Page 69 of Claimed By the Band

He looks up at me through those impossibly long lashes, and for a moment I forget how to breathe. There's so much I want to say, so much I want to do. But now isn't the time. He needs a friend right now, not whatever complicated feelings are building between us.

So I just squeeze his hand and settle in beside him, letting him set the pace. If he wants to talk more, I'll listen. If he wants to sit in silence, that's fine too.

Whatever he needs, I'll be here. For as long as he'll let me.

I sit quietly, watching Echo out of the corner of my eye. He's still trembling slightly, but it's less violent now. More like rippleson a pond rather than earthquakes. My omega instincts are screaming at me to gather him up, to wrap him in my arms and protect him from everything that's ever hurt him.

But I resist.

Dante's voice echoes in my head.

“Like a feral kitten.”

I have to let him come to me, have to let him set the pace. No matter how much it kills me to see him hurting.

Minutes pass in comfortable silence. The gentle rumble of the bus and the distant murmur of my alphas' voices elsewhere on the tour bus create a soothing backdrop. Gradually, I feel Echo start to relax beside me, his breathing evening out.

Then, so slowly I almost miss it, he shifts closer. His shoulder brushes against mine, tentative, testing. I hold perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. Another shift, and suddenly he's pressed against my side, his head dropping to rest on my shoulder.

My heart soars, and it takes everything in me not to immediately wrap him up in my arms. Instead, I wait, letting him get comfortable. Letting him know it's okay, that I'm not going to push for more than he's ready to give.

Finally, when I feel the last of the tension leave his body, I carefully wrap my arm around his shoulders. He lets out a soft sigh that makes my chest tight, and somehow manages to press even closer.

I can't help but breathe in his scent. It's clean and crisp, as usual, but there's something else underneath. Something tantalizinglyfamiliar that I can't quite place. It's driving me crazy, like a melody I can almost remember but can't quite catch.

I've never reacted this way to a beta's scent before. Usually, they're just... there. Pleasant but unremarkable.

But Echo...

There's something about his scent that makes my omega instincts sing. Something that makes me want to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in until I figure out exactly what that elusive note is.

His breathing starts to slow, becoming deep and even. I glance down to find his eyes closed, those impossibly long lashes fanned out against his cheeks. He looks younger like this, the careful mask of indifference finally dropped in sleep. My chest aches at how vulnerable he looks, how much trust he's showing by letting himself fall asleep in my arms.

I know I should probably leave once he's fully out. Should join my alphas in the back and let him rest. But I can't bring myself to move. Not when he's finally letting down his walls, even if it's just in sleep.

The alphas will understand. They always do. They know how much I need this—not just the physical closeness, but the chance to protect someone the way they protect me. I've always been the one being sheltered, being guarded. And while I love that about my pack, there's something powerful about being the protector for once.

Echo shifts in his sleep, pressing his face into my neck. His breath tickles my skin, and that mysterious scent of his swirls around me. I tighten my arm around him instinctively, wanting to keep him close. Keep him safe.

It hits me then, with startling clarity, that I would do anything to protect him. Not just from his brother or his cult, but from everything. From the loneliness that radiates off him in waves. From the fear that keeps him running. From his own demons that make him think he doesn't deserve kindness or connection.

I've never felt this protective over anyone before. Sure, I care about my fans, about the other omegas who look up to me. But this is different. This is bone-deep and primal, like something clicking into place that I didn't even know was missing.

Echo makes a small sound in his sleep, almost like a whimper, and I find myself humming softly. It's an old lullaby my mother used to sing. He settles immediately, his body going boneless against mine.

I press a gentle kiss to the top of his head, breathing in that maddeningly complex scent one more time. "I've got you," I whisper, even though I know he can't hear me. "You're safe now. I promise."

And I mean it with every fiber of my being. Whatever's coming, whatever his brother and that cult are planning, they'll have to go through me first. Through all of us.

Because Echo might not realize it yet, but he's already part of our pack.

And we protect our own.

27

JORDAN

Iwake with a start, heart racing as I try to place my unfamiliar surroundings. The gentle swaying and rumble beneath me clicks first.

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