Page 17 of Knot My Band: Part Two

My eyes can’t help but widen as I take in the sight of her. For a moment, I forget about my bruised vocal cords, the looming threat of a canceled show, and the anxiety eating at me like acid. It’s like watching a storm roll in—beautiful, mesmerizing, and utterly terrifying.

Miranda extends a hand; her grip is as firm as her resolve, and I can’t help but feel a spark of something—admiration, maybe, or hope—as her smile warms me from the inside out.

“Miranda.” My own smile feels like a reflex. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She’s looking at me respectfully and focusing on me first instead of the alphas in the room, even though she’s a beta.

I can feel Chase’s hope through our bond.

“This is The Edge, who you will also be managing.” I point to each of them and say their names. She shakes their hands as well.

We sit at the cluttered table. Miranda opens her briefcase and pulls out a chaos of papers and plans.

Jack is watching Miranda’s every move; Dax’s arms are crossed, his hazel gaze sharp and assessing; Aiden’s perched on the edge of another chair, silent but supportive; and Chase, well, he’s drumming his fingers on his thigh, a rhythm that seems to echo the palpitations in my heart.

“Alright, let’s hash this out,” Miranda says, sounding every bit the rockstar manager she is. She doesn’t just fill the room; she commands it. “I would like to bring your personal security team in on this so we can be on the same page if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s a great idea. I will grab them,” Jack says.

The Phoenix Pack files into the room with stoic faces and gathers around our table.

“Anders filled me in, and to be blunt, your last manager left a mess. I’ve reinstated your original security and fired the new team. You should recognize them, but to be sure, I would like to assign someone from your private security to check badges at each location.”

I look at Saint, and he nods his affirmation.

“Great idea,” I say.

“Excellent. I will be personally running any new personnel by one of you, but we are trying to lock the tour down; no new people in or out. Which means I am canceling meet and greets from now on. It’s too risky,” Miranda looks into my eyes as she says it.

“We appreciate you taking Oli’s safety seriously,” Jack says.

“It always should have been priority number one. Now, I’ve also been briefed on your throat, and I understand that you need time without singing to heal. Is that correct?”

I bite my lip, glancing at the faces of my alphas. “Yes, that’s right, but I don’t want to disappoint my fans.”

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Miranda continues, tapping the schedule, “Oli lip-syncs for the next few gigs. It’ll give your voice the break it needs without letting down the fans.”

My heart skips a beat. I’m not sure if it’s from hope or fear. Lip-sync? The idea feels foreign, almost dirty, against the raw authenticity I’ve always strived for.

“Isn’t that risky?” I muster the courage to voice my concern. “I mean, won’t people notice? What if they think I’m…I don’t know, a fraud?”

“Oli, you’re anything but,” Jack interjects, his grin unwavering. “You’re the real deal. Everyone knows that. They won’t know you’re lip-syncing.”

“Exactly,” Dax grunts, nodding. “It’s just a temporary fix. Better than canceling.”

“Your voice will heal,” Aiden adds quietly, his words a soothing balm. “We just need to be patient.”

“Besides,” Chase chimes in, his smile wicked, “we’ll make sure the show’s so electrifying, they won’t have any idea.”

Laughter bubbles up inside me despite the gnawing worry—trust Chase to lighten the mood with his cheeky charm.

“Think of it as a new challenge,” Miranda urges. “A way to connect with your fans in a different style. Show them you’re versatile.”

I consider her words, rolling them over in my mind. That’s one way to put it. But there’s still this nagging thought, an itch I can’t scratch away—will my voice be the same when it comes back?

“I can’t promise my voice will return to normal after this.” The words slip out, vulnerable and coated with a thin layer of dread.

Miranda meets my eyes, steady and sure. “No one can promise that, Oli. But I believe in you, in your resilience. You’re not alone in this.”