Page 26 of Knot the One They Want

But I'm still the unwanted extra. The one antique from my father's old life they couldn't just relegate to the attic or sell off. Not until today. The silly little girl with her head in the clouds. Always too much and yet never quite enough.

Now I'm being given to a pack of strangers. Alphas who want me for my bloodlines and my breeding. Not for me. Never for the real Evangeline buried beneath the shiny veneer.

I blink back the sudden sting of tears, pasting on my most dazzling smile as we reach the dais. I curtsy deeply to my intended mates, the picture of demure grace even as my heart twists painfully in my chest.

Another cage. Another place where I don't belong.

But I'll play my role to perfection. The silly, sweet little omega. The pretty decoration on their arms. I'll giggle and flutter my lashes and pretend I don't die a little inside with every breath.

No one will ever know. I'll hide my shattered dreams behind a brilliant smile and bury the real me so deep, she'll never see the sun.

After all, that’s what I was born to do.

Damien's hand is cool and firm as he reaches out and helps me onto the dais, his touch impersonal. A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the brush of his skin on mine. It's the icy indifference in his gaze, the way he looks through me as if I'm nothing more than an obligation to be fulfilled.

I kneel on the plush cushion in the center of the other three, the silk of my gown whispering against my skin like a lover's caress. A mockery of the intimacy I crave. The alphas taketheir places around me, their powerful frames towering over my diminutive form even as they kneel.

I feel so small.

Insignificant.

A lamb surrounded by wolves waiting for the first bite.

The coalition elder steps forward, his wizened face solemn as he begins the sacred rites. The ancient words wash over me, a spoken song of tradition and duty. Of omega submission and alpha dominance. My role in this grand tapestry woven in strands of gold and blood.

I barely hear him over the pounding of my heart, the rush of blood in my ears. Fear coils in my belly, cold and heavy. I've always been afraid of the mating bite, the searing pain and inescapable bond. But to endure four of them at once? The thought makes me tremble, my hands curling into fists on my thighs. At least the abundant lace of my gown conceals them.

I think of my mother, long gone now. Before the omega birth rates fell and alphas had no choice but to form packs to ensure access to an omega and the continuation of their bloodlines. She had one mate, one mark. A love story for the ages, she used to say. Her eyes would go soft and distant when she talked about it, a secret smile playing about her lips as she recalled my father's courtship.

I used to dream of that. Of a dashing alpha sweeping me off my feet, his eyes filled with adoration as he claimed me for his own. A fairy tale romance, tender and true. How naive I was. How foolish.

The elder finishes the rites, his voice ringing out in the hushed silence. "Let the claiming begin."

Damien moves first, his rough hand curving around the nape of my neck. He takes out a small key with his other hand and unlocks the collar that hasn't left my throat since their proposal. His touch is proprietary, a silent declaration of ownership. Isuppress a shudder, tilting my head to bare my naked throat in submission.

His breath is hot against my skin as he leans in, his lips brushing the sensitive spot where neck meets shoulder. The skin feels newly vulnerable and sensitive without the now familiar weight of the collar against it. I brace myself, every muscle tense as I wait for the sharp sting of his teeth. The first mark. The first chain link binding my invisible shackles.

Pain explodes through me as Damien's teeth sink into my flesh, a brutal claiming that rips a cry from my throat. I feel the skin break, hot blood trickling down my collarbone as he holds me in place. It's more than just physical agony though. As his teeth pierce me, I'm flooded with a maelstrom of emotions that aren't my own—rage, anguish, bitterness. They surge through my veins like acid, eating away at me from the inside.

I know an alpha's mark usually comes with an emotional transfer of one degree or another. It's part of why omegas are so valued. Alphas aren't exactly the most in tune with their emotions out of the three classes. Omegas don't just bear the burden of their feelings… we transmute them. And we serve as a link between members of a pack, helping to soothe tensions, and provide a solid center for them to rally around rather than tearing each other apart.

Eventually, a pack without an omega is likely to crumble. If they don't kill each other first.

I was expecting this moment to be awkward, maybe even painful, given the distaste I know Damien has for me, but I wasn't expecting… this.

The weight of it all—his hatred, his pain, his resentment—feels like it's crushing me. Suffocating me.

He releases me abruptly but not a moment too soon and I sway, dizzy and reeling. There's no tenderness in his eyes as he pulls back, only a grim satisfaction and cold resolve. Any fragilehope I harbored that he might show me kindness now that we're both trapped together withers and dies, turning to ashes in my mouth.

Asher is next, taking Damien's place. His gaze meets mine and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of pity in those hazel depths. They seem to change color, depending on the light. Right now, the green flecks in them are winning out. Somehow, his compassion hurts worse than Damien's cruelty. I don't want his pity. I don't want any of this, either. How can they not see that?

His bite is gentler, almost apologetic, but still impersonal. A duty, not a desire. That knowledge doesn't stop me from shivering involuntarily as he sweeps a strand of hair away from my throat.

I close my eyes against the fresh wave of pain and despair I feel, mingled with his guilt, a single tear tracing down my cheek. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Not the beautiful bonding I've read about in my hidden romance novels, filled with love and reverence. Yet another dream, taken and twisted into something perverse.

I'm trembling by the time Cole takes his turn, my skin slick with cold sweat. He cups my face almost tenderly, his thumb brushing away the errant tear. But his eyes are shuttered, his touch perfunctory. He bites down swift and sure on the other side of my throat, the brief flare of pain almost a relief. Anything is better than this numb detachment, the way they touch me without truly seeing me. His bite doesn't come with the rush of bitterness and spite I got from Damien, and while his guilt is there, it isn't quite as acrid as Asher's. But the current of fear that floods me is more jarring.

Fear? What does this massive, untouchable alpha have to fear from me? I meet his eyes for a split second as he pulls away and have a strange, fleeting realization that it isn't fear on his behalf.

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