Page 62 of Claimed By the Band

JORDAN

Ipress myself further into the shadows backstage, trying to become one with the wall as Asher launches into another verse. His voice soars over the pre-show chaos, pure and powerful and doing things to my insides that no amount of suppressants can fully control.

He's magnetic up there, all fluid grace and raw sexuality as he works the empty venue like it's packed with thousands. The sheer fabric of his top catches the stage lights, offering teasing glimpses of toned abs and those glinting nipple piercings that I absolutely should not be staring at.

I can feel Silas and Dante watching me watch him. They're trying to be subtle about it, but subtlety isn't exactly an alpha strong suit. Every time I sneak a glance at Asher, I catch them exchanging knowing looks.

"He's something else, isn't he?" Dante says softly, coming to lean against the wall beside me.

I grunt noncommittally, not trusting my voice. My skin feels too tight, too hot, and I'm hyperaware of every alpha scent around me. The suppressants are working—they have to be—but something about being here, surrounded by the pack's combined pheromones, is making my head spin.

"It's okay to look, you know," he continues, amusement coloring his tone. "We don't mind."

I risk a glance at him, searching for any hint of possessiveness or jealousy. But his expression is open, genuine. Even Silas, who I'd expect to be the most territorial, just looks entertained by the whole situation.

"I'm not—" I start, but the words die in my throat as Asher hits a particularly powerful note. His head tips back, exposing the long line of his throat, and I have to physically stop myself from whimpering.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I've spent years suppressing every omega instinct, every natural reaction.

But one pretty boy with violet eyes bats his lashes at me and I'm suddenly a hormonal teenager again?

Anomega, at that.

"You're allowed to want him," Silas says, his voice low and knowing. "Everyone does."

"But we've never seen him want anyone the way he wants you," Dante adds, a glimmer in his dark eyes.

My heart thumps against my chest traitorously.

If they only knew. It's not just want—though there's plenty of that, burning through my veins like liquid fire. It's somethingdeeper, more primal. The omega in me recognizes something in Asher, something that calls to the parts of myself I've buried so deep I thought they'd never surface again.

But it doesn't matter. It can't matter. Even if Asher does have a thing for omegas, even if his pack is surprisingly okay with sharing, I'm not what they think I am. I'm not the mysterious beta male hacker they've welcomed into their world. I'm a fraud. A lie. A broken omega girl playing dress-up in borrowed confidence.

I rub the mark seared into my wrist beneath the leather cuff I'm wearing tonight. A constant reminder of the truth I'm trying to hide.

"I should go check the security setup," I mutter, pushing off the wall. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid like throw myself at Asher's feet.

"You don't have to run," Silas says gently. "We like having you around. And Asher..." he trails off, something significant in his tone.

"Don't," I say sharply. "Just... don't. Please."

I can't bear to hear whatever he's about to say. Can't handle the kindness in his voice or the understanding in Dante's eyes. They think they know what this is, just another person falling under Asher's spell. They have no idea how much more complicated it really is.

On stage, Asher finishes his run-through with a flourish. His eyes find me in the shadows, and that brilliant smile makes my chest ache with possibilities I can never have.

"Was it good?" he calls out, sprinting over to us with barely contained energy.

"Perfect," I manage, proud of how steady my voice sounds. "But I need to..."

I gesture vaguely toward the exit, already backing away. I catch a flash of disappointment crossing his beautiful face before I turn and flee into the relative safety of the corridor.

My throat gets tight as I lean against the cool concrete wall, trying to get my breathing under control. This is exactly why I don't do in-person jobs. Why I keep everyone at arm's length. It's too dangerous to let anyone get close enough to see past the carefully constructed walls.

But Asher and his pack… They make me want to tear those walls down brick by brick. Make me want impossible things, dangerous things. Make me want to be seen, really seen, for the first time in nine years.

And that terrifies me more than any alpha from my past ever could.

I lean against the wall, letting the cool concrete ground me as I get my breathing back under control. The others don't follow me, thank god. I'm not sure I could handle any more of their well-meaning concern or their matchmaking attempts right now.

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