Page 54 of Waiting for Fate
Slipping my arms under her back, I help pull her to her feet. She has her shorts pulled halfway up her thighs when I stop her, cupping her pussy. I slip two fingers back inside of her, twisting them to coat them in her slick.
Bea raises one brow in my direction when I pull them out and take a step backwards.
“A gift,” I explain. “For your reluctant mate.”
Her eyes blow wide, a burst of her perfume making my cock twitch uncomfortably. She hurries to pull her shorts up and follows me to the door, watching through a small gap as I jog to Lex’s car and climb inside.
My roommate groans when I climb into the passenger’s seat. I reach across the car, swiping my slick coated fingers across his lips before buckling myself in. Lex’s eyes are wide, his pupils dilated until the steely gray almost looks black.
“What the fuck, Ridley,” he growls.
I let a shit-eating grin stretch across my face. “Just wanted you to have a taste of what you’re missing.”
“I’m going to kick your ass,” he grumbles, adjusting himself. His eyes fly to Bea’s door, meeting hers. My sweet mate offers him the most seductive smile, waving and blowing a kiss in our direction before she lets the door swing closed. “Fucking Fates.”
The loud rock music he blares through the speakers drowns out my laughter. I stare at Bea’s apartment through the side mirror until it disappears around the corner, taking the most important pieces of my soul with it.
A new countdown begins. One without an end date, but still holding the same goal. Soon, my omega will bear my bite and hold my bond.
I just have to catch a psychopath first.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LYING AGAINST MYheadboard, I rest one hand behind my head and stare up at the ceiling. My apartment feels empty. Lifeless. The bare walls and sparse furniture lack the warmth of a true home, reminding me of how alone I feel here.
New York City was once my haven. The place where the other half of my soul flourished. When Ren’s light went out, I found solace in routine. It’s only now that I realize I’ve been coasting by on a never ending to-do list instead of actually living.
My alarm chirps beside me, and I slowly climb from my bed. Instead of heading to the label for work, I have a therapy appointment this morning. I’ve increased from monthly to bi-weekly visits since that night in Fairytale. Realizing the pull I feel towards Bea has deeper roots than the scent of her heat has shaken me to my core.
That was nearly six weeks ago. With the band she manages touring the West Coast, there have been few opportunities for us to talk about the connection between us. Not that I would know what to say. I proved as much when I ran into her in the manager’s office last week.
My therapist, Mia, is an older beta with grayish-white hair and a kind smile. She came highly recommended by the label, having worked with other artists in the past. Her specialty is grief, which makes her the best candidate to take over my sessions with my previous therapist in California.
Sitting in the small waiting room, I see another alpha sitting across from me. His strong jaw is clenched tight, fingers clenched into fists where his arms are crossed over his chest. He’s wide and tall, looking more like traditional alphas than my lithe frame. The bounce in his knee belies his nervousness. It throws me back to the first time I sat in an office like this. Overwhelmed with loss and struggling to accept I needed help.
Unlike this alpha, I hadn’t stayed. I walked right back out of the office and drowned myself in alcohol. A decision that nearly cost me everything.
“Orion Walker,” the receptionist calls. I give the other alpha a quick nod, hoping he can see in my eyes that this is the right path to take.
Mia is sitting in a cozy gray armchair. The bright oranges and yellows of her outfit the only splash of color in the blank room. She uses this tactic to keep her client’s attention on her. Drawing their eyes with bright colors and putting them at ease with her welcoming demeanor.
“Orion! It’s wonderful to see you! How are you feeling this morning?”
I take a seat on the dark couch across from her, resting my elbows on my knees. “I’m… as lost as ever,” I admit.
She nods, sitting aside her yellow legal pad. There is a weight in the air, one filled with all of the guilt and regret clogging my head. “Have you seen Bea since your meeting in her office last week?”
My head shakes in denial. “No. I know she had to take some time off. Her friend…” I trail off, unsure if it is my place to share the secrets I’ve learned. I push forward, remembering our conversations are confidential. The need to get my worries off my chest is stronger than my concern for secrecy. “That omega who was live streamed fighting Pastor Montgomery? That’s Bea’s best friend. She’s been away from the office to help with the aftermath.”
Mia hums, but doesn’t comment.
“I’m worried about her. Bea, that is. Being close to one of the Montgomerys paints a target on her back.”
“It is natural for an alpha to feel protective of his omega when they perceive a danger in their vicinity. What can you do to alleviate that need?”
I stare at the floor, thinking things through. Suddenly pushing my way into Bea’s life won’t do us any good. She deserves an apology for the distance I’ve kept between us, and an explanation about my history, before I try to earn a place in her pack.
“Talking to her would help.”
