“I scared you,” he mumbled. “I’m not very good right now. Not at my best.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered, not sure how to respond.
He rubbed roughly at the back of his neck before turning away and rejoining his band mates. He said something to them, too low for me to hear, and then they all walked over to the Beta woman to talk. She nodded and left the room.
I crossed my arms, hugging myself and waiting to see what I should do.
Ryder was the first to approach me this time. He moved with a strange mix of caution and purpose, as if I might bolt like a frightened deer. I couldn’t blame him; that’s how I was feeling. How hard would it be for me to sneak away tonight? I’d take what I needed, maybe there was some cash in the house… rock stars always have cash lying around, don’t they? Drugs aren’t cheap.
"Tessa," he addressed me, and just the sound of my name slipping from his lips sent a shiver down my spine, "Dixon’s right. You’re not a product. I think we understand a little how this has been for you.”
“You think you understand?” I lifted my brows, jutting out my chin in a weak effort to appear like I wasn’t struggling. “I’ve been prodded and poked and… and…” my voice cracked. I shook myself a little, then continued. “I can’t even blame anyone but myself.”
Ryder looked like he wanted to know more, but what he said next wasn’t a series of prying questions. “The Eros Institute may have matched us, but you're not merchandise. You're a person. We know that." Ryder pointed over his shoulder, indicating the rest of his band mates. His pack. My pack now.
The other three moved closer. Dixon still seemed a little wild, like a mustang suddenly yanked into domesticity and away from open land and free range. Tray was smiling boyishly, dimples on full display. Mac still hung back for some reason. I recalled an article in Modern Men of Music from a few years back. The other guys had described Mac as their resident voice of reason. Always the designated driver, always making sure they ate and exercised. When the rest of them wanted to throw in the towel on a song, he doggedly kept at it until he broke down whatever barrier was in the way.
"We're not expecting anything," Mac added, his cultured voice carrying from where he stood. "No, I suppose that’s a lie. We wouldn’t have gone through this process if we weren’t expecting something.” He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not saying this right.”
“You know things have gone sideways when Mac’s at a loss for words,” Tray playfully shoved his shoulder against Mac before clarifying. “I think what he’s trying to say is that we need you. Maybe as much as you need us?” That last bit was a questioned.
“But no one is going to pressure you,” Dixon added fiercely.
“This as your home now, Tessa.” Ryder brought my attention back to him. “Home is supposed to be a sanctuary. You’re not supposed to be scared when you’re there surrounded by people who?—”
He suddenly stopped speaking. I knew what he was going to say though—love you.
A home. Safety. Surrounded by love.
Those were things that I never expected to have again. Not that love existed yet. I wasn’t sure it even could.Aside from a teenage obsession with their music and a delicious encounter one night years ago, these Alphas were complete strangers. Everything I’d read in magazines or online were just public personas. Each of them was an enigma, ones I’d have to be brave enough to decipher.
But looking at Ryder—who offered me this gentleness that was nothing like that impulsive Alpha who’d grabbed me backstage and kissed me senseless—I wondered if I could really think of this place as home.
If I could be brave enough to trust. Brave enough to love.
Yet those concepts—home and bravery and trust—belonged to another time, to another Tessa. I wasn’t sure if I could ever really recapture the girl I’d once been before my entire family went down in flames.
“We understand trust has to be earned.” This from Mac.
“You can trust us.” A growl from Dixon.
“I’m an open book.” Tray slapped his chest proudly. “And Ilovecats.”
“He might be more excited about Josie than you, actually.” Ryder smirked at his brother-in-music.
Hope hung like a fragile promise in the air around us, which was now so thickly scented with our bodily responses to one another that I was feeling a little dizzy.
If I let myself be open to the possibility of staying here, of joining with them, then I also opened myself to potential grief again. The shelter had been a glimmer of promise, and it had been ripped away cruelly. How many times would fate punish me? How many times could I stand back up and survive after each disappointment?
Silence descended.
They were surrounding me now, each of their large broad bodies walling me into place, but I wasn’t scared. This wasn’t like at The Institute when I’d been surrounded as a form of control. This was a border ofprotection. I could feel it to my marrow. Their auras were warm and bright and protective. I felt effervescent, bubbles of joy tickling my toes and rising upward through my body to swirl and pop in my brain. My Omega stretched inside, as if she’d been too long cramped into the fetal position, her heats ignored as we struggled to stay alive on the streets.
My stomach clenched, lower sensitive parts tingling.
God, they all smelled so good.
Dixon rolled his shoulders, eyes partially closing. He seemed to be fighting to keep it together. Instinctively, I wanted to reach for him. He needed soothing, needed release. Though I had no experience mating, I knew what it meant for an Alpha to exist without a bond, without a proper mate. Eventually, an Alpha can’t hold onto sanity. It wasn’t just their auras heating me up, I realized as my fingers grazed Dixon’s arm. I’d known I was due for a heat. They hadn’t come regularly being homeless; without proper nutrition and guaranteed safety, I’d been too physically and mentally weak. It was impossible to know exactly when a heat would hit. If I had to guess now though, with the way every single part of me wanted to launch myself into Dixon’s arms, I’d say it was a matter of days before my cycle was in full swing.
