Page 35 of The Rogues

She nods, realizing this is really a farewell. She swallows roughly, getting up from her seat on shaking knees. My hand goes to her elbow on instinct, and she smiles at me.

I beam, preening. I could live an entire lifetime with that smile pointed at me and never tire from it.

“Goodnight, Cyrus Darlington,” she says, her eyes shining.

It takes a few tries as emotion catches in my throat. “Goodnight, Josie.”

My eyes trail after her as she walks away, my alpha whining in my chest. I place my hand over it, trying to soothe the ache building there. Not just for me, but for my pack, for knowing I have to go upstairs soon and tell them of Josie’s wishes. I have no doubt that they will honor them, but I know it will be heartbreaking.

I don’t want to be the executioner that has to deal that blow, but being a prime is more than just having control. It’s more than just keeping things together. It’s about showing by example, by being strong for the members who can’t shoulder it by themselves, and I’ll never let my pack suffer alone.

I have to go tell them. I just need to figure out how to keep the tears at bay first.

TWELVE

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS

We all practically fall through the hotel door at half past three, exhaustion seeping into our bones from the double rehearsal we had today. We couldn’t even stay to get a glimpse of Josie for their practice run because we were all so ready to get out of the empty, stale arena.

“I’m absolutely knackered.” Lennon yawns, falling onto the sofa. He places his arm over his eyes, likely sensitive to the big light. I move to the lamp and tap it, before heading over to turn off the light switch. He squints over his forearm, then meets my eyes. “Thanks, Kai.”

“No problem.” I perch on the armrest as Jamie and Cyrus cuddle up on the end of the couch. Remi stalks around the kitchen, looking for anything citrusy to get his juice fix.

“God, I want a fucking mimosa,” he grinds out as he looks inside the fridge, only to come up empty-handed.

“It’s almost four o’clock,” Cyrus jokes.

“Like that stops you from drinking champagne all hours of the day,” he grumbles. “We know it’s not so you can get buzzed.”

That zaps the fun from the room so fast, letting somberness seep through the cracks. We haven’t talked about Josie much since she told Cyrus that she needed space. It’s just one big sore spot between us that’s been left untouched. Anytime we even bring her up, it’s done with vague comments like the one Remi just spat out.

It’s been a month since that disappointing night. The tour has been roaring on, but we’re all just going through the motions.

Cyrus came back that night and told us what Josie had requested. I knew he was trying to put on a brave face, but it was the most broken I had ever seen him.

I know we had to respect her decision. He looked us all in the eyes, telling us sternly that it has to be Josie’s choice to pursue us back. “I think it’ll happen, we just have to be patient,” he told us then. But it’s been weeks. Every night, we sing right before them, pass them on the way back to our dressing room. Most nights, Jamie and I sneak back out to the wing to listen to their set. Despite how painful it is when we ultimately have to walk away, I can’t seem to stop. Josie is a superstar. Watching her thrash on her guitar while the crowd screams is something to behold. It eases my alpha of all his hurt even just for a brief moment, and that makes it all worthwhile.

“Don’t take it out on me, Alpha,” Cyrus says pointedly, almost baring his teeth. “I’ll call room service and get you what you need, but don’t take your anguish out on me.”

He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Sorry, Cy.”

They move on like nothing happened as Cyrus moves to call room service. I steal a glance at Remi. His guilt is palpable as he bows his head. His eyes are sunken, and it’s more than just the pressure of rehearsal. He is obviously feeling his grief deeply today, the notion that he has lost his omega still an open scar trying to heal, bloody, bruised, and gaping.

I don’t blame him one bit, to be honest. I’m sure his alpha is howling at him as much as mine is. More even, because I have Jamie to fall into. Remi and Lennon don’t have that secure bond to escape into, so I’m sure they’re feeling the weight of it just as much.

I look over at Jamie, who is furrowing into Cyrus’s side with a solemn frown. My heart aches as I watch him, knowing he is hiding the extent of his sadness behind a wall in our bond.

Apparently the night Jamie and Josie had together was magical. He couldn’t stop smiling for days afterwards, and although he wouldn’t divulge what happened, he said it was the start of something beautiful. To have that ripped away from him so quickly after it happened breaks my heart for him. The rest of us are feeling this loss even without the proper time to cultivate our relationships with Josie, but Jamie had the seedling of one. They had connected, and then it was over just as quickly as it started.

I walk over to the couch and sit on Jamie’s other side. My alpha whines in my chest, wanting to comfort him.

I hate seeing him so defeated, knowing he wants something he can’t have. I used to feel that way about him, too. I wasn’t sure how things would go after we all designated, especially because Cyrus also loved Jamie. When the universe blessed us with being scent matches, everything just worked out, the three of us able to correlate our emotions in a much easier way.

But that’s not how this situation is progressing, and I can see how devastated my beta is over it.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” Lennon says, pulling himself off the couch with dramatic flair.

“Me too,” Remi mutters, his hand clutching a water bottle as he heads to his own bedroom. All three of us watch them head into their rooms, and a tense somberness falls over us in their absence.