Page 13 of The Rogues

His scent is even more bitter than usual, but I doubt it would seem abnormal to anyone else.

Another hand settles on my thigh and squeezes in support. My head whips to Malaki, but his brown eyes are set on the guitarist as she takes her seat. I realize the support he is seeking is for himself, strained by the powerlessness he feels as he watches her.

Is she his scent match, too?

I can feel his excitement through the bond, but also his nervousness. His campfire scent is sizzling, powerful. Besides myself and the executives, everyone else is either an omega or an alpha. Can they smell the spike of hormones mingling in the air? Can they tell that my alpha has just entered his hindbrain and is fighting his primal state to go to his mate and bow at her feet?

Looking around the room, it seems we’re in our own little world. Cleo is still glowering at the woman at the head of the table, while her bandmates seem to be on alert in case their singer decides to hop onto the table and attack their label exec.

But Josie is sitting still, frozen in her chair with her eyes glued to the table. Her scent is bubbly and intoxicating, like toasting with the best glass of champagne I’ve ever indulged in, but there is a sliver of something nervous there, too. An anxious note hidden inside the beautiful, alluring aura.

“Okay, let’s get started.” The label exec claps her hands. My nose scrunches at everything in this room. It’s too polished, too professional. Our label is much more laid-back, but maybe that’s telling of the different margin brackets that our bands bring in. I turn to look at Malaki as he runs a hand through his blue hair nervously, trying to pay attention to the meeting rather than the more important matter at hand. The exec continues. “My name is Donna. Do we need to do formal introductions, or does everyone know each other?”

“Not that it matters because two of their members didn’t even care to show up,” Cleo murmurs.

Cyrus’s cocky smile makes an appearance at her dig. “Our bassist had a family emergency and Lennon has had the flu for two weeks. We thought it was best if he didn’t grace us with his presence just this once, in case anyone here had a compromised immune system.”

The way he says it makes Cleo’s body tense before she huffs out an omega growl that has me sitting up straighter.

“I think we’re all healthy and good here, Mr. Darlington, but it’s fine. You can relay the information when he gets better.”

My mind travels to Lennon, who is currently at our L.A. home, probably watching his favorite show and relaxing as much as he can. We knew this meeting would be stressful, and considering his current flare-up, we all thought it would be best if he sat this one out.

Despite the fact that Cyrus knew Cleo would take it as a jab, he wasn’t lying when he said we had to protect those with compromised immune systems. Lennon needed his strength for the upcoming tour, which is going to be twice as long as we’re used to, and this meeting is not a priority compared to his health.

“What will the bus situation look like?” Lark asks, looking annoyed with the arguing and ready to get this show on the road.

“You’ll be on different buses,” Donna announces.

“Thank god for that,” Cleo mutters.

“Cleo,” a lady beside them warns, a bark laced into her tone, and I realize that she must be an alpha. She looks back at the executive, but instead of kindness, her eyes are sharp, like she is also irritated that her girls have to go through this mess.

I know our band isn’t any happier about having to be in Vicious Velvet’s orbit again, but their reach is far, and since we’re new to American charts, this tour is a dream come true. It can help launch us even further than we ever thought possible.

And selfishly, it can help take some of the burden off Cyrus. He is constantly pressured into letting his public persona and legacy as an heir of an aristocrat carry us into the spotlight. People love the fantasy, but maybe now they can love our talent too.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off her throughout the meeting. Josie must feel my eyes on her, but she does her best to pay attention to the discussion rather than looking my way. Her frontwoman is hostile, and I remember the stories Cyrus had told me about Cleo during their PR stunt together, so this energy seems on brand for her. Still, I hate the way it makes Josie sink into her seat, flinching with every cursed word that gets carelessly thrown into conversation.

I can’t seem to focus when the last piece of our pack’s puzzle just seemed to nestle her way into our life, both unexpected and glorious. With her beautiful dark hair, arms splattered in tattoos, her lips a dark auburn red. My cock hasn’t gotten the memo that this isn’t the time for arousal. It doesn’t care about the bitter words or the tense looks everyone is throwing at each other. It only has one thing on its mind, and it’s a pretty omega that we can actually smell.

The only other time where I felt this out of control was when I discovered Cyrus and Malaki were my scent matches, but it was much easier to calm our beasts because of the years of bonding between us. Now, I find myself glancing over, trying to be discreet. Cyrus and Malaki are much more subtle about their distraction, still engaging and working through the logistics of sound check allotments and whether we will have separate equipment managers, but I can’t be bothered. Not one bit.

I continue to try to catch the demure omega’s eye, but she never looks in my direction. She diverts her attention anywhere but where I desperately need it, and it’s the first indication that we have a long road ahead of us.

Something cracks inside my chest, and I don’t hear anything else discussed for the rest of the meeting.

After the meeting, everything happens so fast. The executives leave, and we all stand, but before Malaki and I can do what we both desperately want to, Cyrus barks, “Sit back down.”

We both do, overtaken by the alpha command spilling from his tongue.

Vicious Velvet’s manager—Ruby—gives him a disgusted look. “I hope you don’t abuse your alpha bark all the time. If you ever try to use that on the girls, I will end you.”

Despite the threat, Cyrus’s lips twitch, and glee enters the bond, admiration for the protective force that leads our rival band. “These are my bandmates. I promise I will not use it on anyone other than the ones who have already consented to it.”

Ruby nods, appeased by the answer. “Come on, ladies. We have a few other things to discuss.”

The omegas follow her out of the room. Cleo leaves us with one last lingering glare, Nicola sticks her tongue out, and Lark gives a weak tilt of her lips, pity dancing in her eyes.