Page 28 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

EVIANA

T he door creaks open again, and Dane steps in, rain still clinging to him, a bundle of towels draped over one arm and a first aid kit in the other.

His eyes find me immediately, this time taking on more of an assessing expression – slumped in the bath, cheeks pale, hair plastered to my face.

His jaw tightens, but he says nothing, just moves toward me with quiet purpose.

“You’ve got a cut,” he says, crouching down beside the tub.

I nod stiffly, too tired to argue. My head is throbbing and I just want to sleep.

He sets the towels on a nearby stool – the one I use for my drink and book when I’m treating myself to a relaxing bath – then opens the kit with practiced ease.

His thigh brushes the side of the tub as he leans in, close but not crowding, and I feel the heat of his body contrast sharply with the cooling water around me.

Or maybe that’s just my imagination given that there’s still curlicues of steam rising from the surface.

“This might sting.”

His fingers are careful but sure as he wipes the blood from my temple. The antiseptic bites, sharp and sudden, and I flinch – more from the proximity than the pain. He doesn’t apologise, which I appreciate. Just steadies me with one hand on the rim of the tub, his knuckles brushing damp skin.

I make the mistake of glancing up.

He’s closer than I thought. His dark eyes are on the cut, his brows furrowed in concentration, but there’s something else there – tension pulled taut across his shoulders, his breath just slightly uneven. Like he’s aware of every inch of space between us.

He’s beautiful, I think. Despite his enormous size and intimidating looks, there’s such kindness in his gaze and his touch is so careful…

like a gentle giant . Until now I’d thought his eyes were black, but now that he’s close, I can see they’re actually the deepest, darkest midnight blue I’ve ever seen - complete with silvery striations that look like shooting stars.

My breath catches.

The word beautiful doesn’t do him justice…but I’ve got nothing else. Stupid headache.

He smooths two steri-strips across the wound, his fingers brushing my skin with the kind of softness that makes my chest tighten.

“Done,” he says quietly, lifting his gaze to mine. It holds for a beat too long. Not an invitation. Just...awareness. Unspoken. Electric.

He stands, grabbing a towel and placing it carefully within reach. “I’ll be just downstairs. You guys shout if you need anything.”

And then he’s gone.

The moment I lean into Xar, I feel a shudder run through my body.

It’s not from the cold anymore. It’s something else entirely.

His hands, still at the back of my head, are warm and steady.

His presence – his closeness – feels like it’s filling every inch of the room.

My breath hitches in my chest, and I instinctively try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t falter.

I can feel the weight of his body against mine, the pressure of his alpha presence, and something inside me coils tighter with every second.

I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion or the adrenaline finally catching up to me, but the longer I stay there, the more I realise how much easier it would be to just melt into him.

Just let him take control, let him protect me like they all want to.

Just once.

But then I notice it.

The water. The bath. The rain.

My naked skin.

Shit!

My heart leaps into my throat as the realisation hits me like a ton of bricks. The scent neutraliser I’ve been wearing non stop – the only thing that’s kept my identity hidden, that’s kept them from knowing what I really am – is gone. Washed away.

A ripple of panic courses through me, like I’m about to be exposed in the worst way possible. I’m not ready. I can’t let them get closer. I can’t let them…it would mean there’s no going back.

The water still swirls around me, and Xar’s arms are strong, holding me against his chest. But all I can think about is the scent. That familiar, unmistakable scent of an omega. My scent. Can he smell it? Or am I imagining it?

No.

No, no, no.

Oh my god.

I immediately tense, trying to retreat into myself, but his grip on me doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens. He’s holding me there, even though every fibre of my being is screaming to get away. I can’t let him smell me. I can’t let him know what I am.

I focus on my breathing, willing myself to stay as still as possible, trying to control the overwhelming urge to…to…perfume. Oh my goodness. My omega is well and truly awake and reacting to his presence, to the proximity, and I don’t know how to stop my reaction to him.

And then, just as I think I might finally manage to calm down, I hear it.

Blaise’s voice. Low. Unsteady. Predatory .

I hear him before I see him.

“What the hell was she playing at?”

His voice slices through the air, sharp and ragged, and I feel the shift immediately. The atmosphere thickens, charged with alpha energy, electric and dangerous. His footsteps echo hard against the floor, growing louder – faster.

I shudder. I don’t want him to come closer, but I can’t move. Not with Xar’s arms wrapped around me. Not when I’m frozen with the raw fear of being known .

I’m panicking, trying to smother the scent rising off my skin like steam, but it’s too late.

The neutralisers have failed, the heat of the bath accelerating everything.

That fragile, sharp-sweet scent of a terrified omega is leaking out of me, curling into the air, blooming like a secret finally released.

Xar growls low in his chest, a sound meant to comfort me – but also a warning. “Blaise. Stop.”

But it’s already over.

Blaise storms into the bathroom, his chest heaving, green eyes wild with something I don’t recognise – panic, rage, disbelief. He stops cold, nostrils flaring.

Then he snarls , the sound primal.

His eyes lock on me. Not like before. This time, they see me.

“What the fuck,” he breathes, almost like he doesn’t believe it. “That’s you ?” His voice is hoarse, almost reverent – but furious underneath.

My pulse spikes. Panic rises so hard and fast I choke on it. I try to speak, to defend myself, to explain something – anything – but the words die in my throat. I’ve been forbidden my whole life from saying I’m an omega , and now, when it finally matters most, I can’t get the words out.

Xar’s arms tighten around me protectively, anchoring me against his chest. “She’s scared,” he warns, his voice low, even. “Back off.”

But Blaise doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

“She’s mine ,” he whispers, like it’s just hit him, like it’s ruined him. “You’ve been—” He drags a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal. “You’re my— We’re?—”

His voice cracks.

“I knew you were an omega but I couldn’t smell you,” he snarls, eyes snapping back to me.

“I thought I was going insane, thinking about you the way I did. Obsessing, and not knowing why. Now it makes perfect sense. You were right fucking there, and I didn’t know . I should have protected you better.”

I flinch, the heat in my chest threatening to spill over as guilt, fear, and something deeper twist in my gut.

“I didn’t know,” I whisper, the words barely audible as my eyes fill with tears I desperately try to hold back. “I was just…trying to survive.”

Blaise’s hands clench at his sides, his entire body trembling with the force of everything he isn’t saying.

“Scaring her won’t help,” Xar says, firmer now. “And you’re not the only one feeling it. You know that.”

The air between them is thick with tension, alpha dominance and buried hurt clashing beneath the surface. There’s a silent conversation going on, a battle of wills I don't quite understand.

Blaise swears under his breath, turning on his heel. “I’m going to fix something to eat,” he mutters, but the words are stiff, forced. “She can explain later. I swear to god, if she’s known we’re matches all this time…”

And before I can say another word, he’s gone – out of the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind him like a gunshot.

I wince at the sound, every nerve in my body thrumming as I swallow down a whine of distress. My omega hates that we’ve upset him.

The silence that follows feels like an aftershock.

I stay still, letting the warmth of the water seep into my bones, trying to ignore the suffocating sense of vulnerability. I’m exposed – emotionally, physically, and now, in every sense of the word.

Maybe I should have told them. Maybe I should have trusted them. But now? Now that they know, I don’t know what to do. This is my secret. One I’ve been ordered to keep since I was three years old. What do I do now that I’ve broken that edict?

Xar doesn’t speak immediately, and for a long moment, it’s just the sound of the water swirling around us. Finally, his voice breaks through the silence.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, Eviana,” he says softly, his hand still at the back of my head, his presence a steady anchor. “We’ll take care of you. We’re not going anywhere, little one. Not now.”

I don’t know what to say to that. But when I glance up at him, his gaze is full of something I can’t name, something warm and understanding. I want to pull away, to maintain some distance, but his presence feels…right.

Slowly, I lean back against him, my body tense but not resisting. His warmth surrounds me, and I can feel myself slowly relaxing again, despite everything.

I wish I could pull away, wish I could be the one in control. But tonight, I don’t have the strength to fight it anymore.

“I should shower. Wash my hair. Find you all some dry clothes.” I cringe, realising that they might take that as an invitation to stay, but the least I can do after they’ve saved my life, is send them home warm and dry.

“Okay. But I’ll help you, love. You’ve had a fall and I’m serious about making sure you don’t have a concussion. I’m not leaving you alone, especially in the tub where you might slip.”