Page 104 of Knot the One They Want

Shock courses through me, followed quickly by a rush of some emotion I can't quite name. Pride, maybe. Or gratitude. But there's also a flicker of uncertainty, of hesitation.

"I'm honored, Dad. But I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. I want to focus on Evie right now, on repairing our pack bonds. If that means you want to pass the responsibility to Micah instead, I understand."

My father's eyes widen, genuine surprise etched into the lines of his face. But then he smiles, a real smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. "No, Damien. I'm more certain than ever that you're the right choice. And I'm perfectly fine waiting until you're ready." He winks, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I've still got some energy in these old bones yet."

A laugh bubbles up my throat, relief and affection mingling in my chest. "Thanks, Dad. That means a lot."

He opens his mouth to respond, but something over my shoulder catches his attention. His brow furrows, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Looks like Evie's parents just arrived."

I follow his gaze, my stomach clenching as I see Vivienne and Charles making their way through the crowd. Vivienne's lips are pursed in a disapproving frown, her critical gaze sweeping over the room like she's looking for something to criticize. I get the feeling she views an art exhibition the way most people see a shooting gallery.

Evie catches my eye from across the room, a silent plea in her gaze. I nod, already moving toward her. "Excuse me, Dad. I need to..."

"Go," he says, giving me a gentle push. "Be there for your omega."

I weave through the throng of guests, my pack falling into step beside me as we converge on Evie. We reach her just as her parents do, forming a protective circle around her and the look of relief in her eyes confirms that was the right move.

"Evangeline, darling," Vivienne says, air-kissing Evie's cheek. "So good to see you."

"Vivienne," Evie replies, her smile strained. "Daddy. I'm so glad you could make it."

Charles grunts, his gaze flickering over us with thinly veiled disdain. "Yes, well, we couldn't miss our daughter's first public appearance as a mated omega, could we?"

I bristle at his tone, at the implication that Evie is nothing more than a trophy to be displayed. But before I can say anything, Vivienne's eyes land on Evie's dress, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

"Really, Evangeline, that dress is a bit... tight, don't you think? It's hardly appropriate for a mated omega to be showing off her figure like that."

Red-hot anger surges through me, my vision flickering with an alpha haze. How dare she speak to my omega that way?

I slip an arm around Evie's waist, pulling her close against my side. She fits perfectly, her soft, luscious curves molding to my body like she was made for me.

"I think," I say, my voice low and dangerous, "that Evie looks absolutely stunning. Perhaps you're just jealous she fills out a dress in a way you never could."

Vivienne's eyes bulge, her face flushing an unflattering shade of red. "Well, I never!"

"He's right," Lake chimes in, his honey eyes glinting with mirth. "Evie's the most beautiful woman in the room."

"Amen to that," Asher agrees, raising his glass in a mock toast.

Cole just smirks, crossing his arms over his broad chest in a silent show of support and agreement.

Vivienne sputters, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. But it's Charles' reaction that surprises me. He doesn't scold me, doesn't leap to his wife's defense. He just sighs, looking suddenly tired.

"Excuse my wife," he mutters, before turning and following Vivienne as she storms off in a huff.

The moment they're out of earshot, Evie lets out a snort of laughter. "You shouldn't have said that," she says, but there's no real heat in her words.

I grin down at her, feeling lighter than I have all evening. "It was only the truth. You're clearly the most beautiful woman here."

She blushes, ducking her head. But I catch the pleased smile playing at her lips, the sparkle in her eyes. And fuck, if that doesn't make me want to kiss her senseless right here in the middle of the gallery.

But before I can act on that impulse, a hush falls over the room. It's like the air has been sucked out, replaced by a crackling tension that raises the hair on the back of my neck.

I look up, my gaze drawn to the entrance. And there, standing in the doorway like something out of a nightmare, is Daria.

She's wearing a gaudy blood-red dress that clings to her lithe frame, her raven hair falling in waves down her back. She's dressed like she wants to be the star of the show, even if she's the party crasher. Her eyes lock onto mine, a slow smile spreading across her face.

The pack goes still around me, their bodies tensing like coiled springs. I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. Waiting to see if I'll fall back into old patterns, old obsessions.

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