Page 118 of Knot My Sin

“Excuse me, can I have your attention please,” Patrick Ryan roars from the front of the room. Our hosts tonight, Pack Kelly, have been mysteriously absent most of the night, but now I see them on the outskirts of the room. They appear to be bored and unaffected by the party, which I’m sure they probably don’t give two shits about mafia drama.

The din of chatter in the room dulls as everyone turns to face him.

“We’ve gathered here today for several reasons,” Patrick says, flanked by his wife. She's wearing a red dress, her bleach-blonde hair in an old Hollywood curled style. “The first one is because it has been too long since we’ve all been together for any reason. It’s important to remember the reason why peace amongst us is so important. Chaos and violence within our own communities leads to the death of our loved ones, and that’s unacceptable.”

The man is not pulling punches, and I scowl into Wren’s shoulder as I wrap my arm around her waist. Breathing her in helps me school my expression, again the picture of grace with no fucks to give. It makes for a decent poker face when I need it.

“Crowson and Corbin Murphy, please come join me,” Patrick says, his tone brooking no argument. He raised four alpha sons, I’m sure he’s used to dealing with bullshit like this.

Crowson flanks our right as he passes us, turning to look at Wren for longer than he has a reason to, as his nostrils flare. My alphas growl at his attention, making him flinch as he moves faster away from us. I wonder why he was staring at her, and decide I’m definitely following Wren everywhere tonight.

Even the bathroom if it comes to it.

“Tonight, we are going to find a way to help these two brothers move past their hurt,” Patrick says, as if he’s a fucking therapist. “We will be using the ballroom for this, and all alphas who will be helping in this discussion are asked to stay behind.”

“If you’re like myself, and have no use for the men’s talk, we will be exiting into the garden and sitting areas, while they work through this,” Patrick’s wife says.

Shaw snorts under his breath, turning his back on them both as he faces us.

“The garden is an area we can still see you for the most part. It’s a nice night, I think you two should take in some air,” he says with a smirk.

Wren nods, understanding his words, while Jasper frowns as he looks around.

“Does everyone think they’re going to kumbaya and magically figure this shit out?” he asks in a low tone.

“Apparently,” Everest grunts. “I’m just here to be the muscle tonight.”

“Same,” Amb mutters. “As long as no one shoots or stabs each other, it’ll be considered a success by me.”

“Just throw them in the ring and let them beat it out of each other. I feel as if that’s a better use of energy, rather than this excuse of a party,” Jasper says, nodding toward the French doors that are currently opening to lead to the garden. “Let’s head out then.”

Even though I agree with him, I say nothing, placing my hand on Wren’s back as we walk toward the door. Neither of us say goodbye to our alphas, because they’re already in work mode, the light in their eyes fading to nothing as they watch the crowd.

Wren’s paperwork declaring to be our omega went through this morning, which gives us a modicum of protection. My eyes still catch Crowson ogling Wren’s ass as he texts someone on his phone, making my fingers twitchy. I may not enjoy engaging in violence, but I won’t hesitate to throw the alpha to someone who will happily make him wish he was never born.

Once outside, it’s as if Wren draws people to her like a light in the darkness.

“Head high, Wren,” Jasper grunts beside her. “No hiding tonight. I know you’ve perfected a mask in times you’ve needed it.”

Blinking at his astuteness, I glance at Wren as she draws up all five-foot-four of herself in heels and smiles. It’s not a real one, but more of a detached look for the public eye, and it gives me a glimpse at what her life was like as a captive omega.

“I see Pack Mohan has a new omega,” Jodi Ryan says as she steps in front of us. Jasper stares her down by Wren’s side, ensuring she keeps their distance. “Where did they find you? I’m surprised Flynn hasn’t scratched your eyes out yet.”

Swallowing back a groan because while she’s a pain in the ass, she’s not dangerous to us, I wrap my arm around Wren’s waist to pull her closer to me. She allows it, snuggling into my body. I’m glad she’s leading with her own instincts, because this is definitely a time to let her cute little omega flag fly.

I want to scent mark her badly, but I also don’t want to fuck up her makeup, so I simply tilt her face up, so that I can brush my lips against hers.

“Why would I scratch her eyes out when Wren is mine?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Jodi at all times. “I claimed her before my alphas, pulled to her in a way I can’t quite explain. She’s Shaw’s scent match, and completes our pack in a way we didn’t know we needed.”

Jodi’s eyes widen as she realizes this is a fated match, and not anything she can make fun of. Some things, even in mafia circles, are considered sacred.

“I had no idea,” she breathes. “I guess congratulations to you all are in order. Is it all official? You know how some of the unbonded alphas are here.”

Fucking Neanderthals, she means.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say politely. “Everything was confirmed this morning. Wren Rivers is part of Pack Mohan.”

“Wonderful,” Jodi says with a wide smile. “Things are already a bit difficult right now, I’d hate to have to gut an alpha who decided to touch what doesn’t belong to him.”

---