Page 32 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

DANE

T he tension in the air is suffocating.

I’ve been standing in the hallway downstairs, waiting, trying to give them space, but I can feel it now – the crackling energy that surrounds Xar and Eviana the moment they come back down the stairs.

Eviana’s eyes snap to mine, and for a second, I think she’s going to say something. But then her gaze darts away, her whole body going rigid. Xar steps forward, but she raises her hands, cutting him off before he can even speak.

“No.” The word is sharp, jagged, and it catches me off guard. I know we’ve pushed her too far. I know we’ve been too much, but the look in her eyes – it’s raw . Wild. She’s terrified. “You need to leave. Right now. All of you.”

Xar freezes, his expression flickering with confusion, and something darker – something I can’t quite place – begins to settle in. His shoulders tighten, and his eyes search hers, trying to understand, trying to reason.

But I can already tell it’s not going to work. Whatever just happened between them – and I can guess – has rattled her to her core.

Eviana’s voice rises again, cracking with desperation. “I told you. Leave. Now.” Her breathing is shallow, frantic.

She’s on edge, her hands trembling at her sides, and I can feel it – all of it. Her scent slams into me like a wave, rising fast and unfiltered, cutting straight through the warm, savoury haze of the food we cooked like it’s nothing.

It’s overwhelming.

Intense. Wild. Untamed.

Flowers bursting into bloom under pressure. Ripe fruit just on the verge of splitting open. Rain on hot pavement, sharp and clean. It’s mouthwatering, feral, hers .

And it makes every instinct in me stand at attention.

It’s like her omega has suddenly arrived in full force, like a primal roar echoing in the room, demanding attention. Her body is shaking, her chest rising and falling with every breath. She’s barely holding it together, and I’m standing here, powerless, watching it all unravel.

My alpha demands I help her, but I don’t because I know my help wouldn’t be welcomed right now.

Every instinct is screaming at me to sweep her up into my arms, to purr for her, to reassure her that I’m here, she’s safe, it’ll all be okay.

But what little I know about this omega, I know she’d hate that.

But Xar steps forward again, his voice softer now, though there’s an underlying edge to it. “Eviana, please. We don’t want to?—”

“No.” She cuts him off with a snap so sharp, it stings. “I don’t want any of you here.” The words, though not aimed directly at me, still hit like a slap and send a cold shock straight to my gut. It’s not just rejection. It’s fear. She’s petrified. And I don’t know why.

I can see it in her eyes – her guard is up, her walls are higher than ever. But it’s not just that. The way her scent is pulsing in the air – it’s a call. A warning. Her omega is fighting to get out, and she’s losing the battle to control it.

“Eviana…” Xar tries again, but his voice falters this time. I don’t think he’s used to hearing that kind of desperation in anyone. We all know she’s been closed off, but this – this is something else. I’ve never seen her this frantic.

Maybe I misjudged what happened upstairs between them. I can’t imagine any scenario that would cause her to react this violently. Not to Xar anyway. Blaise, I could kind of understand. But Xar’s the gentle one. What could possibly have happened to make her feel like this?

The room is thick with her scent now, burnt and cloying, all traces of that light sweet honeysuckle gone.

I realise she’s almost to the edge. I can feel it too.

The air is charged with her omega’s presence, and it’s like something is pushing her past the point of no return.

Her omega is awake, and it’s reacting to us – reacting to Xar.

To the scent of an alpha. And it’s too much for her to control.

Eviana shakes her head violently, tears brimming in her eyes, and she steps back as if she’s physically trying to put distance between herself and Xar. “I don’t care. If you don’t leave, I swear I’ll call the police.”

This time I do step forward, my heart hammering against my ribcage, but Xar stops me with a single hand on my arm. He’s still staring at her, his expression a strange mix of concern and something…possessive.

“Eviana…” His voice is low now, almost a growl, and I feel the shift in him. He’s not backing off. He’s not even close to giving up. “We’re not going anywhere. Baby, you hit your head. You were unconscious. We can’t leave you, little one.”

“I’m fine,” she protests, but her voice is weak, and I can see the exhaustion in her eyes.

“You’re not fine,” Blaise snaps from across the room, his frustration boiling over.

Her eyes flicker open, meeting his, and for a moment, something softens in her expression. She looks away quickly, though, wrapping her arms around herself like a shield.

“I was fine before you showed up,” she says quietly, more to herself than to us.

Blaise scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything, and I shoot him a warning look. Now’s not the time to push her.

“Look,” I say, my tone softer now, “you don’t have to do everything alone. We’re here to help. And whether you want us to or not, we have to stay and make sure that you’re okay. It was a nasty fall, Evie.”

She doesn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the fire. The tension in the room is thick, but I let the silence hang, giving her space to process.

After a long moment, she speaks again, her voice barely audible. “Thank you. For…catching me, Blaise. Or whatever you all did.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Blaise says, leaning back on his heels. “Just don’t scare us like that again.”

Her lips twitch, almost like she wants to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “No promises.”

Blaise lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” she says, and there’s a flicker of defiance in her voice, but it’s tempered by the exhaustion weighing her down.

“I’ll grab some tea,” I say, heading toward the kitchen. “You guys help Eviana get comfortable in front of the fire and then we can eat.”

“Come on, stubborn omega,” Blaise says, his tone teasing. “Let your alphas feed and take care of you.”

The words ignite something in her. She takes another step back, and her entire body tightens, like she’s ready to fight, to lash out, and in that moment, I know – we’ve crossed a line.

Xar must feel it too. His jaw tightens as he steps toward her once more, and then – it happens.

She gasps, her breath catching in her throat as the air between us somehow thickens.

The scent is overpowering now, heavy and sharp, cutting through everything else, making it hard to breathe.

Her omega is practically screaming now, and I see her eyes widen in panic as her scent floods the room. It’s her – it’s us – it’s too much.

Her back hits the doorframe, and she freezes, her whole body trembling as if she’s barely holding on.

She’s fighting us and she doesn’t even seem to know why, but her omega won’t let her win.

It’s clawing to get out, the scent stronger with every second, and I can see it now – she’s on the edge of losing herself.

The last thing I hear before Xar speaks again is a small, strangled whimper from her, something so raw, so vulnerable, that it makes me freeze in place.

Her voice cracks as she finally looks at us – at Xar – and I can see it now. The desperation. The need. Her body is trembling, her scent burning the air, and she’s so close to breaking.

“Please.” Her voice is barely above a whisper now, full of pain and fear. “Please. Please.”

Xar steps forward, his movements slow, deliberate, and he reaches for her, his hand brushing against her arm. The touch is soft, but there’s a quiet command in it. His voice is steady, but there’s no mistaking the edge in it now.

“Eviana, you’re mine. Ours. Baby, please. Don’t fight it, little one.”

She flinches at the words, and her eyes flicker between us, a look of panic flashing across her face.

The moment shatters like glass.

“No!” Eviana cries, her voice raw and desperate, as she wrenches her arm away from Xar’s touch. Her eyes blaze with defiance, but there’s something else in them too – something broken. “I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong to anyone! You can’t have me!”

Her scent surges again, sharp and wild, making my breath hitch. It’s chaos, pure and unfiltered, and it feels like it’s wrapping around every nerve in my body, pulling me taut. My alpha instincts roar to the surface, but I shove them down, hard. This isn’t about us – it’s about her.

Xar freezes, his hand still outstretched, his expression flickering between shock and absolute panic. His jaw tightens, but this time, he takes a deliberate step back, forcing himself to give her space.

“You’re right,” Xar says, his voice softer now, steady but firm.

“You don’t belong to us. Blaise was just joking, love.

You’re not a commodity to be owned. You are precious and special, and if anything, we belong to you .

I know you’re going to need some time to get your head around the idea of that, but that doesn’t mean we’re leaving. ”

Eviana’s eyes narrow, suspicion flickering in her gaze. “You don’t get to decide that,” she snaps, her hands trembling at her sides.

“No,” I interject, stepping forward cautiously, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening.

“We don’t. But you’re not okay, Eviana. You hit your head, and your omega’s fighting you.

I don’t think it’s unfair to say you’re not used to dealing with her.

This is all very overwhelming right now.

Which is why we can’t just leave you like this.

It would be dangerous. Let us stay – just for tonight if need be.

If the doctor says you’re fine in the morning, we’ll go. You have my word.”

Her gaze jumps to mine, searching my face as though she’s trying to find some hidden agenda. Her breathing is shallow, her body trembling with the effort to hold herself together.

“And if I say no?” she asks, her voice cracking under the strain.

“Then we’ll stay out of your way,” Xar says firmly. “This house is big enough for the four of us. But we’re not walking out that door until we know you’re safe.”

Blaise lets out a frustrated huff, muttering something under his breath, but one look from me silences him. This isn’t about what any of us want.

“If you kick us out, we’ll sleep on the leaky porch,” I tell her.

Eviana stares at us for a long moment, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I can see the conflict warring in her eyes – the desperate need for control clashing with the undeniable pull of her omega instincts.

Finally, she exhales shakily, her shoulders slumping as the tension drains from her frame. The fight bleeds out of her in a single breath, and what’s left behind guts me – pure exhaustion, like she’s been holding the world on her back for far too long.

“Fine,” she whispers, barely audible. “But only until morning. And only if I get to decide where you stay.”

“Deal,” I say quickly, relief washing through me like a crash of cold water. I’d take anything. Any terms. Just to stay close.

Xar steps back a little more, deliberately loosening his posture, but I don’t miss the flicker of tension in his jaw. “Where do you want us?” he asks gently.

Her eyes flick between us, wary, weighing something unspoken before she gestures vaguely toward the living room. “In there. And don’t – don’t hover.”

“We won’t,” I promise, even as every cell in my body rebels. All I want is to hover. To watch her breathe. To scent every shift of her emotion and make damn sure she’s safe.

She nods once, stiffly, then turns away, heading toward the kitchen with slow, dragging steps. I watch her go, heart lodged in my throat. Her scent lingers in the hallway like a trail of grief and honey and heat. Wild. Open. Uncontrolled.

Tonight is going to test every inch of our restraint.

Blaise mutters low behind me, sharp and bitter. “We should’ve never left her.”

I don’t answer him, just glance over at Xar. “We’ll get her through tonight,” I say under my breath, the words meant only for him. A vow. “Everything can be sorted in the morning.”

Xar’s eyes stay locked on the space where she disappeared, something fractured and fierce glinting in them. “We have to,” he whispers back.

There’s no maybe. No middle ground.

Because even if she doesn’t know it yet?—

Even if she fights us every step of the way?—

She’s ours.

And she’s not facing any of this alone.

Not ever again.