Page 43 of Knot the One They Want

Eventually, Lake clears his throat, his warm honey eyes meeting mine. "Thank you for the meal, Evie. It was delicious."

I feel a genuine smile tug at my lips. At least one of them has manners. "I'm so happy you enjoyed it," I reply, my voice dripping with sweetness. "If you all tell me your favorite foods, I'll make sure they get put into the rotation."

I let the implication hang in the air, heavy and unspoken. I'm going to be the one in charge of their food from now on. They'd better treat me accordingly.

Damien's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. "It's just food," he grumbles. "It doesn't matter."

I force my smile to stay in place, even as my blood boils beneath the surface. "Food is the kind of thing you don't notice until it's either of poor quality or absent entirely," I reply, my tone deceptively light, considering the threat I'm making.

And itisa threat.

We stare each other down, the tension crackling between us like electricity. I refuse to look away, to back down. Not this time. And I probably look like some kind of psychopathic porcelain doll, sitting here smiling at my mortal enemy, but the version of me that would play by their rules and bend to their will died of humiliation last night.

Asher clears his throat, breaking the standoff. "Is there anything you need, Evie?" he asks, his voice smooth as silk. "To make your stay more comfortable."

My stay. As if I won't be here long.

I turn my gaze to him, my smile turning coy. "As a matter of fact, now that you mention it, I could use proper nesting materials."

Asher and Lake exchange a confused glance, their brows furrowing. "Weren't the nesting materials we collected before to your liking?" Lake asks awkwardly, shifting in his seat.

I stare at Lake for a moment, my brow furrowing in confusion. Nesting materials?Whatnesting materials? My mind races, trying to make sense of his words.

And then I see it. The malicious glint in Damien's icy blue eyes, the way his lips twitch with a barely suppressed smirk. Realization dawns on me like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head.

So Iwassupposed to have nesting materials last night.

And Damien, the bastard, clearly instructed the staff to hide them from me. Probably as some sort of twisted power play, a way to assert his dominance over the helpless little omega under his thumb.

My blood boils beneath my skin, a white-hot rage threatening to consume me. How dare he? How dare he try to manipulate me, to make me feel unwelcome in my own home? To deny me control of one of the few arenas in life where I'm allowed to wield it?

I want to scream, to throw my glass of wine in his smug face and watch it drip down his chiseled features.

But I don't. I take a deep breath, forcing my anger down, down, down until it's nothing more than a simmering ember in the pit of my stomach. I can't let him see how much he's gotten to me. I won't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I pause for a moment, considering my next move. I glance around the table, taking in the accusatory looks Lake and Asher are shooting in Damien's direction. Interesting. It seems there may be a wedge I can drive between them, a crack in their united front. I file that information away for later.

For now, I'll play the long game.

"There weren't any when I arrived," I say, my voice carefully neutral. "But it must have been a point of confusion with the staff."

I glance pointedly at Ellen, who's hovering in the corner of the room, her pale eyes watching me like a hawk. I know she's listening to every word.

"It's not their fault," I continue, my tone dripping with false sympathy. "It's clear there's been some mismanagement over the years, but not to worry. I'm here to fix all of that and I'll have this household running like a well oiled machine in no time."

I meet Damien's gaze head-on, my eyes narrowing ever so slightly. I can see the challenge in his icy stare, the way his jaw clenches with barely contained anger. He knows exactly what I'm doing, the gauntlet I'm throwing down at his feet.

And it's clear he's more than willing to match it.

But if I can't find a way to make these alphas accept me and be the pack I've always longed for? I'll settle for making their lives a living hell.

Just like they have mine.

CHAPTER 21

LAKE

Damien's study door slams shut behind us with a resounding thud as the four of us crowd in. The rich scent of leather and aged whiskey envelops me as I stride to the mahogany bar and pour myself a generous dram of Damien's finest single malt. I need it after the emotional whiplash of tonight's dinner.

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