Page 27 of These Bonds that Unite Us
In the pack bathroom, I’m unpacking a box of self-care products when I hear Nebula’s phone ring in the other room. I drop the bottles in my hands and rush to the doorway, hoping it’s our girl.
My mate’s brows are furrowed, his muscles stiff as he listens to whoever is on the line. Anger and worry flood his bond before quickly being replaced by a hope so fierce it threatens to steal my breath.
“They are right here, hold on,” Nebula says before waving us over. We all sit on the bed, listening as he switches the call to speaker.
“Hello Pack Graves.” A rough, older man’s voice fills the air between us. “My name is Donovan Griffith.” Oh, that makes sense. He’s one of the higher ups in the DAU. Foster and Shepherd have both mentioned him over the years, so I guess he’s an okay guy. “As I was explaining to Nebula, last night someone attempted to break into the apartment Omen and Bea Powell share. For their safety, we are temporarily relocating them.”
Anger explodes through all of our bonds hearing someone is threatening our omega. Hasn’t she been through enough? Why do these assholes keep coming after her?
“You aren’t going to set them up in a safe house?” Callisto asks skeptically.
“Unfortunately, our resources here at the DAU are spread thin with everything happening in the Northeast. Even if we could assign bodyguards to them, isolation with strangers isn’t what Omen needs.”
His voice turns stern, almost biting, when he continues speaking. “The four of you broke something in her that no omega should experience, especially not one with Omen’s history. As much as I hate to say it, you are also the only ones who can fix her. I’ve spoken extensively with her doctor and she agrees sending Omen to your pack home will be the most productive for her health.”
“She will always be welcome here,” Titan grunts.
“Let’s make sure she feels welcome this time,” Donovan counters, sending a wave of regret through each of us. Nebula tells him about our new home and the security features we recently installed, and the two of them work out a plan for Omen to arrive later today.
Hearing the shortened timeline, I hurry back to the bathroom to finish unpacking. If my sweet girl is coming home, everything needs to be perfect for her.
I find Nebula in the kitchen a short while later, flour covering the counters and dirty pans everywhere. Callisto stands in the doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose. Frustration bleeds down his bond. Sneaking around him, I grab a sheet of paper from our grocery list and turn to find a pen.
“What are you doing Nexus?” Cal asks with a groan.
Wide-eyed, I glance at him over my shoulder. “Our girl is going to need snacks.”
“You three are going to make me lose my mind. We can place a large grocery order after we give Omen time to adjust to staying here. She doesn’t react well when we spend money on her, remember?” My lip juts out in a pout, but my beta just narrows his eyes. “Here’s what is going to happen: Nebula is going to clean up the disaster he’s turned our kitchen into.”
Nebula grumbles beneath his breath as he piles dirty dishes beside the sink. Flour coats his shirt and streaks across his cheek. If I didn’t feel the fear in his bond I would tease him about it.
“Nexus, you are going to go help Titan unpack the rest of our clothes in the closet. We need the blankets sorted out so Omen can choose whichever ones she’d like to use in the nest.” Callisto takes the pen and paper from my hands, returning them to the drawer where I found them. “Go.”
Turning around, I adjust myself as I leave to find Titan. Bossy Callisto is way hotter than I ever could have imagined. Maybe I can convince him to turn that energy on me next time we feel up to getting frisky in the bedroom.
“Did Cal scold you too?” Titan huffs out a laugh when he sees my drooping shoulders and pouty expression. He’s digging through one of the large boxes the moving company had brought up. Clothes are already sorted into piles around him, so I step closer and start finding homes for everything.
“Yes. I was going to order our girl some snacks, but he shut that idea down.” Titan hands me a pile of throw blankets that are soaked in our combined scents, so I sit them on a chair in the corner. We don’t want them to get lost in this mess.
“He’s making sure we focus on what needs done and not going overboard on silly things. He caught me going out back to sweep the patio. Apparently clearing the leaves and debris there is not a priority.”
“I just want everything to be perfect for her. This is the dream home we created for us to share with our omega.” My head thuds against the closet wall as I stare down at the dark hardwood floors. “What if she doesn’t want to stay after they catch whoever tried to break into her apartment?”
Titan’s arms wrap around me, the weight of his body easing some of my growing anxiety. He doesn’t respond to my question because the truth is, there isn’t anything we can do to force her to stay. Our only option is to show her how much we want her here and hope it isn’t too late for us to fix things.
Omen
Waking up in Donovan’s house is disorienting. The blinding sunlight and unfamiliar scent of his cleaning products make my skin crawl. My head spins when I force myself to sit up, a side effect of both the rejection and my lack of sleep last night. Deep steadying breaths slowly bring the room back into focus.
A large part of me wants to crawl back into the weird-smelling bed and sleep the day away, but what’s left of my logic reminds me we need to see where Bea and I will be staying for the rest of the week.
Changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, I make my way across the house. Noise from the living room tells me where everyone is before I try to search for them.
Catty corner from where Donovan and his mate share a large sofa, Bea sits cross-legged on an armchair. Her high-waisted, wide-leg jeans are printed with daisies and match her flowy white crop top perfectly. How she only slept for four hours and manages to look like a boho goddess, I’ll never know.
All three of them look up when I enter the room, offering me smiles or nods. I slide onto the empty chair across from them and accept the bottle of water Donovan produces. His mate Natasha playfully rolls her eyes when he refuses to speak until I’ve finished the whole thing.
While Bea looks up to the women of Candy Courage, I idolize Natasha. The beta woman is tall, closer to six feet, with messy, dark red curls and a badass vibe I one day hope to emulate. She’s almost always rocking a leather jacket and badass boots when we see her.
