Page 55 of Claimed By the Band

"You came!" Asher exclaims, rushing toward me. He's wearing tattered jeans and an oversized jean jacket covered in patches and studs that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe, his golden hair catching the setting sun like a halo.

"I said I would," I manage, trying to ignore how my pulse quickens at the sight of him.

Of all of them, really.

Damon looks as solid and steady as ever in his dark henley, while Dante's grinning like we're all sharing some private joke.

"We know," Damon rumbles, his spicy, woodsy scent wrapping around me like a warm blanket. "But after last time..."

He trails off, but the meaning is clear. After I disappeared for five days without a word, they weren't sure they could trust me to show up.

Guilt twists in my stomach. "About that?—"

"Water under the bridge!" Asher declares, stepping forward like he's about to hug me before catching himself. I'm pathetically grateful for his restraint. I'm not sure I could handle being thatclose to him right now, not with my system still adjusting to the suppressants and so recently out of heat.

Because apparently, somehow this omega manages to screw with my head like no alpha has for the better part of an entire decade.

"Nice sign," I say instead, nodding at the glittery monstrosity.

Dante laughs. "Ash insisted. He wanted to go full limo driver with a suit and everything, but we talked him down."

"You guys are no fun," Asher pouts, but his eyes are glinting with mischief.

"Someone has to be the voice of reason," Damon says dryly.

I stand there awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with all this... warmth. This easy rapport that they seem determined to include me in, despite everything.

"Come on," Asher says, gesturing toward a waiting SUV on the curb outside. "Let's get you settled at the hotel. Then you can tell us what was so important it required a cross-country flight."

Right. The case. That's why I'm here. Not because of the way Asher's smile makes my chest tight, or how Damon's presence makes me feel inexplicably safe, or how Dante's gentle teasing feels like something I could get used to.

I follow them to the car, reminding myself that this is just business. Nothing more.

I just wish my traitorous heart would believe it.

21

DANTE

Iunlock the door to the penthouse suite, stepping aside to let our mysterious guest enter first. The place is ridiculous, even by our standards, all gleaming marble and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. But Asher insisted we needed the space, and that Echo would be more comfortable here than cramped on the tour bus. Considering the beta acts like a wild rabbit about to bolt at the slightest provocation, I'm inclined to agree.

I catch myself watching Echo's reaction as he takes in the opulent surroundings. His dark eyes widen slightly, but otherwise his face remains carefully neutral. Even his scent gives nothing away, just that clean, crisp smell that's oddly compelling for a beta.

"Make yourself at home," Asher says, practically overflowing with excitement as he helps Echo out of his jacket. "Knox and Silas are in a meeting with our manager, Sam, but they'll join us later."

I notice how carefully Asher handles the jacket, like it's something precious. How his fingers linger just a fraction too long before hanging it up. He's trying so hard to reign in his natural exuberance, to not overwhelm Echo with his usual intensity. It would be funny if it wasn't so endearing.

And telling.

The whole drive here, I caught him stealing glances at Echo in the rearview mirror, violet eyes soft with something that goes way beyond professional interest. I've seen Asher attracted to plenty of omegas before. Hell, I've encouraged it more often than not. But this? This is different.

Echo perches on the edge of an oversized armchair like he's ready to bolt at any second. His posture is tense, shoulders rigid, eyes constantly scanning the room. He reminds me of rescue animals I've worked with, always looking for threats, never quite believing they're safe.

"Can I get you anything?" Damon asks, already heading for the mini bar. "Water? Something stronger?"

"Just water, thanks," Echo replies, and I notice he hasn't fully relaxed his grip on his messenger bag since we picked him up from the airport.

Asher flops onto the couch across from Echo, somehow managing to make the casual sprawl look graceful. "So," he says, trying and failing to hide his eagerness, "what did you find out?"

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