Page 12 of Knot Your Business

My body shudders out an orgasm as I bite my lip hard enough to bleed, the small vibrations of my favorite vibrator nearly identical to the soft aftershocks pulsing down my legs.

No. I absolutely have not been successful.

I pull the small device away as my body grows sensitized and turn it off, letting myself relax into the bed even as my scent stays reasonably controlled. Thank the gods we live in LA where I can actually open the windows in the spring. Just another reason I can’t stand Seattle.

That and not having to interact with my mother more than absolutely necessary.

Thoughts of my mom drive away the lingering weightless feel induced by my vibrator and memories of Rylan’s knot. Before I can do much more than sigh, there’s two knocks on the door followed by Faedra’s soft voice, just like always.

“Vi, I know you’re in there. Can I come in, please?”

Shit.

I fly off the bed as I curse, cleaning the small pink bullet before tucking it into my nightstand and then throwing on a set of ripped jeans and the faded Florence + The Machine hoodie I’ve had since seeing them in concert when I was sixteen. My cheeks are still flushed when I open the door, but there’s not much to be done for it.

Faedra’s dressed in her typical floral skirt, her hair braided back and falling over one shoulder. Her eyebrow rises as she takes me in, and I scrunch my nose in a grimace.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been hot and bothered, too, Fae,” I mumble.

She leans against the doorframe and messes with her waistband.

“Wasn’t going to, Vi. Just didn’t realize that you were busy. You could have told me to wait.”

Not like I was actually in the middle of anything, though. And if I had just laid there for much longer, I would have ended up needing another round. And the amount of times I’ve needed to decompress with my vibrator over the last four days is honestly embarrassing. Especially since he didn’t even want me to meet his pack.

Probably because his pack includes Jasper fucking Miller.

Montegue. That’s what Rylan’s badge said. Jasper Montegue has a stupid good ring to it, if I’m being honest.

Ignoring the stab in my gut, I wave off her concern and cross the room to my desk, grabbing the nondescript envelope that’s been perched there since being handed to me early this morning.

“Did you get yours, too?” I ask, holding the blank envelope so she can see it. When she replies, my shoulders slump. “Finally. I’ve been staring at mine all morning.” When I haven’t been chasing the high I felt while knotted with Rylan, at least. My cheeks heat. “I didn’t want to open it alone.”

I drop onto my bed in an ungraceful lump, and Faedra settles next to me, her movements so fluid the bed doesn’t even jostle with her weight. She balances her own notice on her knee and messes with her hair, undoing it and then pulling it back fully into a new braid.

“What is it?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t remember reading about this step.”

Maybe talking it through will help my nerves.

“They’ve settled on a list of packs for us and want us to rank them.”

I rip open the notice and pull both sheets of paper from it, ignoring the blank one that’s waiting for my ranking the packs and focusing instead on the list of cities.

Annapolis. Albany. Seattle. Bozeman. Los Angeles.

My breath catches.

“These are cities,” Faedra says, her voice a mixture of confusion and offense.

I can’t help but laugh.

“The Council tries to keep outside influences from interfering with the matches.”

I set my list next to hers. None of our cities match. It’s not surprising, but my stomach still twists at the first permanent marker of our being separated in just a few weeks.

I keep my voice light. “By giving us cities, it decreases the chance of someone outside of the packs manipulating potential final pairings.”

Faedra blows out a breath, almost like a breathless scoff. “Outside influences like your mom?”

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