Page 26 of Claimed By the Band

There.

Short, simple, to the point.

No room for misinterpretation.

Asher's response is almost immediate.

ASHER: Boooo, you're no fun But okay, Mr. Mysterious. Have it your way. Can't wait to finally meet!

I wince, guilt twisting in my gut. He has no idea how wrong he is. How much of a lie this whole thing is.

But it's necessary. It has to be.

The plane starts its descent, the change in pressure making my ears pop. I close my eyes again, trying to center myself. To remember why I'm doing this.

The attack on Wild Honey was bad enough. But now with the threat against Rita Dawson? This is escalating, fast. Whatever group is behind these attacks, they're not going to stop. And if I don't do something, more omegas are going to get hurt.

Or worse.

I can't let that happen. Not when I have the skills to stop it. Even if it means putting myself at risk.

The wheels touch down with a jolt, startling me out of my thoughts. All around me, people start gathering their belongings, eager to deplane. I stay put, letting the aisle clear before I make my move. Less chance of accidental touching that way.

As I file off the plane, my phone buzzes again. Another message from Asher.

ASHER: Just realized I don't even know what you look like! How will we recognize you?

I'll find you.

I turn my phone off and put it in my pocket as I make my way through security. I still have some time before the meeting and the bar I chose isn't far from the airport, so I grab some stale coffee and a cinnamon roll before heading out.

My stomach is twisted up in so many knots the sweet bread just makes me nauseous, so I dump it in a trash can on my way out and head to my rental.

The entire drive, I'm still warring with myself over whether I want to go through with this. But Dark Asher is right about one thing.

I'm already hiding my true self. My identity. Other omegas like him and Rita are putting themselves out there every night. Putting themselves in danger.

For nearly a decade, I've been hunting the alphas who prey on us. The pieces of shit who think omegas just living our lives onour own terms are taking something away from them, and are willing to make us pay the price for that perceived crime.

People like the so-called family I ran from when I was only sixteen years old. People who would love to put me and every other omega back in the hellish prison I barely escaped.

If I don't take a stand now, what's the point of everything I've been doing? Best case scenario, it's a high-stakes game of whack-a-mole. One group gets shut down, another pops up. And the people in charge aren't doing shit, whether it's due to incompetence or the fact that secretly, it dovetails with their own agenda.

Maybe a little of both.

This is finally my chance to make a difference. To take on a high-profile case and make sure the consequences for Asher's attackers are so steep that anyone else will think twice before perpetuating a stunt like that again. At the very least, they'll know they won't be able to stay anonymous.

I've been in hiding for so long, protecting myself at every turn, in survival mode for so long that I forgot the whole reason I ran in the first place: Freedom.

Some things are worth taking a risk for. Fighting for.

And tonight, the real battle begins.

11

ASHER

The dive bar reeks of stale beer and the red polyurethane booth beneath me is cracked and stickier than I would like. Which is not at all, but if Echo is actually going to show up in the flesh, I'll wait here all day if I have to.

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