Page 21 of Waiting for Fate
As soon as this job is over, and her safety is no longer in question, I’m making this omega mine. Sinking my teeth into that pretty throat and locking my knot so deep inside her, she’ll feel the echo of my cock for weeks.
Driving the few blocks over to tonight’s venue, my instincts have me on edge. We received an update from Donovan Griffith while we were on the road this morning. The older alpha is a leader at the DAU, where we work, and our direct supervisor for this assignment.
He also has personal ties to both omegas. Omen’s birth family made her a high priority case when she enrolled in the designation protection program four years ago. The Montgomerys lead an awful cult in New Hampshire, one who preaches anti-pack, anti-designation beliefs and follows through on them.
Lex and I have both seen the aftermath of what they do to alphas and omegas discovered there. It’s sickening. Literally, I puked the first time I saw a group of rescued omegas roll into headquarters.
Bea’s family also works for the DAU, so she grew up with Donovan in her life. Her mother is a doctor under the group’s payroll, and her alpha father, Austin, is a lawyer who helps with relocation and changes in identity for those who need it.
When Donovan called to tell us the New Hampshire Senator had been in Grand Rapids yesterday for a stop on his campaign tour, we started working out a plan to enforce extra precautions to keep both omegas safe. We won’t know if there are any issues at the venue until we get there, but we’re on guard just in case.
A sidewalk lined with protesters confirms the DAU’s suspicions. Mostly anti-pack, but I quickly spot a few anti-designation signs in their midst. Local police are already on site, directing traffic and keeping the street clear.
The driver pulls to the curb at the front and I quickly slip out the door, searching for any threats in the vicinity before reaching back to help Bea out. I keep her shielded from the crowd as we head directly into the venue, leaving Lex to do the same with Omen.
Murmurs of concern and panic fill the hall where the road crew and bands gather. I listen to what everyone is saying as I follow Bea through the crowd. She beelines for the front where her mentor Brady is speaking with venue staff. I can’t help but to admire my girl’s ass, her hips swaying as she walks.
Her confident steps don’t betray the nerves she must feel about this unexpected protest outside. My instincts demand I comfort her, promise no threat will touch her while I am here, but as she steps up beside Brady and turns to face the crowd, I realize maybe she doesn’t need my placation. Bea is apparently a badass under pressure, a trait many omegas struggle with.
Working for the DAU is a tough job. It’s stressful, not only for us but also for our loved ones. Our omega needs to be strong enough to handle the dangers and secrets we have to keep. Watching Bea study the crowd with a calmness many alphas in the room lack, I can’t help but to fall a little harder for her. I knew she was perfect for us the moment I laid eyes on her.
After Brady announces all the changes to our plans for the evening—including moving to a different location outside of the city instead of staying in the hotel—everyone jumps into action, preparing for the show tonight. I trail Bea as she works, glued to her side to monitor any potential threats against her. When I hover a little too closely, she throws an elbow into my side, glaring at me. I just grin at her, not budging on the lack of space between us.
I’m too on edge tonight to allow her the distance she craves.
The band she is managing, Orbital Somatic, is a fun group. Their shows are theatrical, which pairs well with the headliner’s masked performances. If these guys can shake their nerves, I think they’ll thrive in this industry. A thought Bea also shares as she meets with each band member and goes over what they need to make tonight a success. From simple things like completing their personal pre-show rituals to pep talks to help ease their growing anxiety. She’s killing it at this manager thing. It’s obvious my girl was born to lead.
We watch from the wings as the band takes to the stage for their sound check. Helping the technicians double check their setup to fix any bugs before the show starts. Hiccups are inevitable, but thorough preparation makes it easier to manage when they arise.
I crowd against Bea’s back when we’re surrounded by unvetted venue staff. My eyes flicker between each of their faces, studying and memorizing them.
Bea gives up on making me back off. She lets out a deep, disgruntled sigh and focuses on her work. I can’t help but to tease her a bit, leaning down to whisper against her ear. My words soft to ensure only she hears them. “Good girl.”
A shudder rocks her spine, her eyes fluttering shut at my praise. I shouldn’t torment her too much, not when I’m as miserably turned on as she is. I can’t help it. Every time she reacts, I find myself hungry for more. For all of her whimpers and moans, her attitude and anger. I want everything she offers.
“Asshole,” she grumbles, hurrying to her next task. A chuckle falls from my lips as I follow her, unrepentant for riling her up at work.
Rushing around the back, Bea’s heeled feet stumble over a piece of equipment jutting out into the hall. She curses, and I catch her before she can fall. The phantom pain of her stubbed toe fills my own feet and my breath catches.
Fuck.
Yes.
Bea turns to thank me, but her eyes widen and her lips turn down when she sees the manic grin on my face.
“I felt that.” Confusion floods her eyes, her head tilting slightly. I carefully guide her backward, leaving room for others to pass us by. “Your pain, I felt it.” One finger trails down her jaw, the softness of her skin leaving me in awe. “It’s our connection. The reason behind this pull between us. You’re mine, Bea Powell. My Fate Matched mate.”
Her eyes grow even wider before she scoffs, turning her face away from me. “Those lines won’t work on me, Ridley. I don’t have a Fated connection.” The words are bitter, tinted with a hint of sadness. My omega wants to believe me and to have a soul-binding connection, finding her own happy ending, but she is not the type to blindly believe my words.
My lips stretch into a smirk as I place my palm on the small of her back and usher her forward, back to work to ensure her band isn’t running behind. “You’ll see. One day you’ll feel it too.”
I leave her be for the rest of the show, focusing on my job and not the pull between us. As soon as we get the all clear from Brady, we head back to the hotel to gather all of our stuff to take back to the bus. It’s a bit of a drive to the parking lot, but both omegas enjoy the trip after we swing through a drive thru and grab food.
“Donovan wants to check in tomorrow. Video call in the afternoon.” Lex tells me from the passenger seat. I nod, hoping they got their hands on the rest of the stops Pierson’s followers will be making. It is easy to plan around the pre-announced bigger events, but these impromptu ones are going to cause too much chaos if we can’t get ahead of them. Especially as we head into the Southern states. The anti-pack protests there will be volatile enough without adding anti-designation believers too.
We’re dropped off at the bus around 2 in the morning, perfect timing for the sleepy omegas in the backseat. I hover on the steps behind them, making sure Bea’s swaying doesn’t lead to toppling. Not in those heels. They may be fuck-me-hot, but they’re also a great way to twist an ankle.
Once they are both settled in their nests, we start our journey to the new campground the label booked us. Lex takes the first shift behind the wheel, leaving me to catch some restless sleep in my bunk. I’d much rather wrap around my omega, feeling her soft curves pressed against me and warming my skin.
