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How dramatic is that, I thought. I hadn’t written a new song in a year and the snatches of lyrics that did come were more and more melodramatic.

But Ember reminded me that other bands did melodrama well, like Evermore West. The indie folk rock band wrote lyrics about forces changing you, and feeling it in his bones, but it was delivered so earnestly it worked.

I wondered if Evermore West felt self-conscious writing lyrics like that, or they knew it was okay to be a melodramatic bard the Internet had likened to being an Unseelie Fae.

Maybe I could ask Ben for a face-to-face with the lead singer, Patrick.

I wished again that I could write music and get out of my own head. When I was a teenager, I’d sit alone in my crappy room and write songs. All sorts of songs: happy ballads, rock with heavy guitar rhythms, and dark melodies filled with pain. It was as essential as breathing, and I didn’t question myself like I did now.

I was technically a better musician. I’d been playing guitar and writing songs since I was ten. My parents praised me for being a prodigy and talked about how talented I was. How far I would go.

They still asked me if I was making music for other people. And when would I produce my own album? They even made not-so-subtle hints that it was no good being bonded to a music producer if I never made my own music.

I hadn’t told them about making my own album at the time and now I was glad. I didn’t want them to know I was a washed-up has-been after only one album.

Sometimes I wished I could go back to being barely eighteen, writing songs as a way out of my own mind. My depression and sorrow, my pain and confusion. The bright, almost manic love I’d felt when I met Ben. Music was my way through the woods, but now I was lost.

Music abandoned me or I abandoned it. I understood the artists now when they said each song, each poem, each story killed them a little, a slow death. Writing was easy; you just opened up a vein and bled on the page.

I lifted my face to the sun and tried to ground myself in the moment. It was okay if I never wrote another song again. I had Ben. I was able to make music. Wanting what I used to have was hubris.

It was reaching for the sun and complaining when the flames burned my fingers.

I looked at Ember’s flame-red hair, and knew she would burn me too. Or lead me astray in the woods, like a will-o’-the-wisp. She wouldn’t mean to, but she wouldn’t put up with my bullshit for long.

“You two are welcome on the grounds whenever you want.” Ember led us up a path. “Cosmic Bonds isn’t just about dating. You can take yoga, and there’s art classes, cooking, a sauna, and a meditation circle.”

It was daylight, bright and sunny, but I could see in my mind’s eye it getting dark, the chill in the air, the bright pull of Ember’s scent enveloping me until I was helpless but to follow.

Judging from Ben’s intense look, and the pure longing I felt in the bond, he was thinking the same thing.

“It wouldn’t be creepy if I wandered around?” With my guitar, I added mentally. The woods at the top of the hill were open, letting sunlight in, the pathway well worn. I scanned the ground for roots or something Ben might trip over and saw Ember doing the same.

“Not at all. We have a lot of artists who come here just for the atmosphere.”

She smiled, and I closed the distance between us. Would it be so bad to get lost in the woods with this omega? She could lead me out, help me find my way through.

The breeze brought her scent to me, and the soft note of honey hit me. West, her omega. I stepped back, cataloguing the confusion on her face as I turned away.

Another omega. It was too much. Two omegas would be a stretch but three?

I’d have to hope he tolerated me, and I wasn’t even thinking about bonds with Ember. I was driving on pure instinct and need to taste her scent on my tongue.

We were doomed to fail.

We finished our tour, and I asked about our next candidate. If Ben and Ember both seemed disappointed, that was too bad.

It was better this way. I was already lost in the woods. It was better not to drag everyone else in there with me.

Chapter 13

Ember

The next few days, I felt unsettled. I rearranged the nest twice. Luckily, West didn’t seem to mind, just helped me move all the pillows that were on the left side to the right side, rotate out the ten throw blankets, and resettle my massive Squishmallow collection. I made him fuck me over and over, my skin crawling with need.

The software stayed buggy no matter what Terran or I did. West helped reprogram some lines, and it seemed fine until, a few hours later, it messed up again.

My office smelled like the alpha and omega pair I couldn’t get out of my head. I’d taken to eating my lunch on the couch, sitting where the two of them had been. I felt pathetic, but I couldn’t stop myself either.