Page 54 of Knot Your Business

The other woman beams as she sits across from me. Rylan settles on my left, Faedra already sitting on my right. Jasper sits next to him, his hand high on Rylan’s upper thigh. The others settle in around us, one of Liz’s Alphas grabbing a couple extra chairs from where they’re sitting in the corners of the room beside the large front windows.

“Grazie, Huntley,” Bianca says. “Now let’s eat before the men get here.”

Twenty-Five

RYLAN

Irap my knuckles on the doorframe of Violet’s new room, not wanting to intrude. Jasper just left to take Faedra back to the dorms, and I’m not sure if Violet is the type of Omega who needs downtime after so many people being around her.

She disappeared quickly after dinner, intent on getting as much of her stuff sorted before helping Faedra get packed up tomorrow. Bianca, Huntley, and Liz stuck around for a while, helping her get situated more thoroughly than Jasper and I could have ever managed. Between the four of them, not only is her room nearly completely unpacked, but her nest is complete, too, with the last couple items on order. Women are fucking terrifying.

The large couch that took up most of this room is now pressed up against the far wall of glass, a large bed sitting against the wall to my right, the metal frame feeling nearly delicate in the space. The setting sun reflects off the water, illuminating the room in an orange glow that highlights her skin and black hair.

Goddamn, she’s beautiful.

She glances up from where she’s sorting through a pile of pictures on the bed, the last couple boxes surrounding her.

“Everything all right?” I ask, leaning against the threshold, crossing my arms.

She’s taken off her scent blockers. Honeysuckle permeates the room, and I breathe deeply, trying to enjoy it without coming across as an absolute creep. It’s different than when she was at the Haven, an edge to it missing that keeps me from being a mindless, possessive asshole. It’s not something I could even really name, just a piece inherently present in an Omega’s scent when they go into heat.

A growl rumbles through my chest before I can reign it in.

“Oh, sorry,” she murmurs. “I can turn on the purifier.”

She stands in one fluid motion, sliding off the edge of the bed, her slip of a dress falling to mid-thigh, the black silk moving like water over her body. My half-interested dick is fully invested in the span of a heartbeat, pushing against my gray sweats without a hint of shame. She’s halfway across the room before I remember how to speak.

“Don’t you dare,” I say, though it comes out low and rough and dangerously close to a growl. She glances over at me, an eyebrow cocked. “It’s your room. You don’t need to change anything about it for me.”

She tilts her head and messes with her dress, smoothing it over her stomach and down her hips. After a few moments, she clears her throat and grabs the pictures. The dress rides up her thighs, and I can’t help but groan. When she glances over her shoulder, her cheeks dark, I adjust my dick so it’s not quite so painful.

“Do you want to come in?” she asks, suddenly shy.

Shutting the door softly behind me, I cross the room and drop onto the couch. “How can I help you out?”

She shrugs. “Not really much to do at the moment. The movers did all the heavy work. I haven’t decided which pictures to put up yet, so there’s not even frames you could hang right now.”

I nod as she puts the pictures in one of the boxes and then moves both to the bench sitting at the foot of her bed. “How are you feeling?”

She glances up at me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The light reflects off her industrial piercing. “Feeling about what?”

“Everything,” I say, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “The match. The move. The graduation ceremony. The motions filed by your mom.”

Surprise flashes across her face, and her mouth drops open for a moment before she recovers and clears her throat.

“I didn’t realize Jasper told you,” she says, messing with the top of one of the boxes, keeping her eyes away from me.

“He wanted to know if there was anything we could do about it,” I say, gentling my voice.

She feels cornered again.

After a minute, she nods. “Unless I sign the motion, it won’t go anywhere. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Do you want me to worry about it, though? You don’t have to deal with it alone.”

Her gaze snaps to me, confusion lowering her eyebrows. “Why would you?”

I shrug and lean back, forcing myself to relax. “We’re matched, aren’t we? Isn’t this part of the relationship process?”

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