Page 17 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

DANE

T he morning after everything with Eviana goes sideways feels heavier than I expect. I’m sitting in the kitchen of the cottage, staring out the window, but it’s not the view of the Devon countryside that’s holding my attention. It’s the tension in the air, thick enough to cut through.

Xar hasn’t spoken much since last night, and I can see it in him. He’s holding himself back, fighting something – something that’s clawing at him, and I know it’s the same thing that’s been pushing at me too.

I’m still trying to figure out what I’m supposed to feel.

Part of me is scared. Scared of how deeply this is affecting me – how it’s affecting all of us really – and scared of how little we know about what’s happening between us and her.

Another part is determined to find a way to make her see what’s real, to show her she’s not alone.

But the longer we sit here, the more I realise how much I’m struggling with the fact that she doesn’t know what she is to us – or how to handle it.

I catch Xar’s eyes from across the table. There’s an intensity there I haven’t seen before, like he’s wrestling with something inside of him. But when he speaks, his voice is steady. “I’m going back. I can’t just sit here anymore.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. And something in me tightens, knowing what this means. Knowing that he’s not just going back to apologise, not just to make sure she’s okay. He’s going back because he feels it – because he can’t leave it alone.

Neither can I.

“I know,” I reply quietly, the weight of it pressing on me too.

“We can’t just let this go. I think…I think she might really need our help.

Maybe she’s even meant to be ours. I know we’ve not scent matched with her so I’m not saying she’s our mate for definite or anything, but something about her has my alpha so riled up I can’t stand it. We can’t ignore that.”

Blaise, who’s been unusually quiet, shifts in his chair, looking at both of us.

He’s frowning, but there’s something else in his eyes – a mix of concern and uncertainty.

“She doesn’t even know who we are. Hell, she doesn’t even want to know.

What if she doesn’t accept this? What if she just… shuts us out?”

Xar’s jaw tightens, and I can see the struggle in his eyes. “I’ll make her understand. Dane’s right. She’s ours. I’m sure of it. She has to be, it’s the only explanation. And I’m not walking away from that.”

I feel the weight of Xar’s words like a physical force.

My stomach tightens as I think about how terrified she is, how much fear she’s carrying around.

But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m almost certain she’s ours.

If Xar is too…well, I, must be right then surely?

Why else would the three of us be reacting this strongly to her without even scenting her?

We can’t walk away from that, no matter how much she pushes us away.

I know Xar was ready for us to finish this tour and to start looking for an omega to court, and that Blaise was reluctant. I was caught in the middle as usual, unsure really one way or another. But now that we’ve found her, now that fate seems to have dropped her in our laps, I can’t walk away.

Ready or not, we have an omega now and she needs us.

Blaise lets out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “We’re all on the same page, I get it?—”

“What are you saying, Blaise?” Xar demands.

“I think you know. I’m interested in the omega too…

but we need to ease into this, Xar. You can’t just barrel in there expecting her to accept it.

She’s scared, man. And it’s pretty clear that she’s never been around alphas like us, especially not in a situation like this.

I don’t think she’s going to be open to the idea of scent matches, or even courting, when we can’t even have a civil conversation with her. I never met anyone so…skittish.”

I lean forward, my hands on the table. “He’s right, Xar. We can’t force it. But we can show her. Show her that we’re here, that we’re not going anywhere. We can win her over, but we need to be patient.”

Xar exhales, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’ll give her time. I just won’t let her push us away. She needs to know we’re here, that we’re not going anywhere.”

A silence falls between us, but it’s not a peaceful one. There’s too much left unsaid, too many unknowns about what’s happening. We’re walking on a tightrope, and every step feels like it could be our last. But we’re committed to this. We can’t back down now.

Finally, I nod. “Alright. We’ll go back in a couple of days like we agreed last night. We’ll check on her. We’ll make sure she’s alright. But this time, we’ll take it slow. We’ll show her that we care. No pressure.”

Xar’s eyes light up with something like determination, and Blaise gives a reluctant nod. “Alright. Let’s do it. But I want to send her something today, so that she knows we’re thinking of her. Maybe give her our numbers too, just in case she needs us and wants to reach out first.”

Blaise drums his fingers against the table, thinking. “It needs to be something that shows we’re thinking of her, yes, but nothing overwhelming.”

Xar scoffs. “So not a fucking bouquet of roses, then.”

I snort. “Yeah, I don’t think she’d go for that.”

Blaise shoots Xar a look. “No, but something comforting. Something practical but…gentle.”

I think about Eviana, the way she looked in that oversized jumper, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to take up less space. She’s wary, hesitant. Sending the wrong thing could make her feel trapped instead of reassured.

Then it hits me.

“A blanket,” I say.

Xar frowns. “A blanket?”

“A good one,” I clarify. “Soft. Warm. Big. Not too heavy, but something she can curl up with.”

Blaise tilts his head, considering. “It’s neutral. Not too personal, but still thoughtful.”

“And practical,” Xar admits. “She did look like she needed it.”

That’s the closest thing to approval I’ll get from him, so I take it.

Blaise pulls out his phone. “Alright. I’ll find something and get it delivered today.”

That settles something between us. A small step, but it’s something.

Now that the decision has been made, I push back from the table, stretching my arms over my head. “Right. Are we actually going to get some work done today, or just sit around talking about our feelings?”

Xar mutters something under his breath, but he stands up too, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”

Blaise is the first to step into the studio, flipping on the lights and taking a slow look around.

The space is compact but well-equipped – polished hardwood floors, thick padded soundproof panelling on the walls, and a mixing desk that’s seen better days.

It’s not ours, not yet. It’s just another rented place, another attempt to force something that hasn’t worked in months.

But there’s potential in this space. I can feel it.

But at least Liv, in all her no-nonsense efficiency, had the bulk of our gear sent ahead.

My drum kit is already set up, the familiar scuffs on the cymbals and bass pedal prove that they’re mine, even if the room isn’t.

Xar and Blaise’s absolute favourite guitars and bass are the only things they didn’t trust shipping but the amps and speakers and backup equipment are all wired and set up, ready.

Xar’s case is already open, his fingers grazing the strings like he’s checking for damage no one else would notice, even though his pride and joy travelled down in the car with us and he’s been playing around with it since we arrived.

It’s just something we do. A ritual, almost.

I run a hand along the edge of my snare, adjusting the tension, letting the feel of it settle something restless in me.

We haven’t played properly together in too long outside of the relentless tour schedule.

Haven’t created anything without it devolving into an argument, or worse – silence – in more time than I care to recall.

Xar slings his guitar strap over his shoulder and tests a few chords. It’s rough, unpolished, but there’s something there. Something we can shape.

Blaise takes his bass out last, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the weight of everything outside this room. He flicks a glance at me. “You good?”

I nod once. “Let’s just play.”

Xar starts first, fingers moving over the strings, building a riff without overthinking it. It’s slow, deliberate – almost hesitant – but I can work with that. I tap out a beat against my thigh before I even touch the kit, feeling it settle in my chest, then lean in and start playing for real.

A steady kick, a soft snare. Not overpowering, just enough to give it a pulse. I don’t look at Xar, but I can hear the way he adjusts, his playing shifting to fit the rhythm I’m laying down.

Blaise listens, waiting for the right moment before sliding in with the bass, grounding the whole thing. He doesn’t push, doesn’t rush – just supports, lets us find each other in the sound.

It’s tentative at first, like testing the weight of ice before stepping out. But then Xar picks up the tempo, feeding off the beat, his playing getting tighter, more confident. I match him, locking in, letting my body take over, letting the sticks move without thinking.

And just like that, something shifts.

For the first time in months, it doesn’t feel forced. It doesn’t feel like we’re dragging something out of ourselves just to prove we can still do it.

It just works.

Blaise leans into his bassline, nodding to himself as he adjusts the levels. “That’s it,” he mutters, almost to himself. “That’s the sound.”

Xar hums a rough melody under his breath, not quite words yet, just something instinctive. He’s feeling it, and that’s more than I’ve seen from him in a long time.

I press harder into the beat, driving it forward, testing them both. Xar follows, seamless, and Blaise tightens the groove, keeping us steady.

And I know exactly why this is happening.

It’s not the new space. Not the change of scenery, or Liv’s relentless pushing to get us working again.

It’s her.

Eviana. Evie. The omega. Our omega.

Something about her has cracked us open…or maybe stitched us back together…whether she knows it or not. And for the first time in too damn long, we’re playing like we mean it.