Page 64 of Claimed By the Band

For a split second, his eyes meet mine and I freeze like a fawn in a hunter's sights. But his eyes don't linger, not even for a second, as they continue scanning past me like I'm not even there.

He doesn't recognize me.

It worked. All the work I've done to hide myself, to blend into the crowd, to erase every last trace of the girl—the omega—I used to be…

It worked.

The relief doesn't last long until I realize he's disappearing through the lobby doors.

Every shred of instinct within me screams for me to run. To put as much distance between myself and him as possible, even if it means leaving Wild Honey and everything else in the new life I've built behind, but I don't.

I've caved in to fear enough times.

Instead, I find myself following him. Tracking him.

The night air hits me like a slap as I push through the doors. The crowd outside is thick with fans hoping for a glimpse of the band after the show, pressing against the security barriers. James, if it really is him, weaves through them with practiced ease.

I trail him at a safe distance, grateful for once that I'm small enough to slip through gaps in the crowd unnoticed. The suppressants feel weaker suddenly, like a protective shell that might crack and spill all my secrets into the night air at any moment.

But I have to know. Have to be sure.

He turns a corner, and when I follow, he's gone. Vanished into the sea of bodies like smoke. I spin in place, scanning faces desperately, but there's no sign of him.

Maybe I imagined it. Maybe the stress and the suppressants and my growing feelings for Asher are finally making me crack.

I rush back inside, flashing my VIP pass at the guards with trembling hands. The fresh wave of post-show energy hits me like a wall as I round the corner.

The pack is already backstage celebrating, champagne flowing freely as crew members and various hangers-on mill about. Asher's head snaps up the moment I enter, his eyes lighting up when they land on me.

"Alex, there you are!" he exclaims, but his smile immediately falters. I must look as shaken as I feel because his expression shifts from joy to concern in an instant.

He's at my side before I can even think of what to say, his hands landing gently on my shoulders. The touch should make me flinch—any touch usually does—but right now it feels like the only thing keeping me grounded. Anchored in reality.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, searching my face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

A bitter laugh escapes my throat before I can stop it. "Something like that," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

The others are gathering around us now, their faces etched with varying degrees of worry. Even Knox looks concerned, which would be touching if I wasn't fighting the urge to scream.

"We need to leave," I say, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Now."

Asher exchanges looks with his alphas, some silent communication passing between them. "Alright," he says,squeezing my shoulders gently. No arguments, no questions, just acceptance. "Let's get you back to the hotel?—"

"No," I cut him off, probably too sharply based on how they all tense. "Not the hotel. The bus. You need to get on the bus and leave town. Right now."

"What's going on?" Knox demands, stepping closer. His woodsmoke scent spikes with protective alpha energy. "Do we need to get the police involved?"

I shake my head, then stop, then start again. "I don't... maybe? I don't know." My hands are shaking so badly I have to clench them into fists. "I saw... IthoughtI saw..."

But I can't finish the sentence. How do I explain that I might have seen my brother, the enforcer from a cult I escaped nearly a decade ago? That I might be having a complete breakdown and imagining threats that don't exist? That either way, I'm terrified of what it means?

"Hey," Asher says softly, one hand moving to cup my cheek. The gesture is so tender it makes my chest ache. "Talk to us. Whatever it is, we can help."

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe that these strong, beautiful people could protect me from my past. But I know better. If James really is here, if he somehow found me...

No. He didn't recognize me. He looked right through me.

But he's here. At their concert. That can't be a coincidence.

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