Page 71 of Hidden Fates

Soft lips pepper my jaw before my Omega lets me pull away, a dopey smile on her sweet face.

“Thank you, Alpha. That felt amazing.”

Blushing deeply, I lift her from the water and wrap her in a fluffy towel. The tub drains as I grab a soft robe for her. She prefers to lounge naked, but there is a chill in the air that requires at least an outer layer to keep her warm.

“Can we cuddle in the nest?”

Giving her an indulgent smirk, I twist my fingers in the air to urge her to spin around. Goosebumps dot her arms as I slide the fluffy robe over her shoulders and tie it around her waist.

“Go get settled. I’ll follow.”

The shutters are open when I walk in, giving my mate a stunning view of the snow that still flutters through the air. She pats the floor beside her, lifting the thick blanket she’s wrapped in so that I can slip beneath it. One arm winds around her waist, the other tucks beneath her head, and I pull her closer.

We lie there for hours, talking softly and dozing off and on, only breaking our bubble when her stomach rumbles loudly and the scent of whatever incredible concoction Sterling has made for dinner wafts through the partly closed door.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Blinking open dry eyes, I’m confused by the bright light streaming into my room. With only one decently sized window and high-quality blackout curtains, it’s never this well lit when I get up.

Forcing myself to sit up, I shift the peach comforter away from my lap and freeze. This isn’t my room. It’s Skye’s.

How the hell did I end up here?

As I run my hand over the cold pillow beside me, small hints of moonflower reach my nose, easing a bit of my heaviness.

Three days ago, Emmett’s sister had called to tell him their grandmother had fallen and was in the hospital. He has rushed to help her, taking Quentin and Skye with him.

Before they left, I hadn’t considered how Skye going to Rhode Island would affect me. We’ve barely been bonded for two weeks and are still recovering from the eight years of bond sickness I put her through.

Fates, I’m a shit Alpha. I should have expected this and gone with her.

Is she feeling it? Probably not. She has Quentin and Emmett with her, and she’s too busy taking care of his grandmother to notice any off feelings.

Dragging myself off the bed, I stumble to her bathroom and start the shower. I should go downstairs and use my own, but I can’t handle the thought of leaving her space. It feels like her scent is the only thing holding me together.

A thought that makes me feel worse. What kind of Alpha can’t handle his Omega going to visit her other mate’s family for a few days without turning into a half-zombie storm cloud?

A crappy one, I think as I step beneath the spray of warm water and lather myself in her lightly vanilla-scented body wash. It doesn’t smell like her, but I’m used to catching the notes on her body and might trick myself into settling. Then I can visit the kitchen to grab something to eat.

Hopefully.

Asking one of the guys to bring me food because I’m having a meltdown would be embarrassing.

When I finish drying my body, I swear. I don’t have clean clothes up here.

A lump lodges itself in my throat as I wrap the towel around my waist and walk through the bedroom, hyping myself up to walk downstairs. My feet freeze at the door, muscles locking up as my instincts roar in protest.

“Caleb?”

Bellamy’s door is open across from me. He’s freshly showered, and I distractedly track a droplet of water as it falls from his hair and trails down his bare chest.

A smattering of dark-blonde hair sits between his pecs, matching the thin trail that disappears beneath his gray sweatpants. I nearly swallow my tongue when I see the outline of his cock in the tight material, arousal bursting through my body and making my dick twitch.

Darting my eyes to the ceiling, I clear my throat and ignore the blush making itself known on my cheeks.

“You good, dude?”

“Y-yes.” Shit, I shouldn’t lie to him. They have mentioned my self-inflicted bond sickness so often that he likely already realizes what’s going on. Hell, he may feel it through the bond we share with Skye. “No, I’m not,” I admit, clenching my fists at my sides.