Page 56 of Ember

“That’s a tough one.” I held my fist against my chest and shook my head, my hair falling into my face as I mimicked the music video that had made the omega a star almost overnight. “‘Don’t look up and don’t look back, your pack’s going to find you, you know that.’ I played that for months.”

“Oh my god,” Ember gasped. “I’m an idiot.”

She rifled through her LP collection.

“You’re not an idiot. You’re one of the most brilliant, passionate people I know,” I replied. “What?”

“Don’t move!” She held her hand up, and I froze in place.

She held a cover up triumphantly, looking between me and the LP. I didn’t have to look at the front to know that it was a limited-edition run ofFrom Asheswe’d made on vinyl.

“You’re Burns,” she said, her voice going so high-pitched I was sure every dog in the area could hear her.

It felt inevitable. I’d expected to be grumpy or angry, like she’d found a dirty secret, but instead it was just calm acceptance. “How in the world did you figure it out? I wasn’t even singing.”

“The light.” She pointed at the dying sun, which was sending the room into shadows. “You look just like your album picture.”

She flipped it around, showing me the back photo of my face in profile, taken in the twilight.

“Rian, you’re Burns. Oh my god, how did I not see that?” Ember laughed again.

“I know,” I chuckled. “I was there.”

Ben looked pleased, amusement, light and airy, floated through our bond.

She looked between me and Ben. Her scent smelled so bright and happy it filled me up with joy too. “Is that how you two met?”

“Yes,” I said. “He totally seduced a young and impressionable?—”

Ben whacked my side. “Liar. He totally lured me with his hot young body and soulful sound.”

“Oh my god, you guys are so adorable together.” Ember giggled. “Why haven’t you put another album out? You know we’re all literally dying for another?”

Happiness deflated, sank like a stone. I swallowed hard. “I…uhh…”

My scent soured right away, and I fought the urge to leave the room and never, ever come back. What sort of answer could I give the sweet omega that wouldn’t sound stupid?

Because music was hard?

Because each song felt like it was ripping out of my soul, and I was bleeding too much to try?

“Sorry.” She sat down quickly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. I should have realized it was a sensitive subject.”

She sounded like she meant it too, like it would be okay if we never mentioned it again.

“Following upFrom Ashes, the more time passes…the harder it feels.” I shook my head, and Ben took my hand. “I’m too much in my own head, basically.”

“That makes sense,” she said. “Our brains can be total assholes.”

I relaxed, feeling a little bit better.

“So playing guitar in the studio is nice,” she said. “You get to make music.”

“I do,” I said. “And I still try to, uhh, write songs. Now and again.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Ember shook her head. “I love singing, but between the lyrics and the actual music part I’d be lost.”

“It sort of pops into my head,” I said slowly. Oddly, it didn’t hurt to talk about this part. “I get a snatch of lyrics or a melody, and I write it down, until the next part comes to me.”

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