slices of French Toast I’m currently frying on a griddle.
The mess somehow makes me feel alive. I always loved cooking and baking with my mom and sister when I was younger, but I let the hobby slip to the side after Elizabeth passed away. Finding these pieces of myself calms parts of my soul I hadn’t known were unsettled.
Callisto’s shoulder brushes mine where he slices fresh strawberries and bananas beside me. He’s humming an unfamiliar tune, one I hope he turns into a new song for us. It’s as heartbreaking as it is sultry. The lyrics he would pair with it… Our fans would go rabid.
I slide three slices of the sweet breakfast onto a plate and pass it to him so he can add the rest of the toppings. It isn’t Michelin star worthy, but it’s made with love, exactly what our girl needs.
I add the things that have been delivered for Omen, before carrying the tray to the guest room door. Instead of waiting for her to answer, I carefully slide it to the floor and knock. “We brought you something to eat,” I tell her through the wood.
It takes a lot for me to walk away and leave her to discover the tray herself, but I remind myself of what Mia told me during our session. “If she feels she needs space, you need to find a way to give her that while still reminding her you are there, and you aren’t going to change your mind again.”
With one glance back down the hallway, I head back into the kitchen to help my mates clean up. We can’t force Omen to make decisions she isn’t ready for.
Yet.
If it comes to a choice between her need for space and her life, I won’t hesitate to break down this door and do whatever it takes to save our omega.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Now Playing: Higher- Sleep Token
These men are relentless.
Two days of intermittent sleep and ignoring their constant knocking, and it still feels like every time I open my eyes one of them is outside begging me to eat whatever food they’ve brought me.
Rolling over onto my back, I stare up at the white ceiling. I should probably get up and shower, maybe eat something, but I can’t convince myself to waste the energy it would take to move.
My eyes slip closed for a few seconds before another knock has them blinking back open. A sigh escapes my slightly parted lips as I listen for the plea of whichever of my former Fate matched mates waits on the other side. I’m surprised when Nebula’s muffled voice rings through the door. Even more shocking is the sound of his footsteps fading in the distance as he walks away.
He brought me food… then he left?
Curiosity gets the best of me. My feet feel like lead when they touch the cold hardwood floors, but I manage to drag myself across the room. Inching it open, I peek out into the hallway and exhale in relief when I find it empty. Nebula’s smoky vanilla and tobacco scent still lingers in the air. The smell of it has my chest aching with a longing so intense I have to lean harder against the door frame to stay upright.
Stupid fucking omega instincts trying to force me back to a pack that has proven they want nothing to do with me.
Another scent drifts to me. Something warm and sweet and maple-y. Glancing down I spy the tray of magic he’s left me alongside a rectangular box and a pack of… markers? I contemplate leaving it all here but my stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me I’ve gone too long without eating.
I wish I could say the French Toast tastes like ash and betrayal, but it doesn’t. It’s absolute heaven. Fluffy and light with the perfect dash of cinnamon.
My stomach aches as I stare down at the empty plate contemplating licking it clean of the remnants of maple syrup and powdered sugar. Setting it aside takes all of my willpower, which makes me giggle at myself. How did I go from someone whose biggest concern was her birth family finding her to fighting for survival every day?
I wince when my head thumps against the headboard, lost in the spiraling thoughts my memories of the past several months bring. Forcing myself to focus on something else, I pick up the box from the tray and carefully open it. The shiny black screen of a new phone shines up at me. A newer model than my old one, but the same brand.
They got me a phone?
Lifting it from the box, I see a note tucked in the bottom. ‘As an apology for endangering your life. It’s been secured by a team at the FCDA. -Lukas Dromir’
So it isn’t from the guys. Which makes me feel better. Accepting gifts from them feels like taking a bribe, and my forgiveness cannot be bought.
Powering the device on, I’m relieved to see all of my old information has been synced. The number of notifications spread across all of my apps is nearly overwhelming enough to make me shut it back off, but curiosity gets the best of me.
Opening the messaging app, I see missed texts from Bea, Shelby, Forrest, and… Nexus. Clicking Bea’s name, I scan through all of the pictures and daily updates she sent me during her tour. I’ve already heard most of these stories in person, but seeing the photos is new. The texts from her parents are mostly reminders they love me and hope I am safe.
The only unread thread now is from Nexus. I’m hesitant to open it, unsure I want to see what he has written. Maybe I’ll just open them to get rid of the notification…
Clicking his name, I move my thumb to close back out but am stopped short by a myriad of food pics. Scrolling back to the beginning–the first one he sent me after my identity was leaked and I was forced into hiding–I quickly grow captivated by the story they tell.
