Page 6 of Bliss & Her Idols (Pack Bonds Omegaverse #10)

CHAPTER THREE

Bliss’ Bedroom, Haven

“ S hit, shit, be okay.” I slam into my bedroom, banging shut the door behind me.

I wince, when the sound echoes around my tiny room with its high oak beams and floorboards.

My breathing is ragged. Panic swirls through me. I clutch my phone in white knuckles.

Why has Cricket broken our ritual pattern of talking online at midnight?

Is there an emergency? Is he in danger?

Have I put him there?

I scoot over the threadbare rug, dodging chocolate wrappers and dirty wine glasses.

My room is warm with a maple chest of drawers and wardrobe pushed against one wall and my bed on the other.

Moonlight shines through a domed window.

A lamp, which is shaped like a dragon, spills a fiery glow into the darkness.

I dive onto my bed.

My man…

Chase’s description of Cricket loops around my mind.

My sweet Cricket…

Also, the president of the fan club for the biggest rock star in the world, my source, and a hacker.

Cricket is sweet but he’s not harmless.

He likes to hide in the shadows online to mask his attacks.

I hurriedly burrow into my nest of emerald blankets and cushions. I drag them around myself as a comfort.

I tap on Cricket’s golden emblem.

Hey

Are you there?

Sorry, I know that I’m early. Can we talk, Bee?

Bee?

Please?

I swallow, as the messages sound increasingly desperate.

It’s never good news, when a guy says that they want to talk , right?

I take a deep breath, before I steel myself.

Then I type in the number that I’ve memorized.

Cricket doesn’t have his own phone.

Red flag.

He gave me a number, however, which I can use via his computer in an emergency. It’s also how he sends texts.

The strangeness around this sudden change in behavior has me antsy enough to count this as an emergency.

I hold my breath.

What will his voice sound like?

I’ve pieced together that Cricket is around Piper’s age, along with the fact that he has a love for both the deer and foxes around his home in the forest, that he hates laundry more than scrubbing floors (and that he appears to spend most days doing chores), and that he has two Alpha younger brothers who he has pretty much raised himself.

I don’t know if he’s realized he’s even let slip that much.

“Bee? Is that you?” A wary, shy voice asks.

My own breath catches.

“It’s me,” I reply. “Are you okay?”

A moment’s hesitation, which feels like an eternity and says more than words could.

My stomach drops.

“Don’t worry about me. I have news,” Cricket sounds breathless and excitable, talking too fast and stumbling over his words. “I’ve figured out some real evidence for you like I promised I would. I couldn’t wait any longer to share it with you. It’s too large a secret, you see, and—”

“Hey, wait.” Frustrated, I draw my knees up to my chest. “That’s good, Crick, but couldn’t it have waited until midnight? I was worried about you.”

More like having a fucking panic attack.

“Worried?” Cricket sounds shocked like that’s impossible.

“You’re my best friend. So, of course I am.”

“You’re my only friend,” Cricket replies almost too quietly for me to catch. I can practically hear him blushing through the phone. “I’m sorry. I can be bad like that. Thoughtless. I just didn’t know when I could sneak onto the computer again. And this is…”

“You’re not bad.” I pull my blankets around myself, frowning.

Another red flag. What is Cricket’s pack like that he calls himself bad ?

I understand because my brother struggles with other people having judged him unfairly his entire life.

Then something strikes me, and I straighten in shock. “ Sneak…? ”

Another red flag. I’m running out of them.

Is Cricket’s pack so Traditional that they don’t allow him to use a computer?

Is he being punished by having his computer privileges restricted?

“Of course,” Cricket replies, bewildered.

“The computer belongs to my younger brother. I wait until everyone else is asleep to go on it. I normally manage it without being caught and disciplined. I assumed that it was the same for you. I’m not getting you in trouble now, am I?

I’m sorry. I didn’t think this through. I’ll shut up… stop…I didn’t…”

“I’m not in danger,” I say quickly to stop Cricket from spiraling.

My throat is dry, however, at the thought that he’s in danger.

I fucking knew that he was. It’s wrecking me because the more that I’m talking to him, hearing his words in his sweet voice, the more that he’s feeling like my pack.

Mine to protect. “Where are your family now?”

“They’re all out on a job,” his voice drops to a whisper. “I’m alone.”

“You’re not bonded to any of them, right?”

Please say no…no…no.

This is the question that has been driving me mad for months.

It’s also the question that I’ve been holding myself back from asking.

Cricket and I have been dancing around what we’ve told each other.

I know that he loves to wake up with the fingers of dawn across his face, is self-taught and savant in his hacking skills because it sounds like music in his head, and his favorite Jin song (a song that the Beta recorded when he was twenty but was never officially released).

Yet the big questions like whether he’s bonded, what his pack name is, or what his dynamic even is, have been off-limits.

My own pack has its secrets. I understand.

But it’s time that I break through some of his walls. Things have become too serious.

This time, when I ask whether Cricket is bonded, he hesitates again.

Hyperalert, my skin tingles.

What the hell does his hesitation mean? Is he about to lie to me? Could he be promised to someone and it simply hasn’t happened yet?

“I’m not bonded,” Cricket carefully replies. There’s a darkness underlying that simple answer. Uncertain, I bite my lip. “I live with my parents and two Alpha brothers. I’m the only disappointment. Are you alone as well? I have something big to share with you. A secret.”

What the fuck is he going to tell me?

“It’s just me here, your best friend worrying that you’re about to tell me that your pack are serial killers…or politicians.”

When he laughs, it’s adorably sweet.

Then he chirps.

I blink.

Did Cricket truly just chirp?

Only feral Omegas normally chirp.

Is he isolated…traumatized enough…to be on the edge of becoming feral?

An Omega?

My breathing speeds up.

I stroke over the blanket, wishing that it was Cricket’s soft skin.

We’ve built our friendship for a year without needing to meet in real life and know each other’s dynamics. But now that I’m tantalizingly close to discovering the truth, I’m desperate to know whether he’s my male Omega.

“I’m sorry.” Cricket sounds embarrassed. “I sound stupid when I chirp.”

“You don’t.” I lick over my dry lips.

I wish that I could tell him just how much I loved his chirp. If he was here, it would have made me kiss down his neck.

I can’t resist purring quietly.

“Are you purring, Bee?” Cricket perks up.

I blush. “Talking to you always makes me happy.”

And your voice sounds even cuter than I’d hoped — dreamed.

Yet someone has taught Cricket that his chirping is stupid and something to be apologized for.

What has pushed Cricket to the limits of being feral?

Is this why he struggles with his social anxiety in real life?

Sadness washes over me, and my purring cuts off. “What’s the secret? Can you tell me, Crick, while your family are out?”

I’ve never been more pleased that I allowed my protective and paranoid friend Lionzio to trace Cricket’s IP address. It wasn’t easy, since Cricket is hiding it even more than I am. Lionzio has his own skills, however, from his time growing up in a mafia pack.

At least I know that Cricket lives deep in the forests on the outskirts of town. I’d be a wreck, if I didn’t even have a clue where he was.

“It’s about Jin,” Cricket declares excitedly because of course it is.

Cricket is the only person who I’ve found who is more obsessed with the Beta than I am.

I push myself to lie on my back.

I stare up at the ceiling and the mural that I painted between the beams: Jin from his first American tour.

I couldn’t afford the tickets back then for Jin’s concert but I watched it online. I smile, studying the painting.

I painted it in order to be able to lie at nights in my nest and imagine that Jin was with me.

Painting Jin is dressed in his signature blue silk three piece suit. His waistcoat glitters with silver dragons. He’s not wearing a tie, and his shirt is open at the neck. He looks seductive with cold eyes, hair like frost, and a cool smile.

“I saw your posts about the ethical treatment by fans of the Idols.” I scrunch up my nose. “Some of the forums were getting out of control. You’re a great mod.”

“I’m trying to protect Jin from both his haters and his fans alike,” Cricket replies, sounding suddenly serious and concerned.

“I hope that he doesn’t see what some are saying.

You know, their fan edits where they don’t focus on his singing and dancing but fetishize him like he’s a hypersexual doll.

Just this morning I took down a post that was nothing but a photo focused on Jin’s ass.

The Alpha defended his post by saying that it was no big deal because Jin is a Beta Idol .

It’s like all Betas are fair game. Their objectification is normalized.

Then there are actual anti-fans who dedicate themselves to following an Idol simply to hate on them.

Who does that? Shouldn’t you try and support the people who you admire and not waste your life bullying and shaming someone just because they’re not your favorite? ”

I raise my eyebrow.

My Cricket is smart.

In fact, I’m not certain that I understand all of those words.

Does anyone have a geek dictionary?

“Hmm,” I agree. Some ferals become mute. Clearly, Cricket has not reached that stage. My lips quirk into a smile. I love how talkative he is. “Tell me about this secret.”

“I’m pen pals with Jin!” Cricket chirps.