Page 14 of The Rogues

But Josie’s steps are slow, obviously unsure if she should leave without saying anything to us. She looks over, and my heart pumps faster, suddenly happy that I get to see her stunning green eyes pointed in my direction.

“Josie,” Lark says, watching her intently. Josie looks to her friend and, despite the conflict waging between herself and her omega, follows her right out of the room.

As soon as she is gone, it’s like a hole has been left behind. Her scent starts to dissipate, and I suddenly can’t stand it anymore.

“This is fucked up,” I grunt. “We can’t just let her⁠—”

“Shush,” Cyrus barks at me again, and my temper flares.

“Don’t tell me to⁠—”

“There are cameras in here,” he reminds me, his eyes looking up at one in the corner. I shut my mouth, finding myself back in reality as I realize where we are. We can’t discuss this here. I’m not sure what I was thinking other than she’s our mate, she’s our mate, she’s our mate.

“Let’s go,” Malaki says gently, his palm going to the small of my back as he leads me outside, trailing after our prime in utter silence. It’s comfortable, but there’s a tension between us that hasn’t been there in fucking years. It’s wild how something as small as a smell can rock our entire worlds, but it’s all we can think about it; evident in the way the bond lights up with leftover arousal from the meeting.

When we get to the car, Malaki slides into the backseat with me and holds my hand, his grip secure while everything feels like it’s crumbling down around me.

“I know this isn’t ideal,” Cyrus starts, turning his body to see us both from the driver’s seat. “This tour is important to both of the bands. And with our so-called ‘rivalry,’ I think we need to play it safe when it comes to who knows this information.”

I nod, completely forgetting that the public thinks Cyrus and Cleo are real exes with a history. “Fuck,” I mutter out loud, hanging my head in my hands. “Shit. This could be a disaster.”

“Yes, it could. And we don’t know what Josie is thinking, so we have to wait to talk to her—alone. We can’t out that kind of discovery without her consent.”

Her face shows up behind my eyelids, and my stomach twists with nausea. “She looked so scared,” I comment, shaking my head. “I just wish I could… make her feel better, comfort her. Is that crazy? We don’t even know each other yet.”

“It’s not crazy,” Malaki reassures me. “It’s very normal for you to instantly feel connected to your scent match. It was different with us, because we all already knew each other. But this is normal, I promise.”

Malaki continues, asking Cyrus, “Do you think she’s scent matched to Remi and Lennon, too?”

Cyrus nods. “It wouldn’t make sense if she weren’t. We’re a pack, with secure pack bonds. We are bonded,” he points between us three. “If she isn’t their scent match, and she’s only bound to us, then there’s still another omega out there for them.”

That doesn’t sound plausible. Remi and Lennon are my pack mates, but they aren’t my scent matches or my mates. That lies only with Malaki and Cyrus. It doesn’t make sense for them to be isolated a second time. “But that’s not what your instincts are saying,” I observe, seeing Cyrus’s features remain neutral.

He gives a confirming nod. “My instincts are saying she is theirs just as much as she is ours.”

“What do we do then?” I ask. “We’re going to be with them for an entire tour. One of the longest tours in history.”

“We have to follow her lead,” Cyrus answers like the prime he is. “And we have to talk to the rest of our pack.”

SIX

As seen on Punk-Tune TV

“The cat is out of the bag! Rival punk groups, Vicious Velvet and The Rogues, are now officially in cahoots and will be performing alongside each other in their upcoming co-headlining tour. What was deemed the Whimsical Hearts Tour is now the All or Nothing Tour, hosted by our two favorite rock bands of the century.

The surprise came as a shock to fans late yesterday afternoon, as Cleo Del Rossi and Cyrus Darlington seem to still be on bad terms since their breakup last fall. Some fans speculate that they had little say in the matter, falling prey to the teams and personnel working in tandem to create the most successful tour either label has seen to date. Others see this as a sign that things might finally be mending between the two, or that this could be their way of soft launching their relationship once more…”

Even though it’s probably the worst place for me to be, I decide to go clubbing with the girls that night.

I’ve never been much of a partier. Even back in high school, when parties seemed to ramp up and become something everyone else enjoyed, I still couldn’t grasp what made them so fun. I don’t drink very often, and the forced mingling always left me in hives.

But Nicola, Lark, and Cleo loved it, so I went with them every time they asked. I was usually the one driving us home so we wouldn’t get into trouble with our parents. It always made me feel different, and not in a good way like Cleo always claimed I was.

It’s ironic considering the scent that came in when I designated as an omega was champagne of all things. Like a cruel little joke from the universe.

Despite how much I hated those parties, I miss high school sometimes. I miss our group blossoming into something so solid and dependable that we knew we could take on the world with our music.

I miss those days… I miss those parties. I miss my friends.