Page 66 of Claimed By the Band

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SILAS

Iwatch Echo carefully from my position in the chair closest to the door, trying not to let my growing concern show on my face. He's still trembling slightly under the blanket Asher wrapped around him, though he's trying hard to hide it. The way he keeps scanning the windows, checking exits... it's not just paranoia. This is learned behavior.

Damon catches my eye across the bus, and I can tell he's thinking the same thing. There's way more to our mysterious hacker than meets the eye. The constant vigilance, the way he flinches at unexpected touches, it all adds up to something darker than simple social anxiety.

"Who is he?" I ask finally, keeping my voice gentle but firm. "The person you saw?"

Echo tenses immediately, his knuckles going white around the water bottle. Asher shoots me a warning look, but we need answers if we're going to protect them both.

"My brother," Echo whispers after a long moment, the words barely audible over the rumble of the bus engine.

The admission hangs heavy in the air. I exchange looks with the others, a silent conversation passing between us. Even Knox doesn't have any shit to talk right now.

He's this terrified of his own brother? What kind of hell did this kid come from?

Something protective and fierce roars to life in my chest, an alpha instinct I usually only feel for pack. And it's not just because Asher's clearly attached to him, though that would be reason enough. There's something about Echo himself that triggers every protective instinct I have in a way no beta—no one but Asher—ever has.

"Okay," I say carefully, watching his face for any sign of panic. "Does he know where you live? Where you work?"

Echo shakes his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "He doesn't even know who I am anymore. Looked right through me."

The implications of that statement make my blood run cold. What exactly did Echo do to make himself unrecognizable to his own brother? And more importantly, why did he feel the need to?

"That's good," Damon rumbles from his spot by the kitchenette. "Means we have time to figure this out."

"There's nothing to figure out," Echo says too quickly. "I shouldn't even be here right now. If James is here, if he's figured out how to track me somehow, I'm putting you all in even more danger."

I watch Echo's face carefully as he tries to pull away from Asher, who looks like someone just punched him in the gut at the mere suggestion of Echo leaving. And fuck it, I'm not exactly thrilled by the idea either.

"Hold on," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the protective instincts roaring in my chest. "You said he looked right past you. Didn't recognize you at all." I lean forward, catching Echo's dark eyes. "Doesn't that make it extremely unlikely he's here because of you?Youweren't even sure you'd be at the concert until a few hours ago."

Echo opens his mouth to argue, but hesitates. I can see the gears turning in his head, logic warring with what I suspect is deeply ingrained fear. Fear intense enough that it's crumbled the blank mask he works so hard to keep in place.

"Silas is right," Dante adds, his voice gentle but firm. "I don't believe in coincidences either, but it doesn't sound like he's here because of you." He pauses, and I can see him choosing his next words carefully. "So the question is... why would he be here because of us?"

Echo falls silent, and I watch the internal battle play out across his face. There's so much he wants to say. I can see it in his eyes, in the way his hands clench and unclench under Asher's blanket. But years of keeping secrets don't break easily.

Finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. "My brother—my entire family—they have a very specific set of beliefs." He swallows hard, eyes fixed on some distant point. "Dangerous beliefs. And they're willing to go to great lengths to implement them. To force them on other people."

"Even if it means hurting people?" Damon asks softly, though I suspect we all know the answer.

The look in Echo's eyes is answer enough. Something dark and haunted flashes across his face, and a growl builds in my throat before I can stop it. I swallow it back, clearing my throat.

"Listen," I say, trying to keep my voice gentle despite the protective rage building in my chest. "I understand this is probably painful to discuss. And I know you don't like sharing information about your past." I catch his gaze, holding it steadily. "But you've gotta give us something. Something we can use to protect you, and Asher."

Echo flinches at that last part, his eyes darting to Asher's face. Our omega is uncharacteristically quiet, but his grip on Echo's hand hasn't loosened.

"I can't," Echo whispers, but there's a waver in his voice that tells me he's close to breaking. "You don't understand. If they find out... if anyone finds out..."

"We'll protect you," Asher says fiercely, speaking for the first time since Echo tried to leave. "Whatever it is, whoever they are, we can help. But only if you let us."

I watch Echo's resolve crumbling under the weight of Asher's sincerity. It's fascinating, really. I've seen Asher charm plenty of people, but this is different. This isn't charm or manipulation. This is pure, raw honesty. Connection.

And somehow, that seems to be exactly what Echo needs.

"They call themselves the Sons of Epsilon. They believe..." he starts, then stops, taking a shaky breath. "They believe alphas are inherently superior, meant to rule over everyone else, anda beta's role is to make sure everyone else falls in line. Omegas should be... controlled. Contained. The female ones, at least." He casts an apologetic glance at Asher. "Since only female omegas can get pregnant, they're seen as breeding stock. They see male omegas as an abomination to be cast out of the fold. No offense."

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