Page 94 of Claimed By the Band

Relief floods through me that I don't have to explain. Knox would know—he's done more research on omega biology than any alpha I've ever met. He's the one who reads the incredibly lengthy inserts on every suppressant I've been prescribed. Usually it annoys me how overprotective he gets, but right now I'm grateful for his knowledge.

Alex makes another pained sound, his hips shifting restlessly against my thigh. The movement sends a fresh wave of his scent through the car, and I hear Silas inhale sharply beside me. It's doing things to me, too, but I can't focus on that right now.

"Almost there," I promise, pressing my lips to Alex's temple. His skin burns against my mouth. "We'll take care of you soon. Give you everything you need."

He shudders at my words, a soft whine escaping his throat. The sound goes straight to my core, making something deep insideme ache with the need to comfort him. To protect him. To make him feel as safe and wanted and cherished as he is.

The SUV finally pulls into the bus lot, and I've never been so grateful to see our home on wheels. Knox is out of his seat before Damon even fully stops, yanking the door open so I can maneuver Alex out without jostling him too much.

"Got him?" Knox asks softly as I shift Alex in my arms. His woodsmoke scent wraps around us protectively, and I catch the way Alex unconsciously turns toward it in his heat-addled state.

"Yeah," I say, adjusting my grip. Alex feels even lighter than before, like his bones are hollow. How long has he been running? How long has he been denying this part of himself?

The questions can wait. Right now, he needs comfort and safety and pack. Everything else will sort itself out later.

"Home," Alex mumbles against my neck, his voice small and confused. Like he can't quite believe he's allowed to want this.

"That's right, kitten," I say softly as Knox holds the bus door for us. "You're home now."

His only response is to press closer, his scent spiking with another wave of heat. My own body responds instinctively, wanting to comfort and protect and claim.

I carry Alex through the narrow bus corridor, instinctively heading for the large bedroom the pack shares. The familiar space is filled with our combined scents—leather and bourbon, woodsmoke, earth and stone, cedar and cardamom, and honey. It feels right bringing him here, surrounding him with pack scents.

Gently, I lay him on the massive bed, noting how he immediately burrows into the blankets. His roses and rain scent mingles with ours in a way that feels so fucking right. Like it belongs there. Likehebelongs there.

"What do you need?" Dante asks from the doorway, his dark eyes full of concern. The other alphas are hanging back, not wanting to crowd us, but I see their worried expressions over his shoulder.

"Water," I say, smoothing Alex's sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead. "And then maybe some space, just for now. Until he's more settled."

Dante nods, disappearing and returning almost instantly with a cold water bottle. The others hover in the hallway, their protective alpha energy filling the space even as they maintain their distance.

"We'll be right outside if you need us," Dante murmurs, squeezing my shoulder before joining the others.

Once we're alone, I turn back to Alex. He seems a bit more coherent now, though his skin still burns with fever. The pack's combined scents appear to be helping ground him, which is a relief. They always do that for me, but the five of us are bonded. I want to get him out of those clothes that reek of artificial pheromones, help him settle properly.

"I'm sorry we can't get to a nesting store," I tell him softly. "But I've got plenty of supplies here you can use in the meantime."

His dark eyes meet mine, clearer than they've been since I found him in the stairwell. "Thank you," he whispers, and the vulnerability in his voice makes my heart ache.

"Here," I say gently, reaching for the buttons of his burgundy shirt. "Let me help you get more comfortable?—"

He jerks away from my touch, panic flashing across his features. The sudden movement sends another wave of his heat scent through the air, but it's tinged with fear now.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly, holding up my hands. Alex's fearful reaction is another knife in my gut, a reminder of just what he's been through. I think I'm going to have to make a career change from rock star to hitman after this, just to get through the list of people I need to kill for ever touching what's mine.

"No, it's not you, I—" he cuts off, wrapping his arms around himself protectively, and shudders like another wave of pain just hit him. "I... there's something else I need to tell you. Something I've been lying about, and it's going to change the way you see me."

My hands fall to my sides as I take in his defensive posture, the way he's curled in on himself like he's expecting a blow. "Whatever it is," I say softly, "it's okay. You can tell me anything."

He laughs, but it's a broken sound that makes my heart hurt. "You keep saying that, but..." He swallows hard, not meeting my eyes. "Being an omega isn't... it's not the only thing I've been hiding."

I wait patiently, giving him space to find the words. Every instinct screams to gather him close, to comfort and protect, but I force myself to stay still. To let him do this in his own time.

"I'm not..." he starts, then stops, taking a shaky breath. His fingers twist in the silk of his shirt, knuckles white with tension. "The person you think I am. Not just because I'm an omega,but..." Another deep breath. "I'm not...this." He gestures to himself, his hands still trembling.

Understanding dawns, and suddenly so many things click into place. The distance he painstakingly maintains. The way he flinches from certain touches. The oversized clothes. The secrets within secrets.

"Alex," I say gently, waiting until those beautiful eyes meet mine. "Are you trying to tell me you're trans? Because there's nothing wrong with that. And I would never think you were lying just because you didn't feel safe disclosing that yet."

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