Page 39 of Lyric & the Heartbeats

No alphas. No pack. No distractions, no conflict.

Stepping under the spray, she sighed as the hot water rained down on her. Then with each swipe of the loofah over her skin, she erased the scent of spices and alpha and beta from her body.

By the time she stepped out onto the fluffy floor mat, she felt better. Gone was the weight of their scents, the implications of their presence, but what still remained threatened to consume her thoughts.

“Momma, why’d you name me Lyric? That’s a silly name.”

She remembered her mother’s sharp gaze, critical eyes, and her eternal hope. “It’s not a silly name. Lyric, don’t you see yourself? You’re so pretty. You’re gonna grow up to be the kind of omega some alpha is gonna find and write songs about.”

“I like music too. Do you think he’ll let me help?”

Her brow had buckled in disapproval, and even then Lyric had known better than to ask a question like that.

“No, honey. Omegas are meant to provide stability to their pack. To take care of them, and in turn, the alphas will take care of you. You can’t take care of them if you’re too busy with your nose buried in music, now can you?”

Shaking the skewed logic from her mind, she hummed a few lines of a random song. Focusing on the tune helped get those memories out of her head, and she slid between the cool sheets with a sigh.

But as soon as her focus shifted, her mother’s voice was back. Lyric had never mastered outrunning that woman’s ghost.

“Once you find an alpha, you’ll understand. There’s a spark that you won’t feel with anyone else.”

With a groan, she rolled to the side, punched her pillow down, and snuggled into the covers. Lyric hated that a beta hadn’t fallen into her life for her to fall in love with and settle down just to spite her mother’s ghost. But Lyric had never found more than a few shallow hookups out of the betas she’d dated.

There was nothing wrong with an omega who wanted those things. An alpha and a pack and a stable home to take care of. Just like there was nothing wrong with her wanting a career before an alpha. Wanting to take care of herself instead of someone else, or a pack of someones.

That was the kind of life her mother had dreamed of having for herself, and the dream she’d watched her own sister live. Lyric’s mother had never gotten over the ‘unfairness’ of it all, watching her sister grow into a beautiful omega, find her pack, and leave her family behind, while Lyric’s mom watched from the sidelines as a beta.

Lyric was sure there were plenty of omegas who would love the kind of easy life her mother wanted her to have so badly.

Lyric just wasn’t one of them.

She wasn’t when her mother tried so hard to make her into the perfect omega, and she wasn’t now, nor would she ever be.

It was sad that her mother had died before she could let go of the jealousy, before those dreams could come true.

Lyric was going to make sure that same fate wasn’t hers.

Rehearsals were Lyric’s new favorite part of the day. After finally opening up to the music and the others, each practice was more flawless than the last, but there was still something missing. So by the time she led them to the rehearsal venue, production completed and ready to be tested, she was bouncing in her sneakers to show them.

“Will you open the door already? I’m dying!” Nohen whined.

Lyric snickered before pressing her back against the door. “Don’t be so dramatic. Cover your eyes,” she ordered.

Emerson sighed at her antics, but after a hearty glare, he obeyed. Adra and Desi complied much easier.

“Okay, please don’t peek. I want your genuine reactions.” Nerves speared her stomach. “And if you honestly don’t like something, please let me know. We can do what we can to fix it in time.”

“It’s your tour, Lyric. We’re just the backup,” Desi said, intending the words to be comforting.

Instead, a funny uncomfortableness tightened her chest, but she swallowed the argument. They had to know the tour depended on them just as much as it did her. There was no show without each of them.

“Okay, opening. Don’t peek,” she insisted. Then she pushed the door in and grabbed Nohen’s hand.

“You can look down, just not up. Not yet,” she said. “Watch your step.”

With a lot of guiding, a few curses, and a stubbed toe, she finally got them to the center of the empty venue. They were standing in the general admissions area, hands covering their eyes.

Excitement was vibrating off of them, and she wondered if her own giddiness was as palpable.