Page 61 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

EVIANA

C omfort presses in from all sides – pillows, blankets, perfect scents – like the world has finally gone quiet.

For a moment, I don’t know where I am – just that I feel safe.

The scent of my nest surrounds me, soft and rich and tangled with them .

Honeysuckle and leather. Amber and rain.

Spices and woods. Fruit and flowers. I breathe it in like it’s the first breath I’ve taken in years.

The haze isn’t here yet.

But I can feel it approaching. Inevitable and imminent.

It hums at the edge of me, like a wave preparing to crash. I know it won’t be long now. A day. Maybe two. It’s coming – and with it, the thing I’ve feared all my life, but am somehow starting to long for too.

Instinct. Desire. The loss of control.

But not yet. This morning, I still have a choice. And I already know what I want to do with it.

I want them.

Each of them.

Not in the haze of heat, not because biology demands it, but because I do. I want to let them in, to explore the craving that’s been building inside me for days, for weeks. And I want to do it on my terms.

My skin prickles with awareness as I shift slightly, and that’s when I feel him.

Dane.

He’s lying beside me, propped up on one elbow, watching me with that quiet intensity of his.

His scent curls around me all musk and cherrywood, warm and grounding and his .

I can’t help the little hitch in my breath as our eyes meet and his amber aroma blooms as the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice low and sleep-rough.

“Morning,” I whisper back, voice still thick.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

I blink at him, surprised by the question. Not because it’s unexpected, but because no one’s ever really asked me that like it matters.

I take a moment to check in with myself. “Alright, actually,” I admit. “Clear. Good.”

His lips tip in a soft smile. “You smell different.”

I stiffen, instinctively pulling the blankets higher.

“Not bad,” he adds quickly, voice gentle. “Just…softer. Settled.”

Settled. That feels right. Like something’s finally clicked into place inside me.

I shift again, suddenly restless. “I should, um…freshen up.”

He nods, making no move to stop me, and I slip from the nest and into the en suite.

I didn’t get the chance to appreciate it before but Dane’s worked wonders in here too.

The walls are painted a deep, dark blue – almost midnight – and he’s swapped the harsh lighting for something much softer.

The shower has had an upgrade and I’m relieved to see he kept the original roll-top bath.

He said yesterday that he still wants to re-tile and make some finishing touches in here, but the place seems perfect to me, especially considering he did everything himself on such a short timeline.

I use the toilet, wash my hands, splash water on my face, brush my teeth, comb my fingers through my hair and then stare at my reflection longer than I mean to.

I’m wearing just my panties and one of Blaise’s band tees – black with the Ruin Bound logo on it, which reminds me I need to look them up later if the power is on.

There’s colour in my cheeks. There’s a light in my eyes too, something new. Something brave.

When I return, Dane’s still waiting for me, but he hasn’t moved. His gaze tracks me as I cross the room, but it’s not predatory. It’s reverent. He looks at me like I’m something rare. Precious.

I sit on the edge of the nest, then lean in slowly, my pulse fluttering. He stays still, letting me lead, and I press my lips to his in a kiss that’s meant to be thank-you. Soft. Gentle.

But it deepens quickly.

His hand comes up to cradle my cheek, thumb brushing the line of my jaw as he kisses me back, slow and searching. When we finally pull apart, my breath is shaky, and there’s something burning low in my belly.

“I didn’t think you liked me that way,” I murmur, eyes locked on his.

He blinks. “What?”

I shrug, trying to keep it casual, but my voice wavers. “Blaise is always flirting. Xar’s so open about how he feels. But you…you’re just always looking after me. Which is lovely, but I thought maybe you didn’t…want me.”

He lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. Then he sits up fully, reaching for my hand. He laces our fingers together, then slowly, deliberately, guides my palm to his lap.

I feel him.

Hard. Thick. Unmistakably aroused beneath the softness of the blanket.

My mouth goes dry.

“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he says, voice like gravel and heat.

I shake my head slowly, lips parted, pulse thrumming through every inch of me.

“I want you,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I laid eyes on you. But you needed safety first. Now you’ve got it.”

Something in me splinters at that.

Because he’s right.

And because he’s not pushing, not demanding, just offering .

My palm is still against him, heat and need pulsing through the fabric. My fingers twitch slightly, and his breath catches. He’s letting me feel him, letting me decide . And fuck, that decision has never been clearer.

His lips find mine again, deeper this time. It’s not a thank-you kiss anymore – it’s hungry, coaxing, made of want and restraint and something deeper. His hands cradle my face like I’m precious, but there’s heat behind his touch, steady and anchoring.

The moment I open to him, something cracks open inside me.

He groans softly, his tongue brushing against mine, and I melt. I’m weightless in his lap, my body buzzing with need. The haze hasn’t hit yet, but my omega is already stirring, restless and needy, purring so loud in my chest it’s like thunder in my ears.

“Dane,” I whisper into the kiss, and he pulls back just enough to look at me.

His eyes are molten. “Still okay?”

I nod, breathless. “More than.”

He smiles like I’ve just given him the world.

I rise onto my knees and straddle his lap slowly, the blankets shifting around us. His hands hover for a moment before settling on my waist, big and warm and grounding. He’s so careful, like he’s afraid to startle me – but the tension in his arms tells me he’s holding himself back by a thread.

“You’re always so calm,” I whisper, tracing the line of his collarbone with trembling fingers. “Even now. You feel like…anchor ropes in a storm.”

He smiles faintly, eyes darkening as I settle fully against him, my shirt bunched up and probably exposing my underwear. “And you’re fire in the middle of it,” he says, voice low. “You burn and bloom at the same time.”

The compliment stuns me. I breathe it in like oxygen.

I lean in to kiss him again, deeper this time – needy, hungry. His lips part for me immediately, and when our tongues meet, it’s electric. A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against mine. I can feel him, hard and thick beneath me, and my hips rock forward instinctively.

He groans.

One of his hands slides down to my hip, the other tangling in my hair as he kisses me again, slow and consuming. His fingers flex, and then he’s pulling me tighter against him, rolling his hips up so I feel every inch of his arousal press through the thin barrier between us.

The sensation punches the air from my lungs.

My thighs clench instinctively, shirt bunched around my waist now, heat pulsing between my legs. He hisses softly when I shift against him, and I realise he’s fighting for control just as much as I am.

“Fuck, Evie,” he murmurs, nose brushing my cheek. “You feel so good.”

Then he lifts his hands to my hips and drags them forward – slowly, deliberately – rubbing me against his cock.

The friction is everything.

Sharp. Blinding. Delicious.

My hands land on his bare tattooed shoulders, nails digging in, and I moan into his mouth as he rocks me again, and again. The head of his cock catches against me soaked folds through his boxers, and I swear I see stars.

My scent bursts around us – sweet, bright, mouth-watering. Rain, apricot, honeysuckle, nectarine blossom. It floods the room, and Dane growls deep in his chest, eyes darkening to pure Alpha.

“Fuck, Evie,” he rasps, nose brushing my throat as he drags my hips again. “You smell incredible. You’re driving me insane.”

He kisses down my neck, tongue flicking over the skin before sucking gently at the curve of my throat.

I gasp, clutching at him as he scent-marks me – not biting, not claiming, just coating me in him.

Warm amber, smoky musk, that hint of cherrywood that makes my head spin.

His scent rolls over me, claiming space beside mine, and I feel my omega purr in contented surrender.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “Even if you don’t bond with us. Even if all we ever have is this – this is yours . My alpha. My body. My heart. All yours, omega.”

The words crack something in me. I press my forehead to his, panting, trying to ride the wave building between us. He pulls my shirt up and off slowly, revealing my bare chest, and groans as he looks down.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, reverent.

My thighs tremble at his words, and I feel the low, instinctual purring start deep in my chest. It surprises me – embarrasses me – but Dane doesn’t mock it. He groans in response, like it calls to something primal in him.

He kisses the underside of my jaw, then down my neck. His lips are soft but purposeful, tongue flicking across my scent gland – not biting, not claiming, but tasting . My back arches into him, my hands burying in his thick hair.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “Not because of instinct or heat. Because you chose me . And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you’re glad you did.”

A soft, broken sound escapes me. I can’t hold it back. I want him – god, I want him.