Page 48 of Claimed By the Band

As Silas navigates through the dark streets, I find my thoughts drifting back to Echo. The way he trembled under Damon's touch, how quickly he fled once we were outside.

I shouldn't care this much. Echo's made it crystal clear he wants to keep his distance, maintain that professional barrier between us. And why shouldn't he? We're basically strangers, thrown together by circumstance and desperation.

But I do care. Maybe more than I should.

"You're thinking too loud," Knox mutters from the back seat. "I can practically hear the gears grinding from here."

I flip him off in the rearview mirror, earning a low chuckle. "Just processing," I say. "It's been a weird night."

"That's putting it mildly," Dante pipes up. "Did you see Vince's face when Silas offered to buy everything? I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head."

The conversation shifts to safer topics. Making fun of Vince's tacky decor, speculating about what kind of dirt we might find in those samples. But my mind keeps circling back to Echo.

Why do I feel this inexplicable pull toward him, this need to understand his mysterious persona?

"Hey," Damon murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. "You okay?"

I turn to him, drinking in the familiar planes of his face, the warmth in his dark eyes. My pack. My alphas. They're everything I've ever wanted, everything I need.

So why does it feel like something's missing?

"Just tired," I say, forcing a smile. "And smelly."

He laughs, pulling me closer to press a kiss to my temple. "You still smell like honey to me. Always do."

The words warm something in my chest, but there's still that nagging feeling. That sense that we're missing something important about Echo. About tonight.

But maybe that's just wishful thinking. Maybe I'm seeing mysteries where there are none, simply because I want there to be more to Echo than meets the eye. Because I want an excuse to keep him close, to unravel his secrets one by one.

The city lights blur past the window as we make our way home, and I let myself sink into Damon's warmth. Whatever's going on with Echo, it'll have to wait.

For now, I just want to wash away this night and curl up with my pack. Try to forget the way Echo looked at me before he fled.

Try to forget how much I wanted to chase after him.

18

JORDAN

My hair is dripping wet from a much needed shower as I step out of the bathroom. I'm still a bit shaky but finally feeling like myself again. The past five days have been a blur of fever dreams and primal need, but at least it's over.

Going off suppressants is always hell, but it had to be done. The military-grade stuff I use isn't meant for long-term use, and after that disaster at PheroMaster, I couldn't risk another malfunction.

I'm mostly just pissed at myself for what—or rather,who—I had to think about to get through my heat. Fantasizing about another omega's alphas is not exactly something I'm proud of. And I'm not sure if the fact that Asher starred in most of those fantasies alongside them makes it better or worse.

But it's not like any of them are ever going to know. It's not like I even have to see them again. Not if Maria sends back theresults and I get my concrete evidence to link PheroMaster to the extremist group who attacked Wild Honey.

Case done and dusted. No loose ends.

Just the way I want it.

So why does the thought of never seeing them again create an empty pit in my stomach that has nothing to do with the fact that I've been subsisting on coffee and whatever junk food was left over in my pantry for the better part of the last week?

My loft is exactly as I left it—sparse, functional, forgettable. Just the way I like it. The morning sun streams through the industrial windows, illuminating the bare concrete floors and white walls. No photos, no art, no personal touches. Nothing that can't be abandoned at a moment's notice.

Well, almost nothing.

My eyes drift to the walk-in closet I converted into a nest. It's the one concession I've made to my omega nature, though I'd rather die than admit it to anyone. The space is filled with soft blankets and pillows, carefully arranged and scented with my natural roses and rain smell. During my heat, it was the only thing that kept me sane.

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