Page 90 of Knot My Band: Part Two

“Guys, this is…” Words fail me, but it doesn’t matter—they understand. Their grins are as wide as mine, reflecting the awe sparkling in my eyes.

Jack steps forward, his blue eyes dancing. “And it gets better, Oli.” He pauses, letting the suspense build up like the pre-chorus tension in a love ballad.

“Spill it, Jack,” I say, the tease in my tone belying the thrumming anticipation beneath my skin.

“Alright, here it comes.” He winks. “The label got wind of Dax’s new song—the one he wrote for you—and they’re stoked about it. They want to record it, Oli, right here, with all the bells and whistles.”

My heart skips a whole damn beat. “You’re kidding me!” Elation bubbles up inside me, frothy and wild. I whirl toward Dax, who has always been more scowls than words. But right now, his eyes hold a softness reserved for moments like this.

“Really?” My voice is barely above a whisper, a mix of vulnerability and hope.

“Really,” he confirms, his gruff exterior cracking into a rare smile.

“Wow, just…wow.” It’s not the eloquence of a lyricist, but at this moment, it’s all I have. The song isn’t just notes and lyrics; it’s a piece of Dax, a piece of us. And the thought of sharing it with the world sets my soul ablaze.

“Oli, you have to sing it with me,” Dax insists, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nibble on my bottom lip, the hesitation knotting up in my midsection. “But it’s The Edge’s song, not mine. I can’t just…”

“Can’t just what? Own the fact that you’re the muse behind it?” Chase cuts in, ruffling my rose gold hair, his grin teasing and playful. “You’re the heart of the track, little rose.”

“You need to record it, and I can’t sing yet,” I say sadly.

That doesn’t discourage them.

“We have a doctor coming tomorrow. The sound engineer is scheduled to come the day after, and we can record before we leave for Europe,” Jack says simply.

I let out a long sigh, torn between the comfort of their belief in me and the gnawing worry of my voice healing.

Chase wraps an arm around my shoulders, his presence grounding. “And if your voice isn’t ready, then we will push it all back.”

“Imagine it, Oli,” Dax says, stepping closer until I can see the flecks of green in his hazel gaze. “Your voice intertwined with mine, telling a story only we know how to tell.”

“Okay,” I finally whisper, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Let’s do it.”

Jack cheers, and the others join in, a chorus of encouragement that buoys my spirits.

“We are adding Dax’s song and the one you wrote with Aiden to our setlist for Europe. Miranda approved them both,” Jack tells me.

“Seriously?” The excitement bubbles inside me like champagne, threatening to spill over. “Miranda’s on board?”

“Totally on board,” Chase chimes in, winking at me from where he’s fiddling with his drums. “She loves the idea of a new hit to shake things up.”

“Damn right she does,” Dax adds with a smirk. “And with your voice, Oli? People will love it. We will have a whole new listening base.”

“But we can’t practice,” I reluctantly remind them.

“We’ve already practiced your song with Aiden, and we are gonna wing Dax’s song,” Jack says.

The alphas gather around me, a solid wall of support and shared ambition.

“Okay, then, let’s rock Europe’s world,” I declare, meeting each of their gazes in turn. Their nods are all the encouragement I need.

Jack

DIRTY BETA GOSSIP COLUMN

IS IT SAFE FOR OLI HART RIGHT NOW? DO WE BLAME HER ALPHAS, THE EDGE, FOR MAY’S ATTACK?