I can’t pull my eyes away from Cole, though. He’s nearly unrecognizable, so many machines stand vigil around the head of the bed and connect to him. A large gash on his temple is stitched and cleaned, and he’s been dressed in one of those horrid hospital gowns. All the color is leeched from his cheeks. He looks nothing like the smiling man I’d kissed this morning.
Grief wells up in me, so profound it’s impossible to think around. I drop onto the edge of the bed and drape myself over his legs, pressing my forehead into his thigh. He doesn’t respond—of course not, they’d said he’s in a coma—but the lack of his touch, of his emotions in my own body, of his apple scent surrounding me like the world’s best blanket, breaks me in a way the waiting all day hasn’t. The tears are inelegant, a rushing torrent of emotion. Megan’s hand is gentle on my shoulder, and Charlotte’s quick to press a kiss to the nape of my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” Megan whispers.
And the words suddenly have me thinking of him, of that night, of my own stupidity that’s brought us to this moment—that’s made my Omega so horrifically sick.
Forty
THREE YEARS AGO, LOS ANGELES
MARCUS
“Fantastic seeing you as always, Mr. Bowen.”
The coordinator for one of the local youth charities smiled warmly as I shook her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, of course,” I said, keeping my voice warm. “How has everything been with the classes this year?”
This coordinator was the final person I needed to see before I could finally duck out of the event. Not that this particular schmooze-fest was all that awful. In fact, it was a happier and lighter affair than a good portion of the events I attended on behalf of the LA Philharmonic as the Assistant Director of Donations. But there was an itching sensation just under my skin that I couldn’t manage to shake the entire night, like wearing the worst wool and being unable to do anything about it.
“Oh, simply wonderful,” she beamed. “The kids have loved having a few of the musicians come by and play with them. We’re so grateful you were able to make that happen for us.”
My smile was more genuine then. “Always happy to get kids excited about art and music. And the musicians who volunteered are just as passionate.”
“You can certainly tell.” She took a small sip from her champagne flute. I didn’t bother to mirror the action, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Oh, I don’t know if we can make requests. We’re of course delighted with every one of your musicians who is willing to come. But the cellist, Mr. Miller? The kids absolutely adore him.”
Jasper Miller was one of the newest additions to the philharmonic, joining about a year before. He was calm and polite and brilliant with teaching, especially children.
“Glad to hear it. I’ll reach out through the channels and see if he’s available for more time.”
“Margie, do you have a moment?” Johnathan Fallon stepped up beside her, a careful, polite touch to her elbow.
Johnathan Fallon was the reason this particular event was better than most. He had an understated taste to these types of things—understated but over-performing. It was practically the unsung motto of his financial conglomerate, Fallon Capitol. It certainly held true for the three non-profits he funded in LA, practically entirely independently. Sure, other donors were listed and given space on walls and pamphlets and social medias. But realistically? It was Johnathan Fallon writing most of the checks that kept these music non-profits functioning.
“Oh, of course,” she said with another warm smile. “You’ve met Marcus Bowmen, right? He’s the Assistant Director of Donations for the LA Philharmonic.”
Johnathan shook my hand with a brief smile. “Of course. Pleasure to see you again.”
I offered a general nicety back and tucked my hand in the pocket of my suit pants. That itchiness was getting worse. Another few minutes, and I wouldn’t be able to keep it offmy face. No one wanted nor needed an Alpha losing their shit at a high brow event like this. And it wasn’t like I even had something—someone—to freak out over.
Sometimes the instincts and drives just really fucking sucked.
“I’m sorry to pull her away,” he offered, breaking through my thoughts.
I gave another bland smile that I hoped looked more convincing than it felt. “Not at all. Have a wonderful night, both of you.”
As they walked away, retreating into the small milling crowd, I set my half-drunk whiskey on the table nearest me and then quickly exited the doors on the far side of the ballroom that led to a balcony. I needed fresh air, and I needed it now.
The balcony was decorated with strings of lights that shone almost yellow in the fading sunlight. A few people milled about, chatting with each other. One couple stood off to the side, clearly not part of this particular event based on their attire. The man leaned into the woman, wrapping his arm around her waist as she giggled.
Fuck, that just made the itchiness worse.
I forced my gaze away, pulling out my phone to give me something to do. There were a few outdoor seats open maybe twenty feet down the balcony. I dropped into one, doing my best to ignore the young blond man sprawled out on one of the others, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. His suit was even nicer than mine, something probably bespoke. The tie was definitely silk, as was his shirt, both catching a faint shimmer under the string lights above us. His face was made of sharp cheekbones and full lips and long, dark lashes that would make more than one woman weep. His olive skin looked exquisite in the fading sun.
My body took an interest that I immediately tried to squash down. Trying to hook up with someone was not the smartest idea right now. Partly because it would be unwise when I was technically here in an official capacity and anybody from that charity event could see me sneak off with a stranger. But mostly not when every fiber of my being was vibrating with a need I hadn’t felt since I’d accidentally ended up helping out an Omega classmate in college when she dropped suddenly into heat right before our class started.
I forced my gaze away and scrolled aimlessly through social media, not really seeing any of the posts. When that no longer worked, I switched to the local climbing group page and read through the latest gossip in there.
