Chapter 13 – SILAS
13
SILAS
M y fingers idly pluck at the strings of my guitar, muscle memory taking over as I lose myself in thought. The events of the past few weeks play on repeat in my mind, a endless loop of chaos.
Across from me, Knox hunches over his bass, brow furrowed in concentration as he works through a particularly tricky riff. The low, rumbling notes vibrate through the air, a comforting counterpoint to the whirlwind of my thoughts.
And then there's Asher.
Our omega flits about the bus like a hummingbird on crack, rifling through his extensive wardrobe with manic energy. Clothes fly through the air, rejected options piling up on every available surface. It would be amusing if it wasn't so goddamn concerning.
"What do you think about this one?" Asher holds up a shimmering purple shirt, cut low enough to make a stripper blush. "Too much?"
I arch an eyebrow. "Depends. Are you trying to seduce the CEO or give him a heart attack?"
Asher's laugh is bright, but there's an edge to it that sets my teeth on edge. He's trying too hard, putting on a show. It's what he does when he's scared, when he's feeling vulnerable. And I fucking hate it. Hate that we can't really protect him from a threat we can't even name.
"Maybe both," he quips, tossing the shirt aside. "Gotta keep 'em guessing, right?"
I grunt noncommittally, watching as he pulls out another option. This one's a deep emerald green, still revealing but not quite as in-your-face as the purple monstrosity. It brings out his violet eyes, the warm glow of his skin.
"What about this one?" he asks, holding it up against his chest. "Think it'll make me look like vapid knothead bait?"
The words are meant to be light, teasing, but they hit me like a punch to the gut. Is that basically what he is now? Bait?
"Ash," I start, but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand.
"I know, I know. But we need to distract the CEO so Echo can do his thing, right? Might as well use what I've got."
There's a bitterness in his tone that makes my alpha instincts roar to life. I want to gather him up in my arms. But I know that's not what he needs right now.
So instead, I force a smirk. "Definitely the green one, then. It'll bring out your eyes."
Asher beams, and for a moment, I see a flash of the carefree omega I fell in love with all those years ago. "Perfect!"
He slips the shirt on, the silky fabric clinging to his lean, muscular frame in all the right places. It's a struggle to tear my eyes away, to remember that this isn't for me. It's for the mission. For Echo.
The thought of our mysterious hacker sends a fresh wave of unease through me. There's something off about him, something that doesn't quite add up. But Asher seems to trust him implicitly, and that... well, that scares the shit out of me.
Not quite as much as the fact that I can see why Asher is so fixated on him.
"Come here," I say, patting the spot next to me on the couch. Asher obliges, curling up against my side like he was made to fit there. And maybe he was.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation I know we need to have. "I need you to be honest with me about something."
He tilts his head, looking up at me with those impossibly wide eyes. "I'm always honest with you. You know that."
And I do. It's one of the things I love most about him. Even when the truth hurts, even when it's messy and complicated, Asher has never shied away from it. It's why I trust him with my life, with my heart.
But right now, that honesty feels like a double-edged sword.
"Are you into Echo?"
The words hang in the air between us, charged and challenging. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Knox's fingers still on the strings of his bass. He doesn't look up, doesn't say a word, but I know he's listening intently.
Asher groans, burying his face in my neck. "That's a low blow, Silas."
I wrap my arm around him, pulling him closer. "I'm not trying to catch you out, babe. I swear. It's just... we've always talked about these things, you know? Your needs, the things we can't give you. I don't want that to change."
He's quiet for a long moment, and I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft, almost hesitant.
"I'm intrigued by him," he admits. "There's something about him that just... I don't know. But it doesn't matter, does it? He's a brick wall. And he probably isn't even into omegas."
The vulnerability in his voice breaks my heart. I want to tell him that anyone would be into him, omega or not. That he's the most captivating person I've ever met, that Echo would have to be blind not to see how incredible he is.
But before I can find the words, the door to the bus swings open with a bang. Dante and Damon tumble in, arms laden with bags of snacks and drinks.
"We come bearing gifts!" Dante announces, dumping his haul on the kitchenette counter. "Hope you're hungry, 'cause we bought out half the store."
Asher perks up immediately, his earlier melancholy forgotten as he bounds over to inspect the offerings. "Ooh, did you get those spicy chips I like?"
And just like that, the moment is gone. I watch as Asher chatters away with Dante and Damon, all smiles and enthusiasm once more. But I can't shake the nagging feeling in my gut, the sense that something fundamental has shifted.
I catch Knox's eye across the bus, and I know he feels it too. For once, we're on the same page. Whatever happens tonight at PheroMaster, whatever comes of this thing with Echo... things in our pack might never be the same again.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of nervous energy and half-hearted attempts at normalcy. We run through a few songs, more out of habit than any real need to practice. Asher fusses over his hair and clothes, changing his mind a dozen times before settling on a look that's somehow both effortlessly casual and devastatingly sexy.
I try not to stare, try not to let my mind wander to dangerous places. But it's a losing battle.
As the sun begins to set over the parking lot where we've set up camp, a sense of nervousness settles over the bus like a weighted blanket. Dante and Damon bicker good-naturedly over the snack arrangement, determined to create the perfect spread for our potential post-mission hangout. I think they're being a little too optimistic that Echo isn't just going to bail on us.
Part of me would be relieved, but the other part that's as protective over Asher's heart as everything else is loathe to see him disappointed. It's rare there's anything—or anyone—he can't have with a snap of his fingers.
It figures he would become instantly infatuated with what's probably the one person on this planet who wouldn't jump into his bed the second he asked.
Knox retreats to the back of the bus, claiming he needs to "get in the zone" before we head out. I'm not even sure I want to know what that means.
And me? I find myself gravitating toward Asher once more, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
He's perched on the edge of the small vanity, touching up his eyeliner with practiced ease. I lean against the wall, watching him work.
"You know you don't have to do this, right?" I say softly. "We could find another way in. You don't have to put yourself out there like this."
Asher meets my gaze in the mirror, his expression softening. "I know. But this is the fastest way to get what we need. And I can handle a few hours of playing eye candy for some douchebag CEO. Besides, it makes me feel like a spy."
I sigh. "If you say so."
I watch Asher dart around the bus one last time, checking his reflection and adjusting his clothes with nervous energy like he's waiting for his prom date to show up.
"He'll be here," Damon says, though I'm not sure if he's trying to reassure Asher or himself.
I find myself hoping he's right. As much as I hate relying on some mysterious hacker we barely know, Echo—or "Alex," which I'm sure isn't his real name either—is our best shot at figuring out who's behind these attacks.
Knox emerges from the back, looking ready for war in all black. At least he's taking this seriously.
"You sure he knows where to meet us?" Damon asks, voicing the concern we're all thinking.
Asher nods emphatically. "I sent him our exact location. GPS coordinates and everything." He pauses, chewing his lower lip. "Plus a picture of the bus. And a description of the parking lot. And?—"
"We get it," Knox cuts him off, but there's a hint of fondness in his gruff tone. "You're thorough."
I catch Dante's eye across the bus, sharing a knowing look. We're all aware of how much Asher wants this to work out, and not just for the investigation. There's something about Echo that's gotten under his skin in a way I haven't seen before.
The thought makes my chest tight with an emotion I can't quite name. It's not jealousy—we've always been open about Asher's needs, his attraction to other omegas. But this feels different. Dangerous. And not just because Echo is the first beta he's ever shown an interest in.
"Maybe we should call him," Dante suggests, breaking through my brooding thoughts.
Asher shakes his head. "He hates phone calls."
"Of course he does," I mutter, earning myself an exasperated look from our omega.
"Be nice," Asher warns, but there's a playful glint in his violet eyes. "He's doing us a huge favor, remember?"
I'm about to point out that we don't actually know what his motives are when a sharp knock at the door makes us all freeze.
Here we go.