Page 110 of Claimed By the Band

"Can you prove it was deliberately deleted?" I ask, leaning forward with interest.

She nods, turning her laptop so we can all see the screen. "I managed to access the security footage from that night. Look."

The grainy video shows Trakiss entering the lab, looking furtive. The timestamp confirms it was the middle of the night.

"So we've got him!" Asher says excitedly. "We can take this to the police, right?"

Jordan shakes her head. "Not yet. We need the physical logs first to prove what he was working on—those would be harder to erase. Labs that work with controlled substances have to maintain paper records, too."

"And those would be in the PheroMaster HQ," Damon says thoughtfully. "Where security's probably been increased since our little party crash."

"Exactly," Jordan confirms. "But if we could get those logs of what he was working on and it matches the samples my contact analyzed, that combined with the security footage and the missing data should be enough to pin Trakiss. And once he's in custody, I have a feeling he'll be willing to chat to save his own ass."

"Brilliant, as usual," Asher declares, beaming at Jordan with obvious pride.

I can't help but agree as I watch a pretty blush spread across Jordan's cheeks at the praise. Our new omega is certainly something special—brilliant, resourceful, and stronger than she gives herself credit for. But watching her work through Trakiss’s files also makes my protective instincts flare up.

We brought her in to help take down whoever attacked Asher, not realizing it could be connected to the cult she escaped. Now that we know the truth, the stakes feel even higher.

"We need to proceed with caution," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the rage building at the thought of what these people have done. "These aren't just anti-omega extremists we're dealing with. The Sons of Epsilon are organized, well-funded, and clearly dangerous."

To my surprise, Asher nods in agreement. I'm used to our omega charging headfirst into fights, consequences be damned. But there's something different in his eyes now—a fierce protectiveness that mirrors my own rather than the recklessness I'm used to on his own behalf.

"He's right," Asher says, growing somber. "And they're connected to Jordan's past."

"Now how does it feel?" Dante teases, clearly picking up on Asher's uncharacteristic caution.

"That's different," Asher huffs, but his hand finds Jordan's and squeezes gently.

"We have to do this," Jordan says firmly, though I catch the slight tremor in her voice. "As long as these people are out there, none of us are going to be safe to live our lives. And neither will any other omega."

"She makes a pretty compelling argument," Damon rumbles from his spot on the couch.

Asher groans dramatically. "Why do you have to be so logical about it?"

Jordan laughs, the sound lighter than I've ever heard it. "Someone has to balance out your dramatic tendencies."

"I am not dramatic," Asher protests, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"You literally rented out an entire department store just to take me shopping," Jordan points out dryly.

"That was a perfectly reasonable security measure!"

I watch their playful banter with warmth blooming in my chest. Seeing Jordan slowly come out of her shell, letting herself be part of our pack's easy affection and teasing, is deeply satisfying. But there's still a long way to go before she's truly safe.

"We need a game plan," Knox says, bringing us back on track. "And it sounds like it starts with getting back into PheroMaster. But Vince isn't just going to let us walk in and give a tour of his private facilities. Especially not if he figured out Asher was responsible for the disaster his party became."

"Well, I didn't think we'd have to goback," Asher huffs.

"I may have something that could work," Jordan says, pulling her laptop closer. Her fingers dance across the keyboard as she pulls up a series of files. "I found these in a hidden folder on Trakiss’s computer."

"Is that..." Dante leans forward, then immediately recoils. "Aw man, I need a bucket of brain bleach to get that image out of my head."

Curiosity gets the better of me and I move to look over Jordan's shoulder. I immediately wish I hadn't. The security photos show Vince in his office and the break room, on his knees in various states of undress, chained up as a female alpha in impressive heels steps on him and does... other things I'd rather not think about too deeply.

Make it two buckets.

"I overheard a couple talking about Vince's... proclivities that night," Jordan explains, mercifully minimizing the photos. "Apparently it's a well-known secret around PheroMaster. Seems the whole 'big strong alpha dominating omegas' thing is projection."

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