Page 8 of Knot Your Business

Tucking my hands into the pockets of my slacks, I look around the room more intently. The Omegas are starting to congregate around the cocktail tables as the lines at the two separate bars dwindle. A flash of bright green silk catches my gaze, and I follow it across the room, oddly invested in figuring out who was bold enough to wear something like that to this. She twists away from one of the tall inner tables, a redheaded woman holding up a simple black clutch in some unspoken response.

There’s no pin anywhere on her dress. An Omega was bold enough to pick that dress?

I let my gaze drift up to her face, and my breath catches.

It’s been six months, and I’m happily paired off. Triplet-ed off. Whatever. But, fuck, I can still smell that honeysuckle sometimes in my dreams, I swear. I still catch myself thinking of her hazel eyes and black hair and golden, smooth as fuck skin.

And there’s no fucking way she can end up paired with us. Dominic will kill us both if we somehow manage to end up shortlisted. I need to hear her laugh, though. I need to know what she sounds like when she’s not in the depths of a heat and moaning because of my knot.

It’s completely unrealistic and borderline insanity. There are no soulmates, no perfect matches. Nothing waiting in the wings to justify bringing her into our little triad. But I’m as captivated by her as I was with Jasper when he first joined the orchestra. Did that situation have a happy ending? Yes. Eventually.

I’m under no illusion that this one will. It’s not like anything will even happen tonight, even if she wants it to. But the memory of her curves forming to my hands, of her writhing against me, is too strong and visceral to simply ignore. Not without making a giant fucking scene, and God knows Dominic will do that for the three of us without me helping him.

Bergamot bleeds out from me, my scent rising in response to my thoughts. Jasper leans into me and hums. Tearing my gaze away, I focus on my lover and best friend. Jasper’s eyes are half-lidded, his lips tipped into a soft smile. Dominic’s lips have turned fully into a frown, his gaze cold and sharp.

“Fuck it, Jas,” I say, talking over whatever new curse Dominic has come up with. I elbow Jasper in the side, pushing him away from me and fully into Dominic. “Better go find a corner and suck him off. He’s going to lose it if we stand here for much longer.”

Dominic glares, but Jasper laughs, tossing his head back and pressing a hand to his chest. After a moment, Jasper leans into me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close to him. The kiss is as fast as it is deep, and I make sure my scent is all over him before he pulls away. And then I trace the line of his jaw with my lips and set a small love bite under his ear for good measure.

“We’ll be back,” Jasper whispers, breathless giddiness making his voice lighter and faster. He grabs Dominic’s arm and runs his hand down his forearm before lacing their hands together. The soft intimacy of the touch has a bolt of heat racing through me. Jasper levels a half-hearted glare at me. “Don’t have too much fun without us.”

“I should be the one saying that to you,” I mutter, grinning, and then laugh fully when his cheeks flush a gorgeous dark red. I shove his shoulder and push off the wall, starting into the throng of people before they’ve walked away from me. “I need some fucking food. I’ll see you in a bit.”

I scan the crowd, looking for the telltale green, and my pulse jumps as I lock onto it, following it through the sea of people until I’m no more than ten feet from her. She takes a deep breath and grabs a small plate before turning toward the large spread of finger foods the Council has had catered.

The soft cadence of the string quartet fades, and a DJ announces himself over the impressive speaker setup. Heavy bass of a newer pop song fills the room more thoroughly than the instrumentation did. I run my hands through my hair and scratch at the snake tattoo tracing up the side of my neck.

What the fuck am I even doing?

Being irresponsible, I guess.

Five

RYLAN

Istand back as I watch Violet work her way through the finger foods, loading up her plate until there’s not an empty spot remaining. She adjusts her hold on everything as she grabs a glass and tries to pour herself some of the water that has cucumbers and strawberries floating in it. I’m closing the distance before I can stop myself, intent on helping her keep from spilling the food or dropping the glass. Her hold juggles a bit, and she mutters a curse.

“Let me get that for you,” I say, grabbing the full plate of food from her hands as she bobbles it again.

Her gaze whips to mine, her grip tightening on the plate, before her eyes widen and her shoulders relax.

“Oh,” she whispers. She glances around us, like she’s making sure no one is paying attention, and then relinquishes the plate into my hold.

Why is she so concerned if people notice us interacting?

I bite back the question. It’s not like it really matters. Nothing can happen between us, so her motivations aren’t my problem.

“Bold dress,” I say into the lengthening silence.

Her lip quirks, curling up at the corner, and a flash of amusement crosses her eyes before a careful neutrality settles back over her.

“You think so?” She turns around once, the draping skirt moving like water around her curves. My dick stirs, but I do my best to ignore it. “It felt like a pretty safe option, all things considered.”

I raise an eyebrow, and she grins.

“I could have picked something with a plunging neckline or pieces cut out of it. Or maybe something sheer. My mother would freaking lose it if she saw photos surface of me in something sheer.”

I toss my head back and laugh.

---