Page 79 of Claimed By the Band

We make our way to the casual section, Dante and Damon trailing behind us like particularly attractive security guards. Alex's eyes scan the racks, but I can tell he's not really seeing anything.

"So," I prompt gently, "what kind of style do you like? If you could wear anything?"

He blinks at me, looking startled by the question. "I... usually just go with what's practical. Easy to move in. Nothing that stands out."

"Right, but if everything was equally practical," I press, running my fingers over a soft cashmere sweater in deep forest green that would look amazing with his coloring, "what would you choose?"

Alex opens his mouth, then closes it again. His brow furrows like I've just asked him to solve some impossibly complex equation. "I... I don't know."

The lost look in his eyes hits me right in the chest. It suddenly occurs to me that he's probably been running for so long, focused solely on survival, that he never got the chance to figure out who he actually is. What he likes. What makes him happy beyond just being safe.

And yet, despite that—or maybe because of it—he's the most fascinating person I've ever met. The way his brilliant mind works, how he can crack any system but gets flustered by simple kindness. The fierce protectiveness he shows for everyone else. The walls he's built so high, yet somehow still lets me peek over occasionally.

"Well," I say, keeping my voice light despite the ache in my gut, "that's what today is for. Experimenting. Finding out what makes you feel good, not just what helps you blend in."

He looks uncertain, but I can see a spark of curiosity in those gorgeous eyes. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"That's what you've got me for," I tell him with a wink, delighting in the blush that spreads across his cheeks. "Let's try some different styles, see what resonates. No pressure, no expectations. Just... exploration."

I sound like I'm talking about something else entirely. Fuck my gutter brain.

"Like a science experiment?" he asks, lips twitching into what might be the beginning of a smile.

"Exactly!" I grab the cashmere sweater, along with a few other pieces that catch my eye. "We'll establish a baseline, test different variables, collect data..."

He actually laughs at that, the sound making my heart soar. "You're ridiculous," he says, but there's fondness in his voice that makes me want to pull him close and never let go.

"Maybe," I agree, adding a leather jacket to my growing pile. "But I'm also right. Fashion can be fun when you're not using it as armor."

His smile fades slightly at that, and I know I've hit a nerve. But instead of retreating like he usually would, he reaches out to touch the sleeve of the leather jacket. "I think I'd like to try that one," he says softly.

Well, that's promising.

"Then let's start there," I say, taking his hand again. His fingers curl around mine like they belong there, and maybe they do. My heart certainly says so, but my head says there are a thousand mental hurdles Alex would have to clear to get to the same place.

But he doesn't pull his hand out of mine even when the alphas approach, so that's something. I try to hang back a little as we continue exploring, letting him take the lead. By the time we head back to the dressing room, he's got a decent stack to try on, almost all things he's picked out for himself.

I watch Alex emerge from the dressing room for what must be the twentieth time in the past hour, and my breath catches. He's wearing fitted black jeans that hug his legs perfectly, paired withthat forest green sweater I picked out earlier. The soft material drapes just right, making him look both cozy and elegant.

"That's definitely a keeper," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. The way he's slowly started to relax into this, actually engaging with the process instead of just humoring me... it's thrilling in a way I didn't quite expect.

"You think?" He turns to check his reflection, and I catch Dante and Damon exchanging knowing looks behind him. They've been just as captivated by this transformation as I am, though they're trying—and failing—to be subtle about it.

Almost as badly as I'm failing at not checking out his ass.

"The sweater brings out the gold in your eyes," Damon says, his deep voice warm with appreciation.

Alex blushes, tugging at the sleeve in that nervous gesture I've come to find so charming. "Thanks," he mumbles, clearly not sure what to do with the compliment.

We'll just have to desensitize him. But I know my pack is up for the challenge.

While Alex disappears back into the dressing room, Damon sidles up next to me. "Now you know how it feels," he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear.

"How what feels?" I ask defensively, though I'm pretty sure I know where he's going with this.

"How an alpha feels."

I scoff, but I can't quite bring myself to deny it. Because he's right. The protective instincts I feel toward Alex are unlike anything I've experienced before. It's different from how I feelabout other omegas I've been with. This is deeper somehow. Raw.

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