Page 22 of Hidden Fates

“Also, Quentin Crowley has been blowing up my email trying to reach you.”

One of Skye’s Alphas has been trying to reach me?

Why?

“I’m putting my foot down. Whether you go after your drool-worthy Fate-matched mate is your choice, but staying in Orbital Somatic isn’t.”

Mischief twinkles in her eyes when my phone pings from the pocket of my bag. I dig it out, finding a message from an unknown number. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, finger hovering over it.

Before I can decide for myself, one of Bea’s long pink nails appears and does it for me. I love this woman—in a totally platonic, sisterly way—but if she doesn’t stop meddling, I’m going to lock her in the janitor’s closet.

Caleb, this is Quentin.

We are throwing a surprise birthday party for Skye next Saturday at our home in Starburgh. 6 p.m. Casual attire.

If you need a ride, let me know.

Another message follows, listing an address out by the lake. I must sit and stare at the message for too long, because Bea’s heels tap impatiently on the floor. “So?”

Rolling my eyes, I close out of the message and shove my phone back into my bag. “They invited me to their house next weekend. Like you, it is more of a demand than a question.”

Bea claps her hands together. “Perfect timing. We have an entire week to find someone to fill your place in the band, and for you to pull your head out of your ass.”

She isn’t fazed by my glower as she chatters about her plans for the guys. Leaving Orbital Somatic and their pack is as weird as it is relieving. I never truly fit in with them, an instinct I should have listened to months ago instead of trying to tough it out.

This is the best path for all of us.

I just have to be brave enough to follow it.

Lying alone in my hotel room, I stare up at the ceiling, so turned on it’s ridiculous.

Now that I’m aware of my connection to Skye, I can’t help but question how much of this is from me and how much is from her.

Is she in her nest with her mates? Letting them touch her soft skin and savor the sweet nectar between her thighs?

My hand travels down my chest and beneath my shorts to grip my length. In the rare moments I allow myself to remember, I swear I can still taste her on my tongue. An intoxicating mixture of sweet florals and smoked honey.

A groan falls from my lips as I stroke myself. The memory of her spread before me is so vivid I can feel the ghost of her thigh beneath my palm as I push her legs to her chest.

I want that again. To feel her. Taste her. Love her.

My eyes fall shut as I lose myself in the memories, cock pulsing with need and my balls growing heavy. I spiral higher and higher, Skye’s name leaving my lips on a groan as I come, coating my hand and the inside of my shorts in my release.

As I pant for breath, regret and shame slowly bubble back to the surface. I don’t know if I can be the Alpha she needs me to be. Not when I’ve spent so many years trying to glue my broken pieces back together.

Chapter Eight

Standing in the massive closet off of Skye’s bedroom, I flick through the clothes Quentin sent here. Everything she owns is a shade of pastel; the styles a mix of cozy and whimsical. Flowy dresses, thick sweaters, and puff-sleeved shirts take up an entire section of the wall.

If we move here permanently, the room will overflow when the stuff from LA ships over. Not that I can say anything negative about her love for clothes when my closet is just as full.

My fingers stumble over a high-waisted, black and white plaid skirt. Tulle layers the bottom, giving it volume. I grab it from the rack and lay it across the bench in the center of the room. A fluffy white cardigan catches my eye, so I add it to the pile along with a high-neck tank top.

I have to step into the bedroom to find her suitcase, where she abandoned it at the bottom of her bed. Her jewelry is packed inside, including the thin leather choker with a heart-shaped ring at the center. One of the many courting gifts we bought her.

Sitting my clothes beside hers, I sneak into the nest. She’s curled between Sterling and Bellamy, one arm tossed across the latter’s face, and her lips parted as she lets out adorable snores.

Reaching beneath the blankets, I find her ankle and slowly drag her away from them. They shuffle their positions, but only Sterling wakes. When he sees me, he rolls onto his stomach and falls back asleep.