Page 92 of Claimed By the Band

Roses and rain.

But it's different than before—clearer, more intense. And undeniably tinged with the sweet musk of omega heat.

It's Alex's scent, but... not.

How is that possible?

My brain struggles to make sense of it even as my body responds instinctively to another omega in distress. Because that's what this is—whatheis.

An omega.

In heat.

"Oh," I breathe, understanding dawning as I gaze down at him. "You're an omega."

Shame and fear flash across his beautiful face as he turns away, curling in on himself. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

My heart breaks at the pain in his voice. I still have so many questions, but so many have been answered in an instant.

Why he's so distant.

Why he's soscared.

And most horrifyingly of all, why he had to run away from that awful place. It was bad enough when I thought he was just a neglected beta, overlooked by a cult that worships alphas and abuses omegas, but knowing he's one of them…

One ofus.

The thought of what he's been through at the hands of those monsters makes my chest tighten and my blood curdle. I'musually a pacifist, but right now, I want to hurt someone. Fuck, I want to torture whoever it is who hurt him this bad, who made him feel like hiding himself was the only way he could survive. I want to break every last bone in their body and cut pieces off until they're begging for death.

And it still wouldn't be enough.

I clench my fists hard, hard enough that the pain of my nails digging into my palms grounds me, reminds me that vengeance isn't what he needs right now.

It's protection.

Care.

And most of all, to get the fuck out of this place.

"What happened?" I ask softly, brushing the damp strands of his hair out of his face.

Whether he doesn't want to answer or he's in too much pain, I realize the answer a second later on my own.

"The pheromones," I realize aloud, guilt crashing over me. They must have triggered a heat, blown through whatever suppressants have been managing to keep his secret all this time.

Oh god. This is my fault.

My stupid stunt with the ventilation system...

"It hurts," he whimpers, and the sound goes straight to my core. Every omega instinct I have screams to comfort him, to protect him, to make it better.

"I know, kitten," I murmur, pressing a hand to his forehead. His skin burns against my palm. "Let's get you out of here."

I slip one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders, lifting him as gently as I can. He weighs almost nothing, and feels so fragile.

"I can walk," he protests weakly, even as his head lolls against my shoulder.

"Sure you can," I say softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. "But humor me, okay?"

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