Page 25 of Knot Your Business

“Her mom wanted her on suppressants to keep her heat from emerging, said it was to keep her safe while she was finishing high school, but V-Vi—” He trips over her name and clears his throat. “Violet thought it probably had more to do with controlling what Alphas she interacted with. You know how vulnerable they are when they’re in heat.”

I move to stand next to him, pressing my lips into the nape of his neck, soothing him with my touch when words would never be enough. The tension slowly ebbs from his body, his weight pressing back against me, his temple resting against mine.

“So tell me what went wrong, why you ended up here with us at the philharmonic instead of staying in Seattle with her.”

He does, each word more heartbreaking than the last, until he’s completely limp in my arms.

I need another cigarette, and then I need to bury myself in a bottle of whiskey even though I know getting blackout drunk is just asking for problems. Because this rift between them? I’m not sure it’s fixable.

Twelve

VIOLET

Faedra sets the plate of chocolate covered fruit on the coffee table before handing me my favorite mug.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I say as she sits beside me on the sofa.

Her eyebrows are drawn low, her lips pulled down in her concern. “Of course I did. You’re my best friend.”

My smile is less forced than the others I’ve given today. She leans her head on my shoulder. “Did you unblock him?”

“This morning,” I say. Jasper’s not overly active on socials, mostly just reposting from other friends. It was still enough to get a crash course of the last six months of his life, though. “He plays for the philharmonic. And he’s been with Rylan and the other Alpha since the fall.”

Unless the dates on the photos are off, they hooked up shortly after my heat.

It shouldn’t sting, and it certainly shouldn’t make me jealous. The Haven was literally his job. He got paid to knot me until my heat subsided. Doesn’t mean that I’m actually rational about it. The fact that Jasper has gotten Rylan these last months while I’ve been dreaming of his knot and whatever citrus scent he has just makes it burn more.

“Guess it’s lucky we didn’t end up seeing that candlelight performance last November then,” Faedra murmurs. “That would’ve been a shitty way to end the night. And then we wouldn’t have gone out for ice cream and seen that blood moon.”

I can’t help but laugh, glancing at the print of said moon that’s hung on her door. “You nailed that photo, so I can’t be upset either.” And she did. She’s won two different photo competitions with that print.

A notification sounds on my computer, and I pull it toward me. Faedra stands from the sofa and heads toward her room. “Text me if you need me.”

“Of course, Fae,” I murmur, clicking the provided link from the Council. It takes me to a meeting with only one person, the woman who’s been assigned to my matching. “Hello, Mary.”

“Good evening, Ms. Fallon.” She offers me a quick smile that isn’t quite warm. “The pack is just finalizing their set-up with my coworker. I’ll get you connected to them as soon as possible. Do you have any questions for me?”

I look over my shoulder, making sure Faedra’s door is closed.

“About annulment…” I start.

The woman’s eyes grow sharp as she answers my questions.

“You’re sure?” I ask again, nerves making my throat tight.

She nods again. “Absolutely, Ms. Fallon.”

I blow out a breath and nod. “All right. Thank you.”

She looks at something else on her screen. “They’re ready. Are you?”

“Yes, Mary. Thank you.”

She does something on her end, and then there’s suddenly two new boxes, Mary’s face nowhere to be seen. A young man stares at me out of one screen. I vaguely recognize him as the man Faedra’s been talking to about her own match. The other screen contains them.

Dominic sits in the middle, a heavy scowl making his features seem nearly severe, his cheekbones sharp and his lips literal perfection. He’s in an identical black button-up and pair of slacks that he had in the picture. Rylan’s hair is messier than the photo and the gala, and maybe a little bit longer, too. The hoodie he wears has Snow Patrol scrawled along the chest. His gaze is guarded but not actively hostile.

It takes all my willpower to take in the third person. Jasper’s hair is longer now, a couple strands dropping across his forehead. His blue eyes are just as striking, though. He’s wearing a simple gray t-shirt. The metallic reflection of a necklace catches the light, but it’s tucked under his collar, so I can’t see what’s at the end of it. I force my breathing to stay calm and my face into a blank, half-there smile. Something that takes little effort.

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