Page 2 of Knot My Band: Part Two
Chase leans down again, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and I do the same to her hand, my lips lingering on her knuckles. Dax stays still, his hand twitching as if fighting the urge to join in on our small acts of intimacy to claim his share of her attention.
Aiden is tracing patterns on her legs, feeling her warm skin under his hands.
The air is thick with our collective tension, and I can’t shake off the feral need that’s coursing through me. Oli’s lying here between us, looking so damn fragile, and all I want is to shield her from the world.
“We are going to have to let someone check her out,” Aiden grumbles, his voice low and strained as he looks at his phone. He’s practical as always, even when his alpha instincts are ripping at him to protect and claim.
He’s right, but hell if I can stand the thought of some stranger coming in here, laying hands on my omega.
“Nobody outside the pack,” I growl, my gaze fixed on Oli’s serene face. She’s everything soft and bright in this gritty life we’ve carved out on the road, and the mere idea of anyone else touching her… No, I can’t deal with that.
“There’s a doctor outside the bus. Riley vetted her, and Oli needs to be looked at. We can keep our eyes on her at all times,” Aiden suggests.
The beast within me is pacing, claws out, ready to tear into anyone who dares come close to Oli. But she needs to be looked at by a doctor, and I know I gotta check myself.
“Fine,” I force out.
Aiden nods and texts something.
I pivot on my heel, every muscle taut as the door swings open, and the female doctor steps in with a ponytail and sharp, assessing eyes that miss nothing. She’s all brisk efficiency, her medical bag clutched in one hand as she makes a beeline for Oli.
“Make way, gentlemen,” she says, her voice clear and authoritative. She brooks no arguments.
I can feel the struggle in our pack bond, but we all step back just enough to let her get close, except for Dax, who keeps holding her. I want to take his place more than I want to breathe, but by some miracle, I hold back.
“Let’s see how you’re doing, young lady,” she murmurs to Oli, her professional demeanor not slipping for a second even as she uses a term of endearment that sends an unexpected pang through my chest.
“Take care of her,” I find myself saying, the words rough-edged and more command than a request.
“Always do,” Dr. Shores replies without taking her eyes off Oli, the sense of urgency wrapped around her like a cloak. I can’t help but respect her for it, even as my alpha side growls at the proximity of another to our omega.
She’s a beta, which helps. I couldn’t handle another alpha.
I hover near Oli like a silent sentinel, close enough to catch her scent but far enough to give Dr. Shores space to work.
My stare is locked on Oli, and I track every flicker of discomfort that crosses her expressive green eyes. The tour bus feels cramped with tension, and I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out.
“Alright, Oli, I need you to tilt your head back for me,” Dr. Shores instructs gently. She clicks on a small penlight and peers into Oli’s throat, her brow furrowing in concentration.
“Deep breaths through your nose, okay?” the doctor continues, her voice steady as a heartbeat, even as her fingers probe cautiously around Oli’s neck.
Oli complies, the rise and fall of her chest rhythmic and controlled, but I can see the way she swallows hard, the subtle grimace that tells me it hurts more than she lets on. It’s like a punch straight to my gut, this overwhelming urge to sweep herup and away from any pain. But I stay put, my feet rooted to the spot because she needs the doctor, not my caveman antics.
Chase grips the back of the couch with white knuckles, preventing him from going to Oli.
“Can you vocalize for me?” asks Dr. Shores. “A soft hum will do.”
Oli hums. Although her voice is a bit raspy, it still sounds like the sweetest melody. The doctor nods, satisfied, and jots notes on her clipboard.
“Looks like there’s some swelling, but I don’t see any serious damage. Your vocal cords have been through a lot, so they’ll need time to heal. The bruising is going to look worse than the injury is. She was released before any serious damage.” she explains, switching off her penlight.
“Keep an eye on her breathing, and make sure she rests her voice,” Dr. Shores adds, giving us a look that’s all business.
“We will,” I say as relief floods through me.
“My voice will heal, though?” Oli asks, voice raspy.
The doctor’s face softens. “It will, but you need to give it time. Do not sing until you’re checked over again. I can recommend some doctors for whatever city you’re in.”
