Page 36 of Knot As It Seems

Something in my core erupts at the dirty words, squeezing the fuck out of Anderson’s knot as I pull at it, using small, precise movements to get us both off in the most efficient, but mind-altering way.

Anderson is a mess beneath me, all those sharp tendons I noticed a minute ago flexing once more, sweat practically pouring off of him as his knot gets abused.

Eventually I can’t help but collapse on top of him, clinging to Anderson’s chest as Calloway presses one more soft kiss to my shoulder before quietly leaving the room.

In the almost silence, when it’s just me and Anderson experiencing small gasps and aftershocks, I cling to him, burying my face that’s suddenly wet with tears against his neck, chasing the scent gland and the comforting softness of the skin there.

“I’ve got you, baby. We’re going to be unstoppable.”

Overwhelmed by three new bonds in less than twelve hours, the emotions and hormones racing through me are seeking ways to even out, but Anderson doesn’t berate me as I silently sob them out onto his chest. His rough hands hold me, pressing into my skin in various areas to make it feel almost like everyone else is here, too, keeping my omega content.

With his soothing scent thick in my lungs and the absolute bliss of such an intense knotting and bonding session, I give into the overwhelming need to drift off, knowing that when I wake up, I’ll be that much closer to taking the pack back from somebody that was supposed to protect me.

Eighteen

“You stay next to one of us at all times, omega, do you understand?”

I pause with my arm linked through Moon’s, glaring at him. The entire day, the pack has been pushing us together, trying to get us to form a relationship. If anyone had asked my opinion, I’d have told them it wouldn’t work because Moon has a stick so far up his ass that it’s affecting his ability to process human emotions.

“Of course,Alpha,” I say with a heavy dose of saccharine.

At least I’m out of the house, how novel.

“Moon! Over here! Is this your pack’s new omega? Smile, sweetheart! What’s your name?”

Even sneaking in the side entrance, we were spotted far too quickly. We’re at this big, fancy party that’s apparently being thrown in Clement’s honor to celebrate the launch of a new line of clothing he just released. Apparently, he’s a pretty big deal in the fashion world.

The party has been months in the making and since thewhole pack wanted to support him, they decided it was safe enough for me to attend. As long as I stayed glued to one of myalphas the entire time.

The original plan was for the whole pack to escort me in, but the beta man hired to do my hair and makeup went a little over schedule and Clement needed to be here and the pack sort of just got pulled in different directions. So, escorted by my dreamboat of an alpha, Moon, who just spoke more words to me than he has in days. Combined.

“Andbehaveyourself,” he angrily whispers into my ear.

I can play this game, though. I was raised in a purebred home where manners were king and if you couldn’t charm the pants off of any guest, then you weren’t allowed to associate with the family. I may have been young when the manners were drilled into me, but Winslow was good enough at reinforcing them when she wasn’t impressed by my outbursts.

There are photographers everywhere, people shouting questions at us, trying to get us to talk to them, but Moon keeps pulling me along, stiff and uncomfortable. To be fair, that might have something to do with the itching powder I rubbed all over the inside of his dress shirt. Can I be blamed though, that the pack has gorgeous rosebushes on their property that just so happen to be full of rosehips at the moment? It’s like they asked me to grind some up and dry them out for this purpose. Otherwise, why would they even have them? None of them strike me as a stop and smell the roses sort.

“Stunning, Omega! You do Clement’s gown justice! It’s like it was made just for your body. Tell me, what’s it like to be part of his pack?”

I stop, letting my arm fall from Moon’s, just because I can. I like to be complimented, and this random beta woman is the first person to tell me I look pretty since I slipped into this gown.

As soon as it’s clear I’m stopping for her, a bunch of cameras miraculously appear, snapping incessantly as I prop a hand on my hip and slip into a pose that feels showy. I look over my shoulder and wink at Moon, who seems equal parts irritated and turned on by the bare back of my slinky silver gown, then turn and blow a kiss to the reporter that asked the question.

“Would you believe that you’ve already complimented me more times than this stubborn guy behind me? Thank you so much, yes, isn’t the gown to die for? Clement actually did make this one just for me— we were up all night a few days ago pinning everything and adding embellishments. He’s the sweetest. He told me I wasn’t allowed to wear something that was exactly the same as anything else he’s made, so he added this bit of beading on my hip and the lace detail over the shoulder.”

Now that I’ve embarrassed Moon, he’s suddenly very interested in appearing to be a perfect alpha. He does a great job of pretending to care about me, stepping close and wrapping an arm around my hip, making me tilt my head back so he can press a kiss to my temple. “If I haven’t complimented you yet Fable, it’s because you take my breath away in this gown. How am I to compliment you when I don’t have air in my lungs? Isn’t she the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen? Let’s give them a little spin, shall we darling?”

Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we?

I oblige, mad he’s beating me at my own game. It’s not long before we continue our walk on the other side of the roped off section all the paparazzi are enclosed in like a crazed petting zoo, entering the actual event. It’s held in a large warehouse that’s been completely decked out for the occasion.

Like he always knew I’d be here, the ceiling is draped in real wisteria flowers that must have cost a fortune to import, the walls all covered in fabric panels in a similar material to my dress, making the room look like it’s hemmed in by liquid silver. There are cocktail tables scattered everywhere and servers carrying drinks and food that looks more decorative than edible, and in the very center of the room, dominating the space, is a massive catwalk where the models will walk down to show off Clement’s work. The sound of glasses clinking and conversation fills the space, almost making me feel like I’m in a different world.

It’s a little intimidating knowing Clement spends so much time surrounded by and touching beautiful women, mapping their bodies and being fawned over, but I refuse to be an insecure omega.

With my hair pinned behind my ear and big barrel curls running down my back, I look like I belong in a silent noir film. The makeup is a bit heavy, but I know the smoky shades the makeup artist used to enhance my eyes are doing their job, along with the precisely applied black eyeliner and mascara meant to make my eyes look twice as big as they usually are.

I feel beautiful, like a piece of art myself, but I would be stuck with the one alpha I don’t want to enjoy it with.