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I knocked and opened the door slowly, announcing, “Hey, Ember? It’s Rian and Ben.”

I stepped inside, listening for Ember’s voice. The door opened right into a spacious living room that smelled heavily of lemon, almonds, and some tropical citrus fruit I couldn’t place. It smelled like heaven, and I relaxed immediately.

I kept walking and stepped to the side so I wouldn’t trip up Ben. My alpha came inside and shut the door behind us.

It took me a minute to register the music I was hearing, but then I froze.

“Is that…” Ben trailed off.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Uhhh, she’s in the shower.”

And singing.

Goosebumps rose all along my arms and I couldn’t move. My entire body flushed, like the first time I’d heard “Stand by Me” or “Amazing Grace.”

Ember’s voice hit me over the head and took me under. I was drowning and I didn’t want to surface.

All I could think of was, I didn’t know she could sing. She never said she could sing. I wouldn’t have been so shocked.

Her voice was husky and sweet, with clear diction. She’d obviously had years of practice. Ember went out of range a few times, especially when she tried to hit the same notes as Verona, a famous soprano, but otherwise she was perfect.

I could tell by her breath sounds that she was singing too much with her throat; the sound felt tight when she wasn’t pausing for breath. But an hour or so of voice coaching tweaks and she could have had a comfortable career as the next pop star.

Her voice reverberated, and I shivered again. I found the couch, tapping Ben’s arm so he knew I was moving.

We sat and listened as she moved through Verona, Moon and Magnolias, and then Evermore West. Tears stung my eyes; the power of the song grabbed me and refused to let go.

And then the opening notes started of “Graveyard Blues,” my own song, and I almost got up to beg her to stop. I wasn’t strong enough. Ben gripped my forearm, and I made a small sound, a plea and a prayer.

Her alto matched my husky baritone perfectly. She sang with a mournful plea, like she knew exactly the despair I’d felt when I wrote it.

I could still remember penning the lines “bound to you like the earth to the moon, caught in the tides where the shadows bloom.” I’d sat in my dark room at two in the morning, as heat cramps ripped through me. I’d thought there was nothing left forme, nothing but one foot in the grave, but oh, the roses smelled so sweet.

Her voice held the long, low note, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed. I needed to make more music so I could hear the notes twist out of her mouth. My pain was now her pain, and I wondered what happened to her, to know the depths of that pain so intimately.

The song ended, and I forgot to breathe.

The shower stopped, and I realized we probably should have told her we were here.

“Hey, Ember?” Ben sounded shaky. “We got here early, and you said to let ourselves in. So don’t come out here naked unless, you know, you want to.”

“Ben?” She sounded confused. She poked her head around the corner, her wet hair hanging over a bare shoulder.

“Yes, hi.” Ben paused. “You have an incredible singing voice.”

Ember blushed. “I, uhhh, thank you. I’m going get dressed.”

She left the room in a cloud of sweet lemon. She returned a couple of minutes later, and I still felt like my brains were scrambled.

She had a pair of soft cotton pants on and an Evermore West T-shirt that hung off one shoulder, exposing creamy bare skin.

I was toast.

It didn’t matter whether or not I liked West and Alejandro. She had to be ours. Mine.So don’t ruin this for me, I told my omega instincts.

“I didn’t know you were here.” She cleared her throat.

“We got here early so…” I trailed off. “You struggled with a couple of notes,” I started again, trying to help. “But overall…”