Page 12 of Claimed By the Band

5

ASHER

"How do I look?"

I spin in front of the full-length mirror, scrutinizing my reflection. The black skinny jeans hug my legs in all the right places, and the sheer purple top drapes artfully over my lean torso. I've left it unbuttoned halfway down my chest, a teasing glimpse of skin and abs on display. My hair falls in perfect golden waves, courtesy of an hour with my stylist this morning.

It's probably overkill for a video call, but I can't help myself. Looking good is my armor, my way of feeling in control when everything else is spiraling into chaos.

The rest of the pack is scattered around the living room of our shared mansion, a sprawling estate that serves as our home base when we're not on tour. Knox is propped up on the oversized leather couch, his face still a patchwork of fading bruises. Guilttwists in my gut at the sight of him. He took the worst of it, protecting me.

Always protecting me.

"You look hot, babe," Dante calls from his perch on the arm of the couch. "As always."

Knox snorts, wincing slightly at the movement. "Yeah, you're a fuckin' dream. But why bother? This Echo creep isn't even gonna show his face, remember?"

I roll my eyes. "It's not about him seeing me. It's about me feeling confident."

"You could wear a potato sack and still ooze confidence," Silas chimes in, not looking up from his laptop where he's setting up the call. "You're basically a narcissist without the psycho traits."

"Maybe," I concede. “But I'd rather not test that theory."

The truth is, I'm more nervous than I want to let on. This call... it feels like our last hope. If Echo won't help us, I'm not sure we'll be able to continue the tour. The thought of canceling, of letting down our fans and giving those bastards who attacked us exactly what they want... it makes me sick to my stomach.

But more than that, I can't shake the feeling that this is bigger than just us. If we back down now, if we let fear win, what message does that send to other omegas? That we should hide, that we should be ashamed of who we are?

Fuck that.

"You're overthinking again," Damon says softly, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. I lean back into his solid warmth, letting out a shaky breath.

"Can you blame me?" I murmur.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "No. But we've got this, Ash. Whatever happens."

I nod, drawing strength from his unwavering belief in me. In us.

"So," Damon drawls, a hint of mischief in his voice, "anyone else think it's kind of exciting that we're hiring some mysterious vigilante hacker?"

Dante grins. "Fuck yeah. It's like something out of a movie."

I can't help but laugh. "I have to admit, I'm intrigued. The whole anonymous crusader thing is pretty badass."

Silas looks up from his computer, eyebrow raised. "Should we be jealous?"

"Maybe," I tease, winking at him. "You know how I love a man of mystery."

The alphas exchange a look, a mix of amusement and possessiveness that sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. Even after all this time, it still amazes me how they can go from playful to intense in the blink of an eye.

Before things can escalate, Silas clears his throat. "Alright, lover boys. Show time. We're getting the call."

Just like that, the atmosphere in the room shifts. The playful banter evaporates, replaced by a tension I can tell we all feel. We gather around the massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, Silas tapping away at his laptop to cast the call to the larger screen.

The screen flickers to life, but instead of a face, we're greeted by a glowing logo. It's an 'E' made entirely of binary code, pulsingsoftly against a black background. I have to admit, it's pretty fucking cool.

"Good evening," a distorted voice crackles through the speakers. "I'm Echo."

Silas snorts. "Nice voice changer. Very theatrical."

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