5
Phoenix
Working for one of New York’s top “fixers”
has had its challenges, but nothing compared to this.
From the moment I stepped foot on this godforsaken tour, I knew I was in trouble.
The tour was drowning in drugs and booze, and the band was bound to be a problem.
So far, I hadn’t been wrong.
They called me Princess, sometimes Doll.
My least favorite? Priss.
To them, my position was a joke.
I was the thorn in their side, the one standing between them and their fun, and they loved using names they knew I hated.
In their eyes, I was the uptight killjoy who didn’t know how to let loose.
What they didn’t realize was the thin line I walked every day to stay professional.
It was safer if they didn’t know who I really was anyway.
The tour was in full swing, but every day felt like a battle I wasn’t sure I was winning.
No matter how hard I tried to find my rhythm with the band, it was clear they had no intention of letting me in.
I was the outsider—an intruder forced into their world by the label.
And they made sure I knew it.
But the cruelest twist? It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to feel the pull of an Alpha, but this—this was something else entirely.
It wasn’t just physical; it felt primal, like my soul was reaching for theirs, desperate to be claimed.
For one stupid, fleeting moment, I had let myself hope.
The kind of hope I never should have entertained.
I’d spent years convincing myself that I didn’t need a pack, that I was better off alone.
But standing this close to them, breathing in their scents—scents that called to me in a way I couldn’t ignore—I’d faltered.
I should’ve known better.
Because the more I got to know them, the more I realized they weren’t the pack for me.
After all, how someone treated their staff was a damn good indicator of what kind of person they were. And they were treating me like shit.
The worst part? Being in such close proximity to my potential mates was wreaking havoc on my hormones.
Even with suppressants, my Omega was wild with need.
Every day, I had to take the edge off with a quick solo session while they were at sound check.
But on days like today, when I didn’t get the chance, it left me a highly strung ball of frustration.
The camera flashes were blinding, the air thick with the buzz of chatter and the sharp click of heels on the polished floors.
The public event was in full swing—a media day for Purely Onyx, meant to drum up hype for the rest of their tour.
It was my job to make sure everything ran smoothly, and as usual, I had my hands full trying to keep the band in line.
Zephyr, Kage, and Parker stood at the front, posing for photos like they were born to soak up the limelight.
Their dark, brooding personas were everything the media ate up, and they knew it.
Zephyr’s piercing blue eyes, framed by his jet-black hair, were like a magnet for the cameras.
Kage, with all blond hair and evergreen eyes and that permanent scowl, looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Parker, with his brown hair and laid-back smile, always managed to look both effortlessly cool and completely chaotic.
I stood off to the side, clipboard in hand, trying to keep things organized. It was harder than it looked. Every media outlet wanted a piece of them, and I had to make sure we were ready for any surprises. But as usual, the band had their own ideas about how things should go.
“Hey, Phoenix.”
David, the label rep, sidled up to me, smirking. He was a short, balding man in a too-tight suit, the kind of guy who reveled in the messes Purely Onyx caused because it kept his pockets full.
“You must have the toughest job in the industry. Keeping these guys in line? Practically impossible.”
“It’s a challenge, but that’s what I’m here for.”
David let out a short laugh, loud enough to catch the attention of the band. “A challenge? More like babysitting. Come on, we all know what this is. You’re here to make sure they don’t burn the whole place down. Or worse, embarrass the label.”
Zephyr’s head turned, catching the exchange. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and I could see the gears turning in his head. Of course, he wouldn’t let an opportunity like this go by.
“Oh, don’t worry, Dave,”
Zephyr called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Phoenix is doing a great job. She’s the best babysitter we’ve had so far.”
The band burst into laughter, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I kept my face composed, but inside, my frustration brewed. Babysitter. The one word they loved to use to reduce everything I did to a joke. Zephyr shot me a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me.
Parker leaned in, his spiced orange and cinnamon scent teasing me. “Yeah, gotta hand it to her. She’s stuck around longer than the others. Maybe she’s tougher than she looks.”
“Tougher or just too uptight to leave?”
Kage muttered, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes gleaming with disdain. His voice was low, meant to cut deep without drawing too much attention, but I heard it.
I stood there, holding my clipboard a little tighter than necessary, trying not to show how much their words grated on me.
This was just another day with Purely Onyx.
With any other client, I could ignore the constant taunts and jabs, but from my scent matches, every cruel word felt like a barb straight to the heart.
“I’m just here to do my job,”
I said, keeping my voice steady, ignoring the way their laughter made me feel small in front of the flashing cameras. “If that means babysitting, then so be it.”
“Oh, come on, Princess,”
Zephyr said, stepping closer to me. He loomed over me, his presence suffocating in its intensity. “We’re not that bad, are we?”
“Depends on the day,”
I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. His grin widened, clearly enjoying the little bite in my tone. The band’s amusement was palpable, and I could feel the eyes of onlookers, of the press, on us.
David clapped Zephyr on the back, still laughing. “Well, whatever keeps them in check, Phoenix. You’re doing something right.”
I forced a tight smile, nodding curtly. “Thanks, David.”
The rest of the event dragged on, with more photos, more interviews, more subtle digs at my expense. Every time the band opened their mouths, I braced myself for another joke, another attempt to belittle me. To them, I was nothing. No more than an obstacle in their way.
By the time the event finally wrapped up, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The band was still laughing among themselves as they headed back toward the bus, and I followed a few steps behind, my chest tight with the familiar frustration that seemed to follow me everywhere on this tour.
As I watched them, their carefree attitudes on full display, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep doing this. How long before I snapped? Because if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that they were testing me. And sooner or later, I was going to fail.
Tonight had been one big joke at my expense. I’d had enough.
As soon as Zephyr stepped off the sidewalk toward the bus, I quickened my pace, determination replacing the frustration that had been simmering inside me all night. My pulse raced, but I refused to let it show. I wasn’t going to let him—or any of them—see me break.
“Zephyr,”
I called out, my voice sharp enough to slice through the laughter. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes gleaming with curiosity, as if he was amused that I’d finally spoken up.
I closed the distance between us, trying to keep my composure in check. “We need to talk.”
He turned fully toward me now, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made his muscles flex beneath his dark shirt. His tattoos peeked out from under the sleeves, swirling up his arms in intricate, foreboding patterns. Zephyr was every bit the poster boy for a bad-boy rock star, and he knew it.
“What’s up, Princess?”
He leaned back against the side of the bus, one eyebrow raised in that signature, cocky way of his. “Something on your mind?”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m not here to be ridiculed. My job is to keep you and the band on track, not to be treated like some joke.”
His lips curled into a smirk, as if he found my words amusing. He didn’t even try to hide it. “Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun. Don’t take everything so seriously, Phoenix. Loosen up a bit.”
“Loosen up?”
I crossed my arms, mirroring his stance, though I felt far less confident. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things under control when you’re constantly undermining me? You don’t have to make it more difficult than it already is.”
Zephyr chuckled under his breath and took a slow step forward. My pulse spiked, but I forced myself to stand my ground, refusing to let him intimidate me. I wasn’t going to back down now, not after everything he’d pulled.
“You really are good at this ‘perfect Beta’ act, aren’t you?”
he said, his voice dropping lower, almost teasing.
My heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, I wondered if he knew. I shook off the thought. There was no way.
“What are you talking about?”
I kept my voice even, but inside, panic was starting to bubble up.
Zephyr took another step forward, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine. The space between us shrank to almost nothing, and I tried not to whimper at the leather and fresh rain surrounding me. My throat tightened as he invaded my personal space.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,”
he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “This little PR facade you’ve got going on. The perfectly controlled, always professional Phoenix. You’re hiding something.”
I stiffened, forcing myself to meet his gaze, but the accusation in his tone sent a chill down my spine. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know.
“I’m not hiding anything,”
I said. “I’m just doing my job.”
Zephyr smirked, leaning in closer until his breath brushed against my cheek. “Really? You expect me to believe that? Come on, Phoenix. You can’t be this buttoned-up all the time. There’s something else going on under that polished, professional exterior.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. His presence was overwhelming, his Alpha energy pressing in on me like a heavy fog. I could feel it pulling at the edges of my control, testing the walls I’d spent years building.
“I’m just trying to keep things running smoothly,”
I said. “You and the rest of the band are making that impossible.”
Zephyr chuckled again, clearly enjoying the way he was getting under my skin. “Maybe we just like seeing how far we can push you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse raced in response to his nearness. “Is that it? You think it’s fun to make my job harder?”
“Oh, it’s not just fun,”
he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s fascinating. Watching you try so hard to keep up this act when I can tell there’s something else underneath. Something you don’t want anyone to see.”
Zephyr’s words cut too close to the truth, and I couldn’t let him dig any deeper.
“You don’t know anything about me,”
I snapped, finally stepping back and putting distance between us. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to figure me out.”
Zephyr’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with challenge. “We’ll see about that, Princess.”
◆◆◆
The tour bus rumbled beneath my feet as it sped down the highway, making its way to the next venue in Seattle.
The narrow space of the small bathroom felt claustrophobic, but it was the only place I could steal some privacy.
I leaned against the wall, my back pressed against the cool tile, the shower running to mask the sound of my voice as I whispered into my phone to my sisters.
“I swear to God,”
I muttered, running a hand through my hair, “they’re all entitled assholes. It’s like they go out of their way to make this job hell.”
“Then quit, Phoenix. You don’t need this. Just tell your boss to shove it and come home already.”
I could practically hear Raven rolling her eyes through the phone.
I smirked at her bluntness. Of course Raven would say that. She’d always been the wild one, the firebrand who acted first and thought later. But as tempting as her advice sounded, I knew I couldn’t just walk away. Not yet.
“You know it’s not that simple, Raven. I can’t just bail.”
“Why not? You don’t owe them anything,”
Raven shot back. “If I were you, I’d be on the first flight out. Screw the band and screw your boss.”
Wren’s voice cut in before I could respond, her tone much calmer, more reasonable. “Raven, stop. Phoenix isn’t going to quit just because things are tough right now. Right, Phoenix?”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, Wren. I’m not quitting. Not yet, anyway.”
“See?”
Wren continued. “Phoenix, you’re tough. You can handle this. You’ve gotten through worse things than a bunch of rock star brats. Just hang in there a little longer.”
I smiled despite myself. Wren knew exactly when I needed a pep talk and when I needed space. If only they knew this was much more than dealing with unruly clients.
“Yeah, I know,”
I muttered, feeling a bit guilty for not telling my sisters the whole truth. “I just needed to vent.”
Raven huffed. “You don’t need to vent; you need to tell them off. I swear, if I ever meet them, I’m going to punch their pretty rocker faces.”
I snorted, a laugh bubbling up despite myself. “I’d pay to see that.”
Talking to them like this felt good—natural, like no time had passed.
Even after all these years, our bond remained unshakable.
Though we were not biological sisters, we had been adopted into each other's lives, growing up together in an Omega house, an orphanage for Omegas.
Our den mother, Mercy, had named all six of us after birds—a little cheesy, maybe, but I loved it.
It meant we were always connected, no matter where life took us. They weren’t just my childhood friends; they were my sisters.
“Look,”
Wren said, her voice pulling me back to the present. “You’ve only got a couple more months left on this tour, right? Just keep your head down, do your job, and once it’s over, you can tell your boss you’re done.”
“I know,”
I murmured, glancing toward the bathroom door. One of the guys had started banging on it, clearly impatient to get in. “I’m trying.”
“They don’t deserve you,”
Raven chimed in. “Just remember that.”
I smiled again, warmth filling my chest. Even when things felt like they were falling apart, my sisters were always there to remind me that I had people in my corner.
There was another loud thud on the door, followed by an irritated voice from the other side. “Phoenix, come on! Hurry the hell up!”
I sighed, rolling my eyes. “I’ve got to go. One of the assholes is demanding the bathroom.”
“Figures,”
Raven muttered. “Tell them to piss off.”
“Be careful,”
Wren added, her voice soft but laced with concern. “And call us if you need anything, okay?”
“Will do. I’ll talk to you both soon,”
I said, ending the call and slipping my phone into my pocket.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself before opening the bathroom door. Kage stood there, arms crossed, his expression a mix of irritation and impatience.
“Took you long enough,”
he muttered, brushing past me as I stepped aside. I didn’t bother responding. I’d wasted enough energy on them for one night.
As I made my way to my bunk, the hum of the bus vibrating beneath my feet, I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to make it through the rest of this tour. But Wren was right. I’d been through worse, and I wasn’t about to let some entitled rock stars break me.
Not yet, anyway.