Page 99 of Knot Your Business

“Sleep, Sirena,” he says. “You’re safe here.”

He feels warm. He feels safe. He feels… like home.

And so I do.

I awake all at once, sucking in a hard gasp as reality crashes back into me. Memories flood me, too fast for me to do more than see flashes of them. Arriving at the fundraising event, Jasper’s worried gaze as I told him I wasn’t feeling well, my mom cornering me until I was helpless to fight her, the awful floral scent of the Alpha that found me in the bathroom. And then Rylan’s careful touch. My dad’s devastation as Dominic carried me through the hotel.

Dominic… the flash of heat through my body accompanies the memory of him pressing up into me, forcing his knot into me in the back of the car as the heat overwhelmed me entirely.

Dominic, who hates being an Alpha.

Hates heats.

Hates me.

I don’t realize I’m crying until an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me into the hard, warm flesh of a man’s shirtless body. My body relaxes, still functioning nearly entirely on instinct. Scents mingle in the air, mine the strongest among them. I suck in a breath, trying to get my bearings in the room.

I freeze as the undiluted grapefruit scent overwhelms me.

“Ti sono vicina, Sirena.”

Dominic’s voice is low enough it rumbles through me, vibrating against my cheek. A flash of desire burns through my body, but I stiffen against it. The haze of the heat is gone, and the memory of his anger when we knotted in the kitchen floods me without my urging. His arm tightens on my waist as his hand trails up my spine.

“Non piangere. Andrà tutto bene,” he murmurs.

I don’t understand the words, the Italian phrases not ones I’ve heard him say before. His lips brush my temple as he sets soft kisses into my hair. Like he’s worried about me. Like he wants to make sure I’m safe. Like he wants to protect me.

Confusion settles in my stomach.

The door opens with a near-silent click.

“Oh, sorry,” Rylan says, exhaustion in his voice. “I didn’t realize you were already in here.”

The words float over my skin, adding to my confusion.

“She’s all right?” he asks. “You’ve got her?”

Dominic murmurs a soft yes and then the door closes.

I have no idea what to say, what to ask, all the memories blurring together into a jumbled mess, making me hesitate to break the silence. Fear overlays most of them, a bone deep feeling of being unsafe, alone, with no one able to find me.

I sob, crossing my arms over my stomach. Fuck, I hate feeling helpless.

“What do you need, Sirena?” Dominic asks as a warm hand brushes away some of the tears. The thread of comfort through his words relaxes me, my body responding to the Alpha’s desire to soothe. “Your scent is changed. Do you need food? Or a bath?”

I suck in a breath and force myself away from him. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t even want to tolerate me being involved with Rylan or Jasper. He’s not safe. Regardless of if he knotted me during my heat. Regardless of if he was angry at Eric for nearly forcing me at the hotel. It can’t change anything. It doesn’t change anything. The rage would have been normal, an expected reaction from the force of my induced heat.

He doesn’t fight me as I wrap the blanket around me like it’s the only armor I have. Which it is. I flinch at the thought.

The room is dim, the curtains pulled across the large windows overlooking the backyard. My chest shudders with my ragged breathing, the confusion giving way to the horrible need to be touched and held and comforted. It’s always the worst immediately after a heat, as if the several days long sex-fest isn’t already enough to satisfy the instincts. Maybe it is for other Omegas.

“Violet?” Dominic’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

I drop my gaze to his and tighten the blanket around me, putting more distance between us before I throw myself at his feet and beg for intimacy he refuses to give. His eyes are dark and his gaze unreadable as he watches me move. A sheet haphazardly covers his hips and legs, and his hair is unruly with sleep. Hickeys cover his shoulders and neck, and my stomach clenches.

I refuse to be embarrassed. Refuse. But it’s a near thing.

“What time is it?” It’s a miracle my voice doesn’t shake. “What day even is it?”

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