Page 6 of Claimed By the Band

Part of me wants to agree, to feed into that righteous anger. But the more rational part knows this isn't the time or place. We need to be smart about this, strategic.

This isn't just a few jeers from pissbabies in the crowd, or bitchy headlines. It's life and death.

An idea starts to form in the back of my mind. It's risky, potentially illegal, but... desperate times and all that.

"What if," I start slowly, drawing their attention. "What if we reached out to someone... unconventional? In addition to the added security, I mean."

Asher's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. "I have a friend from college. He's into computers."

"We need muscle, not an IT guy," Asher scoffs.

I can't help but grin. "That's a very euphemistic way of saying he's into some seriously shady shit. Back in college, a group of alpha assholes made a list of omegas on campus. Their schedules, their names, their pictures, and all kinds of other creepy personal information. The school administration wouldn't do jack shit about it, either."

Asher's nose wrinkles in disgust. "Good to see nothing has changed."

"Yeah, well, Adam decided to take it into his own hands," I continue. "He hacked into the school database and published everything on those assholes from their grades to their academic records and their parents' work numbers. The other list was down in an hour."

Silas snorts. "Not bad."

"He might be able to help us figure out who's behind the attacks if the police can't," I say with a shrug. "Or won't."

Silas frowns, clearly not fully on board with the idea. But Asher... Asher's eyes light up with interest and a hint of that mischievous spark I love so much.

"You really think he could help?" he asks, a note of hope in his voice. "This is a little bigger than a school database."

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Worth a shot, right? Can't hurt to reach out, at least."

Silas opens his mouth, probably to list all the ways it absolutely could hurt, but Asher cuts him off.

"Do it," he says firmly. "Reach out to your friend. We need all the help we can get."

I nod, already pulling out my phone. As I start composing a message, I can't help but wonder what the hell I'm getting us into. But one look at Asher's determined face, at the bruises marring his honeyed skin, and I know it doesn't matter.

We're pack. Family.

And we'll do whatever it takes to protect our own.

Even if it means breaking a few laws along the way.

3

SILAS

The drive to this godforsaken diner feels endless. I white-knuckle the steering wheel, jaw clenched so tight I can hear my teeth grinding. Asher sprawls in the passenger seat, his long legs stretched out, tapping away at his phone. In the rearview mirror, I catch glimpses of Dante in the backseat, his dark eyes distant, lost in thought. The others stayed home, since Dante said his old friend can be a bit flighty.

Two fucking hours. That's how far this paranoid asshole insisted we drive to meet him. Some greasy spoon in the middle of nowhere, like we're in a bad spy movie. I don't like it. Don't like any of this, if I'm being honest.

But Asher was adamant. And what Asher wants, Asher gets. It's been that way since the day I met him, since that first electric moment when our eyes locked across a crowded room and something inside me just... clicked. Like finding a piece of myself I didn't even know was missing.

Each of us has our own version of the story to tell. The day we realized Asher wasn't just the most captivating omega we'd ever laid eyes on—he was our scent match.

I shake off the memory. Now's not the time for sentimentality. We've got bigger problems.

"You sure about this guy, Dante?" I ask, glancing in the mirror again. "Seems a little... off."

Dante shrugs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Adam's always been a bit eccentric. But he's good people. And he knows his shit when it comes to tech."

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