Page 15 of Claimed By the Band

The blond alpha's grin widens. "We're trying to settle something. That omega singer, the one from Wild Honey. You think he's hot or not?"

For a moment, I'm too stunned to speak. Of all the inane, objectifying bullshit...

"Yeah," one of the other alphas chimes in. "Like, objectively speaking. As a beta, you can be impartial, right?"

I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I'm supposed to be a male beta. That I can't react the way I want to with a swift kick to their collective nuts.

Instead, I fix them with my coldest stare. "I think," I say slowly, "that reducing a person to their physical appearance, regardless of their secondary gender, is fucking pathetic. And the fact that you're sitting here debating the 'hotness' of someone who was just the victim of a hate crime speaks volumes about your character. Or lack thereof."

The alphas gape at me, clearly not expecting that response. Good. Let them chew on that for a while.

I turn on my heel, stalking back to my desk. As I sit down, I hear one of them mutter, "Jeez, what crawled up his ass and died?"

I ignore them, pulling my headphones on and diving back into my work. If this is how alphas treat me when they think I'm amale beta, I'm more convinced than ever that I'm making the right choice by staying hidden.

The security footage yields little in the way of new information. Whoever orchestrated this attack covered their tracks well. No fingerprints or DNA evidence left behind. The assailants who breached security wore full-face masks and nondescript clothing.

It's frustrating, but not unexpected. These clearly aren't amateurs we're dealing with.

My phone buzzes, a message from an unknown number flashing across the screen.

UNKNOWN: Any updates?

Before I can ask who it is, another message pops up.

UNKNOWN: It's Asher, by the way.

I roll my eyes. Somehow, I wasn't expecting the rock god to use smiley face emojis. Especially notthatone. I add him to my contacts before sending him a reply.

Working on it. Reviewing security footage now.

His response is almost immediate.

ASHER: Anything I can do to help?

No.

I turn back to my laptop, but my phone buzzes again.

ASHER: You sure? I could send over more files if you need them.

This guy doesn't give up. I tap out a reply, trying to keep my irritation in check.

I have everything I need for now. I'll let you know if that changes.

Another buzz.

ASHER: Okay. Just eager to get this solved, you know?

I hesitate, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wants to shut this down, to maintain the professional distance I've cultivated over years of doing this work.

But another part... well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about the omega who's captured the world's attention.

Are you really in that much of a hurry to get back on tour? Your bassist just got out of the hospital.

There's a longer pause this time before Asher responds.

ASHER: The doctor cleared Knox to go back next week, actually. But I'm not rushing it. I'm more anxious to find the fuckers who hurt him. Who attacked us.

---