Knot My Band, Part One (Knot My Band #1)

Oli

PACK ‘EM UP GOSSIP COLUMN

FANS SPECULATE A ROMANCE BETWEEN OLI HART AND THE EDGE

May 23rd

T he four guys are gathered, waiting for me when I come out of my nest. There are at least ten wrapped presents around them.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Aiden’s smile is bright, Chase looks excited, Jack is content, and Dax’s face is blank.

“We got you some courting presents,” Jack explains.

I squeal and sit down on the couch.

“What can I open first?” I’m bouncing up and down in my seat.

I decide to ignore the elephant in the room, not wanting to put any pressure on Dax. Letting him decide how involved he wants to be.

Aiden hands me something covered in pink wrapping paper. I rip it open, and a pair of sparkly pink slippers tumble out.

They’re perfect and so soft.

“I love them, thank you. ”

I keep opening more and more to find soft, sweet, and cute gifts.

The next present Jack hands to me. It’s a stuffed polar bear that goes with all the others he’s gotten me. My collection is almost growing bigger than my nest can fit. I have one from each city we stop in.

“There’s one more,” Jack says, pulling out a smaller box.

I’m nervous to open it. Their excited energy has shifted into more nervousness.

Inside is a gold necklace that says, ‘The Edge’ in cursive writing.

I gasp. “It’s gorgeous. You want me to wear your name?”

“We do. It’s a small claiming if you’re willing?” Jack asks.

I turn around and pull my hair to the side. “I would love to.”

Chase presses a kiss to the spot where my scent is strongest before putting the necklace on me.

It feels like the moment might get steamy, but a knock on the door of the bus interrupts me.

“You’re late!” Riley shouts through the door.

I thank them one more time before we rush to get ready for the show.

* * *

The stage thrums with energy, a pulsating beat that syncs with the rhythm of my heart. I’m alive in the spotlight, every strum of Jack’s guitar an extension of my essence as I belt out lyrics that resonate with raw emotion. My bangs whip around my face, sticking to the sheen of sweat on my forehead. I catch the eye of someone in the front row, giving them a wink and a devilish grin .

But then, a sharp twinge in my belly—unexpected, fierce—cuts through the ecstasy. My breath hitches mid-chorus, and I falter, just for a second.

The crowd doesn’t seem to notice, so I push through, but I can feel the gaze of guys on me.

I plant my feet firmly, willing myself to power through the cramps that start to ripple through me. Another wave of dizziness washes over me, and I grip the microphone stand like a lifeline, my knuckles white. The spotlights above seem too bright all of a sudden, searing into my vision and making the world blur at the edges.

I’m hot. Too hot.

The audience doesn’t notice the internal battle raging within me; they’re still riding the high.

My voice cracks slightly on the next note, but I push through, leaning into the support of the music that’s always been my sanctuary. But even as I continue, my scent grows stronger.

That’s not right. I don’t want my scent but theirs. My alphas.

A bead of sweat trails down my temple, mingling with the rose gold strands plastered to my forehead.

I’m on the final song. I can do this.

The platform I’m on starts to lift, and I stumble. I’m not sure I can stay up here.

“Gotcha,” comes Jack’s voice, a grounded chord in the midst of my spinning world. His arms are suddenly there, steel bands around my waist, lifting me back to my feet. The warmth of his presence inches away burns hotter than the spotlights.

I nod, biting down on my lip, and wrench my focus back to the sea of faces before us. They’re clueless to the drama unfolding on stage, still lost in our music.

Jack’s scent, coffee and pastries, surrounds me and comforts me enough to let me finish the final song before I lose my mind completely.

Instead of letting the stage bring me under, Jack lifts me up and carries me off.

He sets me down, and the four of them surround me.

Backstage is a frenzy, a blur of faces and voices swirling around me as I struggle to keep my feet firmly planted. The heat coils within me, a treacherous serpent ready to strike. My scent, thick and sweet with an edge of urgency, wafts through the narrow corridors, drawing concerned glances from the crew.

I wrap my arms around Jack. “I need you.”

“Damn it, she smells like she’s going into heat,” Dax growls from behind us, his hazel eyes narrowing as he catches the full brunt of my scent. He’s close enough for me to see the concern etching lines into his usually impassive face. “We need to get her out of here, now.”

“Agreed,” says Jack. “This place is crawling with alphas. It’s only a matter of time before—”

“Before they start sniffing around for real,” Dax cuts him off, jaw set in a hard line. “Her suppressants aren’t holding up.”

I want to argue, to insist that I’m fine, but the cramps twisting in my gut say otherwise. Dax is right. I can’t risk staying here.

“Alpha, I need you,” I turn to the next alpha and try to get his help.

The cramps twist and pull at me, a relentless reminder that my body is calling for something I can’t ignore. The throb between my legs is insistent, demanding attention only a knot can satisfy .

“Alpha,” I pant as we stumble backstage, my voice coming out more like a plea than I intend. My senses are on fire, and every inch of my skin is screaming for contact, for relief.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Jack says, his voice a low rumble.

“Hotel,” Dax chimes in, tapping away on his phone. “There’s one five blocks from here. A heat suite is available. It’s designed for these situations—soundproof walls, complete privacy, everything needs.”

Chase picks me up, carrying me outside while the other alphas follow.

“Good thinking,” Chase murmurs, his breath hot on my ear. Despite the circumstances, I can’t help the flutter in my stomach when his lips graze my skin. He’s always been flirty, but tonight, there’s a tenderness to his actions that tugs at something deep inside me.

“Let’s move, then.” Jack scans the area, the ever-watchful guardian. “We do this quickly and quietly. Priority one is getting out without drawing attention. Chase, you take on the bus and try to talk to her about what she wants. We will get a car and be back.”

“Hey, it’s okay, little rose,” my caramel alpha says, his voice a soothing balm to the chaos in my mind. His hands are steady and warm as he guides me to the back bedroom, away from prying eyes. “I’ve got you, my sweet little omega.”

His sandy brown hair brushes against my forehead as he leans in, and I can feel his breath, hot and heavy with concern. He knows what I need, and there’s no judgment in his green eyes, just an unwavering promise to care for me.

“Please,” I whisper, the word barely escaping before his fingers find their way under my skirt.

Chase doesn’t hesitate. His touch is skilled and confident as he slips past the barrier of my panties, finding the slickness that’s been building since the first note I sang tonight. I gasp, my back arching off the plush seat, pressing into his hand like a lifeline.

Right now, it’s just us, his fingers moving in a rhythm that matches the pounding of my heart.

“Let go, . I’m here,” he assures me, his thumb circling with a pressure that sends sparks through my veins. It’s building, that crescendo that promises release, and I cling to him, nails digging into his forearm.

Fucking finally, I get to come. Pleasure so intense it blanks my mind crashing over me until I’m screaming.

“Good girl,” Chase breathes out, and the pride in his voice warms me even as I shudder, coming down from the high. He’s there, still holding me together as I float back to reality, my desire for a knot temporarily sated, but the underlying need is simmering beneath the surface.

I open my eyes to Chase’s concerned gaze, his green eyes searching mine for signs of distress.

“Better?” His voice is soft.

“Much,” I admit, a small smile playing on my lips. The urgency of before has ebbed away, leaving behind a clarity that won’t last long.

“,” he starts, hesitating as if choosing his words with care, “the heat isn’t over. You can have anything you want from us.” He pauses, his brow furrowed in concern. “Do you want us with you or for us to find you a safe place to go through it alone? Whatever you want.”

“Yes,” I find myself saying, my voice steady despite the drumbeat of nerves. “I want you there. All of you. I trust you.”

The relief on Chase’s face is palpable, and something warm blossoms in my chest at the sight. It’s a big step, one that might change everything, but as I look into his smoldering eyes, I know it’s the right one. Chase has always been a playboy, a charmer of the highest order, but with me, he’s different. He’s present, real in a way that tells me this isn’t just about the heat. It’s about connection.

“Okay, we’ve got you, ,” he promises, and I believe him.

And then, I’m lost to the heat.