Page 92 of Knot My Band: Part Two

All four of us surround her, touching some part of her body and soothing her.

“It doesn’t matter. We are one pack and one band now. Whatever the future holds, we deal with it together,” I promise.

Dax, Aiden, Chase, and I discussed this and decided that this is how we feel. If our omega can’t keep singing, we will give up music too.

A tear slips out of her eye. “I could never let you stop making music for me.”

“It wouldn’t be like that. We put the pack first and do what is best for the pack. You’re our omega, and we are alphas. All that matters to us is that we still have you and are together,” I tell her.

Chase, Aiden, and Dax nod in agreement.

Reassurance floods our pack bond from all sides, and I know Oli feels it.

“Okay,” she whispers.

“We had another idea,” Aiden adds, making nerves burst from Oli again.

“Another?” she asks.

All four of us nod.

“Right now, our pack name is the Edge Pack because none of us felt connected to our last names, and our band was everything that mattered, but with you here, that changes. We want to be the Hart Pack,” Aiden tells her.

Oli’s eyes widen before awe comes rushing down the bond. I’ll never get enough of this connection to her soul.

“Really?” she asks, grinning.

Chase bounces up and down before rushing to add, “And all together, our band could be called The Hart’s Edge.”

Oli joins him in bouncing. “I love it!”

I get a text from security that the doctor is here. When there’s a knock on the door, I leave Oli on the couch and go to let the doctor in.

The front door clicks open, and there she is. The doc. She’s like a breeze of serenity as she steps through the threshold, unbothered by the thick tension she walks into. Her presence somehow feels both intrusive and necessary, a paradox wrapped in a white coat.

“Doctor,” I greet her, my voice a strained note of respect and anxiety. With a quick glance at Oli, I try to gauge how she’s doing. She’s sitting there, all spunky charm and hidden nerves, her rose gold hair a wild cascade around her shoulders.

“Hello,” the doc replies, her professional smile not quite reaching her eyes. She knows the stakes are high.

“Let’s hope you bring good news,” Dax grumbles, his arms folded across his chest.

“Let’s get started,” she says, ignoring the tension as she moves closer to Oli.

Oli’s hopeful gaze meets mine, and I offer her the best grin I can muster, though inside, I’m all twisted up. “You got this, baby girl,” I whisper, winking at her. She returns a shaky smile, and something fierce lights up inside me.

This is it. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. And I’ll stand by her through every part of it.

My feet have stopped their pacing, but it doesn’t mean the rest of me is any less a caged beast. The doctor has her hands on Oli, and every muscle in my body screams to shield her. I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep from reaching out, from growling at anyone who dares get too close. Gotta stay put. Gotta let this play out.

“Relax, Jack,” Aiden murmurs from where he leans against the wall, all calm, alpha coolness that I’m sorely lacking rightnow. But his eyes are just as glued to Oli as mine are, tracking every move the doctor makes.

“I’m trying,” I mutter under my breath, watching as Oli tilts her head back, giving the doctor full access to the delicate lines of her throat. Those green eyes of hers are wide, shimmering pools of nerves. Her fingers dance nervously on the fabric of her shirt, like a silent melody only she can hear. My chest tightens in response, a drumbeat echoing her silent tune.

“Alright, Oli, this might feel a bit uncomfortable,” the doc warns gently, her fingers poised and professional.

Oli nods, the light catching the pink strands as they sway with her movement. Damn, even nervous, she’s like a freaking siren call—beautiful, irresistible, deadly to a guy like me who just wants to pull her away from all this poking and prodding.

“Doing great,” I say, hoping my voice carries enough warmth to act like a blanket around her. The words are more for me than her, a mantra to keep the protective snarl locked up tight behind my teeth.