Page 2 of Knot the One They Want

"Obviously," Addison says wryly. "Do you evenlikeclassical music?"

"Please, I only listen to classical music when I'm plotting revenge on my enemies," I inform her, fussing with my curls. "But like I said, he's insanely hot. Even if I don't like his music, I can still appreciate him with my other four senses."

She rolls her eyes, her arms folded as she leans against the wall. "Silly me. Do carry on."

"Then there are the twins," I say, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Cole and Lake Davenport."

"Twins, huh?" She cocks an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but they're polar opposites," I tell her. "Cole is this hot, badass MMA fighter who's won six world titles, and his brother is a brilliant painter. Total brooding artist type," I say with a wistful sigh.

"I've gotta admit, that's an impressive bunch," Addison muses. "And you found all this out through peering in their bedroom windows?"

I lob a makeup sponge that Addison skillfully snatches out of the air before it can hit her between the eyes. She cackles.

"Not funny," I grumble.

"I'm just teasing," she says, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes that keeps me from being too miffed. Then she grows somber. "But you know, just because they're successful and hot, that doesn't mean they're right for you."

I shrug, fiddling with a tube of lip gloss. "Maybe not. But at least they'll be interesting. Not like those boring, stuffy trustfund alphas Dad usually picks. Then there was the one led by some creepy old dude who kept staring at my boobs."

Addison gives me a sympathetic grimace. "No argument there."

I'm twenty-two in an age when most omegas are already matched by eighteen, twenty at the most, so Dad is getting antsy. Every time I turn down another pack, he huffs like he's trying to blow down a few little piggies' vacation home.

I think it's complete BS that I'm expected to chart out my entire future a mere year after I turned twenty-one, but that's just the way things are. Especially when I'm the family outsider.

Addison sets down the eyeliner and spins my chair so I'm facing her directly. Her expression softens. "Evie... I just want you to be happy. To find a pack that cherishes you for who you are, not how good you'll look on their arms at events. You deserve that."

I bite my lip, touched by her concern even as I brush it off with a small laugh. "Not everyone can be a cool musician who doesn't care about finding a pack, Addie. Some of us need that belonging, that… family."

I may not be willing to settle for just any pack who comes calling, but I'm just as eager to get out of the house as Dad and Vivienne are to get rid of me. As much as I'll miss my younger siblings—well, I'll miss Lily and Jasper at least—it's been clear since Dad and Vivienne's wedding that I'm the extra Beaumont. The one remnant of the past getting in the way of their perfect family.

Now, I finally have the chance to start my own. To find a pack of my own, alphas who will love and cherish me.

Whowantme.

"Youarecool, Ev. I wish you saw that." She smiles sadly and tweaks my nose. "Just... don't settle, okay? Promise me.No matter how famous or rich or whatever they are, if they're assholes, you tell them to take a hike."

"I promise." I grasp her hands and squeeze. Addison always knows just what to say. She sees past the perfect omega facade to the real me. The hopeless romantic behind the socialite smile. "But you know, I'm gonna run out of vetoes eventually, so I need to make sure I don't just get stuck with whoever Dad picks for me."

"Yeah, thanks to that bitch ruining your coming out party," Addison mutters.

"You know what Mrs. Lawton from charm school would say about you using that word," I say in a wry tone.

She snorts. “Fuck charm school, and Mrs. Lawton was the biggest bitch of them all.”

I snicker in spite of myself. She's notwrong. About Mrs. Lawton or my stepmother ruining my big debut into society.

When I think back to that night, on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, I still cringe.

It was the night I'd been looking forward to for as long as I could remember. And considering the fact that my favorite stories Mom told usually revolved around her own coming of age party, it felt like my chance to finally feel close to her again. To make her proud.

Every detail was perfect, and the whole night would have been, if it wasn't for Vivienne's histrionics. It seems her mystery illness, which had never manifested a day before or a day since, chose the exact moment of my debut to strike.

One moment, she was slinging back mimosas—which she swears to this day had absolutely nothing to do with said mystery illness—and the next, she was on the floor writhing and moaning, resulting in the whole place swarming with paramedics and the night ultimately being canceled.

Conveniently, she was completely fine by the time they made it to the hospital and ran every test in the book only to confirm there was absolutely nothing wrong with her.

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