Page 44 of Waiting for Fate
“Don’t wanna.”
The pout in her voice makes me smile wider. She’s too cute for her own good. “Too bad, Omega.” I rip the blankets off of her, delighting in her shriek of protest. “You need to get up and get ready, because we’re going on a date. Unless you’d prefer to go out in your pajamas?”
Her head peeks out from beneath her pillows, eyes narrowed on me. “Coffee.”
Raising my hands, I back out of the room with a laugh. “I’ll make you a cup while you shower.”
One hour and two cups of coffee later, we are climbing out of our taxi in front of an old airplane hanger. White sided walls are lit by neon pink strip lights along the top edge of the roof. Black panels with white lettering spell out the words ‘roller rink’, each backlit by a darker pink.
I lace my fingers with Bea’s and drag her inside, watching her face as she sees the open interior. Iridescent tile is the backdrop for a wall of neon signs. In front of them is a long counter where staff are serving drinks and bar foods. A small version of the same area is beside us, blocking the door leading to their shoe storage.
“Welcome to the Blush Street Rollery!” A staff member greets us from behind the desk. “Can I help you find skates for your visit, or did you bring your own?”
“We’re renting,” I tell her, following up with both our shoe sizes. Bea side eyes me when I get hers correct, but I just smile. Checking the pile of shoes in the bottom of her closet was easy enough.
“Here you go!” They sit two pairs of white skates on the counter. Bea’s has pink laces while mine are purple, matching the wheels on the bottom. “We hope you have a wonderful time on Blush Street! Please remember, no food or drink in the skating area.”
“Have you ever been roller skating before?” I ask.
“We went a couple times when I was in middle school. Back when there was a rink open near my parent’s house. It’s been years since then. I can’t promise I won’t fall on my ass out there.”
I take her hand and pull her her feet, her chest pressing against mine. “Like I’d ever let you fall.”
She’s a little wobbly as we switch from the carpeted bar area onto the sleek rink, but I keep a tight grip on her hips to steady her. Muscle memory kicks in after a few minutes and we’re soon gliding in loops around the room.
A mix of modern and old school pop plays through the speakers overhead as we dance around each other. When the familiar notes of a viral social media song play, I swing in front of Bea. She laughs but slips her hand in mine, letting me guide us as I glide backwards. Her cheek presses against mine for several long seconds, scent marking me. A giddy rush of approval streaks up my spine, making my already wide smile grow impossibly larger.
Pushing her away, I twirl her beneath my arm. Her laughter echoes around us, setting my soul alight with the sound of her joy. I repeat the motion on my other side, twisting behind her, our fingers still entwined and crossed over her chest. My head rests on her shoulder as we sway to the beat, as lost in each other as we can be in a busy roller rink.
We skate for hours, taking breaks to grab drinks and snacks at the bar. Gone is the worry for our friends on the East Coast and all thought of the future. All that matters is the here and now. The love growing between us.
No matter what happens after the tour is over, I know I’m not giving Bea up. I refuse to go a single day without my mate at my side. One day soon, I’m going to claim my Fate Matched omega, and feel her deep in my soul where her bond belongs.
I can’t fucking wait.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A SOFT CREAKsnaps me awake from the light sleep I’d fallen into. My movements are silent as I slip to the bottom of the stairs, keeping my back to the wall as I creep up them. My phone beeps rhythmically in my pocket. An alert from the motion detectors placed at all the entrances and on the driveway.
Silencing the device, I activate the house’s camera system. A van is parked at the edge of the road, blocking our car in. A secondary vehicle pulls in behind them, the lights cut. Two men stand by the van while six more approach the house. I’m slipping into Omen’s room when they cut the power, ending my view of the security feeds.
I already know they are here. That will have to be enough.
Placing my hand over Omen’s mouth, I rouse her from sleep. I lean close enough to whisper against her ear, ignoring the way my alpha recoils. She chokes out my name and I still. The smell of smoke floats through the closed bedroom door.
Did these jackasses really set the fucking house on fire before they got their target out of it?!
“There are eight men outside,” I explain. ”Two by their van and six spread out around the house. They most likely kept one on each exit, with the other four heading inside.”
She nods, clenching her blankets tight. I know this feels unfair, to be endlessly hunted by her anti-designation family, but now isn’t the time for a pity party.
“Their goal is most likely to kill or incapacitate me, then grab you. I’m going to get us out of this house, but you need to do whatever I tell you, Omen. If I say run, you run. If I tell you to leave me behind, you will follow my direction without hesitation. I will use my bark on you if I have to. Nod once if you understand.”
After she agrees, I slip to the door and ease it open a hair. A door at the end of the hall slams open. The small room is an omega suite, which made it the perfect decoy. It’s also booby trapped.
I signal to Omen, who follows me into the hall and down the stairs. Her footsteps are louder than mine, but the sounds of the intruders’ movements and the fire cover the noise. Flames crawl across the dated wallpaper in the kitchen, blocking our ability to use the side window to escape. Movement at the front door confirms we’ll have to go out the back. I slip around the corner, keeping Omen close behind me.
A door opens several feet down from us, blocking our way out. I lunge at the man who steps through, pulling a knife from the holster on my hip. My weight catches him off guard, taking us both to the ground as I slam into his chest. My knife saws through the front of his throat, soaking us both in blood.
