Page 51 of These Bonds that Unite Us
Silence envelopes us for several long heartbeats before Titan sighs loudly. “Nebula’s right, firefly. We want to know you, and that means hearing things about your life growing up too. Even if it's tough for us to hear, we want to know everything about you.”
I peek over at him, my lips twisted tightly together. “I–are you sure? I don’t have to talk about them. We can pretend they don’t exist. Except for Hannah.”
“I can sense your fear every time we interact, Omen. You’re probably wondering when I’ll remember you were born Sarah Montgomery and leave you again, right?” My hands shake as I admit Nebula is right. It’s a paranoid thought I can’t seem to shake.
Nebula crawls across the blanket to kneel in the sand by my feet, and he slowly reaches out and takes my hands in his. “I’ve apologized already, and I’ll probably do so another thousand times, but I meant what I said Omen. I know who you are now–our incredible, passionate, kind-hearted omega–and that is what matters. The person you were forced to be growing up isn’t who you are now, and I’m so fucking disgusted with myself for not seeing so sooner.”
My hands twitch in his, and I turn them to wrap around his, squeezing gently. “Okay. I’ll try to share. It’s difficult to talk about because I’d rather not relive most of the moments from back then. The only memories I cherish from before I turned eighteen are of me and Hannah. Everything else is… not happy.”
“We’ll listen to anything you want to tell us, starlight. Good or bad.”
“I’m not sure if my mother knew how to cook, but my father would never have been caught dead in the kitchen. He’s very old-fashioned when it comes to traditional family roles.” I start slowly, trying not to hold my breath as I wait to see their expressions shift to revulsion. “Hannah would sometimes sneak into the kitchen and ask our chef to teach her things. When I was old enough, I’d go with her and sit at the counter watching them work. I tried to help a few times, but Chef quickly banned me from assisting. My cooking abilities are abysmal.”
“Were the treats Hannah would sneak you ones she baked?” Nebula asks, recalling the story I mentioned during their spa night after the show in Michigan a few months ago.
“Sometimes, yeah. She loved to make small batches of surprise cookies. They were like chocolate chip but she would throw in random ingredients instead. Some of them were amazing, others not so much.” I grin, finally looking up at the four of them while I talk.
“What was the worst ingredient she added?” Nexus has a mischievous spark in his eyes that makes me wary. As far as the others have shared, this sweet alpha is not built for cooking or baking. He might try to make me hot sauce cookies or something equally as awful.
Thinking back on all of Hannah’s creations, a laugh slips through my lips when I remember the one I hated the most. “Starfruit! It might have turned out good, but she didn’t know how to tell if they were ripe. The one she picked wasn’t, so it was bitter and baked into a weirdly crisp but mushy texture inside the dough.”
They laugh as I share a few more of my sister’s creations. This is wonderful. Sitting on the beach with my Fate matched mates and talking freely about my childhood. With all of thechaos following my identity being leaked to the media in July, I don’t think it has sunk in yet that I no longer have to hide myself from the world. I’m free to be whoever I choose.
Or I will be as soon as the FCDA tracks down my brother and his wife.
“Thank you for sharing,” Nebula tells me as he slides me into the back seat of the car. His lips press against my temple, lingering there for several heartbeats before he steps away. My heart pounds in my chest from the small moment of contact, and I can feel the walls I’ve built starting to crumble.
I may not be ready to forgive them tonight, but one day I will. Then we can start the happily ever after Fate crafted for us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Now Playing: Dark Thoughts- The Funeral Portrait
Pulling on a long black skirt decorated in silver constellations, I contemplate asking one of the guys to drive me to my therapy appointment instead of calling for a ride-share. It would probably be safer, and easier, but my stomach settles uneasily when I think about relying on any of them.
After sliding the matching long-sleeved black shirt over my head, I glance at my phone and sigh. I need to decide how I’m getting back to Starburgh before it is too late and I miss the appointment.
Clanging pans let me know one of the members of Pack Graves is in the kitchen, so I head that way, only to freeze in the doorway when I see Nebula making the noise. I try to quietly back out of the room, but his attention snaps to me.
“Hey, everything okay?” His eyes roam over me, taking in my outfit and cataloging my lack of comfy clothes with a questioning expression.
“Uh, I–I have an appointment,” I stammer.
He sets aside the pans he was pulling out and straightens, unintentionally flexing the muscles in his arms as he places his palms on the counter. This man has forearms women would write poems about. Slick leaks from my center watching the way the veins in his hands jump as his fingers curl into a fist. Stupid brain, focus!
“With Doctor Russell? Is she coming here?”
“No. It’s a therapy appointment in the city.”
“Okay, I’ll drive,” he tells me without hesitation. He’s already walking out of the room when my brain finally catches up to what he said.
“Wait, you don’t have to take me. I can–”
Nebula stops, staring back at me from the bottom of the stairs leading to the pack bedroom. “I know we’ve fucked up things between us, but don’t think for a second I won’t turn your pretty ass pink if you even think of suggesting I let a stranger drive you into town.”
Arousal pulses so strongly my perfume leaks around my scent canceling underwear and fills the air around me. His eyes darken when it reaches him, and a low rumble fills his chest as he fights back a growl. He shakes himself and turns to run up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Moments later, he returns with two jackets in his hands. My teeth clench around a whimper as he carefully helps me into one and I’m surrounded by his scent.
