Page 24 of Bonding the Band

“I didn’t know!” he cried.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Well, you, uh…you need to look into that. I’ll prescribe something to help with the nausea, but if this is because you’ve got a pregnant omega, it won’t respond well to treatment. You need to find her as soon as possible because these symptoms won’t be going away anytime soon, and she’ll be feeling a lot worse than you.”

“Finding her will fix it?” Beckett asked.

“Theoretically, yes. Most of the symptoms should be alleviated by proximity. You’ll notice a difference immediately once you get close to her, but if he’s this bad, I’m worried abouther. Do everything you can to reunite them.” He passed a prescription form to Hendrix. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“This has beenveryhelpful,” Phin insisted. “At least we have a direction now. Thanks for coming.”

Dr. Corbett nodded, offering a small smile before quickly packing up his things and darting out of the tour bus, like he could sense it was about to descend into chaos and wanted out.

“I don’t have a bite mark on me!” Hendrix ripped off his shirt and tried to angle his head to see his neck, which was both impossible and hilarious to watch. “I would have a bond bite if I was bonded.”

I looked at my pack mate, my eyebrows raised. A bonding mark could technically be anywhere on his body—the throat was just the most common.

“Well, there’s only one way to be sure.” I hopped to my feet, facing him with a grin. “Time to get naked.”

Hendrix’s face fell. “What? No…”

“Come on. You’re choosingnowto be shy? We’ve seen your cock more times than we can count.”

“Do it, Hen,” Beckett commanded.

“Do it, or I’ll do it for you,” I declared, grabbing the scissors out of the knife block in the minuscule bus kitchen we never used. “How much were those fancy designer jeans?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

Hendrix paled. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. I don’t trust you near my junk with those things.”

A smart move on his part, really. While I might have good hand-eye coordination with a guitar, I made no guarantees when it came to scissors.

Undoing his belt, he avoided eye contact with us as he pushed the jeans down.

Naturally, the fucker went commando, so I was gifted with the sight of his soft cock.

“Look! No bite marks.” Hendrix threw his arms out and spun in a circle, like this was some fucked-up fashion show.

“Uh…Hen?” It was Phin who spoke from behind Hendrix.

“What?”

“You’ve got a bite mark on your ass,” Phin declared at the same moment Hendrix turned to face him, presenting me with a clear view of his butt and the small, defined bite mark on the bottom half of his left cheek.

“We’ve got an omega!” I clapped my hands, bouncing on the spot.

Hendrix let out a strangled, panicked sound, dashing to the far wall where there was a small mirror, tripping over the jeans around his ankles in his haste to see the bite mark.

“Who?” Beckett asked as Hendrix twisted and turned to get a good look.

“I don’tknow,” he admitted.

“You haven’t fucked anyone since Seattle,” Phin pointed out.

“Oh, yeah!” I cried. “You had that blonde in your bed, the one who fell out of the bed when I came to get you…but she was a beta, not an omega.”

Hendrix looked into the distance, his eyes losing focus. “The rose and lilac…That wasn’t a beta scent.” He dragged his hands over his face. “Come on, brain. Fuckingwork. Seattle. Omega.”

“I remember the scent,” Phin added. “Almost fought you for the bed that night so I could roll around in it.”

“Okay, that’s progress,” Beckett muttered. “Whiterose and lilac. I remember it too. Shit. Are we going to have to do a weird Cinderella thing to find this omega?”

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