Page 33 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

BLAISE

T he storm outside howls against the windows, rattling the panes with ferocity.

Inside, the air feels heavy, the kind of stillness that comes before a power cut.

I glance towards Eviana, curled up asleep on the sofa, her slight frame buried beneath a patchwork quilt and a couple of scratchy old blankets we’d scrounged up, alongside the soft pink one we sent to her.

It makes me smile to see her using it, but I hate that this house isn’t full of soft comfortable things for my omega.

I’m surprised she even agreed to come into the lounge to be honest. When she stalked off to the kitchen, I thought she’d grab some food and then scurry away to her bedroom for the night, so I was shocked when she came back a short while later and offered all of us a drink. A peace offering.

She looks fragile now, her breathing steady but shallow. Her hand rests near her face, fingers twitching faintly, even in sleep. The adrenaline has finally gone and she’s crashed, but it’s hardly surprising considering everything she’s been through today.

Xar finishes stacking the firewood near the hearth, his movements precise and deliberate.

Dane is across the room, fiddling with a lantern, testing it out in case of the possibility of the lights going out.

Neither of them speaks, but their tension is palpable, vibrating through the room like a taut wire.

“I’ve sorted the porch roof,” I say, breaking the silence.

“It should hold for now, though it’ll need a proper repair come spring.

” My voice sounds gruff, even to my ears, but I can’t help it.

The storm outside feels like nothing compared to the storm brewing in my chest. “Chickens are secure too. Coop’s reinforced, and they’ve got enough feed and straw to last. They’ll be fine. ”

Xar nods, but his focus doesn’t shift from the flames in the hearth. Dane glances at me, his brow furrowed as he adjusts the lantern’s wick. “Good,” he says. “At least we won’t wake up to a scene from Twister out there.”

I huff a quiet laugh, but it’s short-lived.

My gaze drifts back to Eviana, still bundled up on the sofa.

Her face is pale, shadows carved beneath her eyes that even sleep doesn’t soften.

She looks so damn exhausted. Not just physically – this is deeper than that.

It’s like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and it’s grinding her down, piece by piece, and judging by the smudges under her eyes, she’s felt that way for some time now.

I hate it. My alpha is restless under my skin, demanding that I fix it, fix her, but I honestly don’t know where to start. I’m useless with omegas, and instincts can only do so much. Especially when said omega is as stubborn as a goat and refuses to let anyone help her.

“This place,” I mutter, shaking my head as I pace towards the window. The storm obscures most of the view, but I know what’s out there – the empty fields, the long, winding drive, the forest that seems to press in from every side. “It’s so isolated. Too fucking isolated if you ask me.”

Dane looks up from his lantern, frowning. “You’re worried about security.”

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. “Yeah, I am. It’s a nightmare. The traps around the perimeter will help – they’re good, better than I expected for someone working alone. But they’re not enough. Not if someone really wants to get to her.”

“Traps?” Xar’s attention finally shifts, his voice sharp. “What other kind of traps?”

“Basic stuff, like we discovered the other day – tripwires, some sharp surprises for anyone getting too close.”

“I thought they were just around the entry to the house to keep us away.”

“No, they’re all around the land and by the looks of it, have been there for a while.

She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that. But it’s still just her out here.

No backup. No one to call if something goes wrong.

Hell, the nearest neighbour’s what? Three miles away?

And a fucking holiday let at that. Who knows who’ll be around in an emergency.

I don’t like it.” My chest tightens just thinking about it.

“This isn’t a home, not for an omega. It’s a fortress. And not a very good one.”

Xar’s jaw tightens, and I see the flicker of understanding in his eyes. “You think she’s been living like this the whole time?”

“Looks that way,” I say, my voice dropping.

“And it’s not just the isolation or the traps.

Look around. Everything here is functional – cold, sparse.

There’s nothing soft, nothing warm. No cushions, no blankets, no pillows that don’t feel like bricks.

” I wave a hand at the threadbare room, the worn-out sofa, the battered furniture that looks like it’s barely held together.

“It’s like she’s been starving her omega.

Denying herself anything comforting…everything she needs…

and for what? Just to feel…I don’t know, in control, maybe? ”

Xar’s gaze follows mine, his jaw tightening as he takes in the room properly. “I didn’t notice it before, but you’re right,” he murmurs. “It’s like she’s trying to force herself to live like a beta, like being comfortable, being herself, is some kind of weakness.”

“She doesn’t even have proper curtains. They’re not thermal or blackout,” Dane says, glancing toward the thin, faded fabric covering the windows.

“No soft rugs, no throws, nothing to make this place feel like a home. Just the basics. Like she’s a guest in her own house.

It’s horrible now that you’ve pointed it out. ”

I nod, my chest tightening with the weight of it all.

“And of course, there’s the scent neutraliser being pumped out around the place.

Well, it was. I’m guessing there was a power surge or something that knocked it out and it’s not come back on yet, which is why we can suddenly smell her.

But still, it’s a weird thing to do in your own home. ”

“Her omega’s been starving, and she doesn’t even see it,” I say, the words scraping out of me. “She’s trained herself to ignore what she needs, what she deserves. And now? Now her omega is screaming at her to listen, and she doesn’t know how. I’m worried she might really hurt herself.”

The room falls silent except for the crackle of the fire and the distant howl of the storm.

I run a hand through my hair, pacing again to try to shake the restless energy crawling under my skin.

My alpha is clawing at me now that I’ve voiced my biggest concern, demanding I do something, anything, to make this right. To fix it. But what?

“She’s exhausted,” Xar says quietly, his eyes fixed on Eviana. “We’ve pushed her to the edge, and she’s too stubborn to admit it.”

“She’s scared,” I add. “And who wouldn’t be? She’s out here all alone, no pack, no one to protect her. No one to—” I cut myself off, biting back the words that are too sharp, too raw.

“No one to care for her,” Dane finishes for me, his voice low, his shoulders tense. “To make her feel safe.”

Xar exhales heavily, dragging a hand down his face. “We can’t change everything overnight. She’ll fight us if we try.”

“Then we don’t make it about her,” I say, my voice firm.

“Not directly, anyway. We start small. We fix what we can without stepping on her toes. Reinforce the house, add some security measures. Get her some damn blankets, cushions, whatever it takes to make this place livable. We can use the excuse that the storm will knock the power out and it’ll get cold. ”

“And when she pushes back?” Dane asks, raising an eyebrow.

“She will,” Xar mutters. “You know she will.”

“Then we don’t let her push us away,” I say, holding their gazes.

“Not this time. She can argue all she wants, but we’re not leaving her like this.

She deserves more, even if she doesn’t think so.

If we have to, we’ll say the stuff is for us.

Despite how hostile she’s trying to appear, she’s actually very sweet, and I know she wouldn’t let us suffer in a storm. She’ll have to let us stay, right?”

There’s a beat of silence before Dane sighs, his lips twitching in reluctant agreement. “We’ll make a list,” he says. “Supplies, repairs, whatever else she needs. I’m sure we can venture out before things get too bad, but we’ll have to be quick about it.”

Xar nods, his expression grim but determined. “And we’ll make sure she’s not alone in this storm. Not now, not ever again.”

I glance back at Eviana, her peaceful face softened by sleep, and something inside me aches. She’s fought so hard to survive on her own, but she shouldn’t have to. Not anymore.

For tonight, we’ll let her rest. But come morning, we’re changing everything – starting with the way she sees herself.

Xar stands abruptly, his eyes fixed on Eviana’s sleeping form. I watch him with a frown as he moves toward the sofa, his steps careful, deliberate.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through the quiet.

Without answering, Xar kneels beside the sofa, his hand brushing lightly over the patchwork quilt tucked around her. His expression softens, his usual sharp edges replaced by something I don’t think I’ve ever seen from him – tenderness.

“Xar,” I press, my tone more demanding now.

He glances at me briefly before shifting, climbing onto the sofa next to her. The space is cramped, and his movements are slow, cautious, as though he’s afraid to wake her. Settling himself, he wraps an arm gently around her shoulders and pulls her against his chest, tucking her under his chin.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss, stepping closer.