Page 89 of Knot the One They Want

Evie meets my gaze, her green eyes impossibly deep. "Thank you. For the apology. And the eggs."

I wait for the other shoe to drop. For her to tell me exactly where I can shove my apology. But it doesn't come. Instead, she picks up her fork and takes a delicate bite, humming with appreciation.

"This is really good," she says, gesturing with her fork.

I lean against the counter, arms crossed. "You're... welcome." The words feel foreign on my tongue. When was the last time I genuinely thanked someone? Or had been thanked in return?

Evie takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Can I ask you something?"

I nod, wary but curious of what the question is going to be.

She sets down her fork, her expression serious. "Whydoyou hate me so much?"

The question hits me like a physical blow. I open my mouth, then close it, struggling to find the right words.

"You don't have to answer," she adds quickly. "I just... I've been trying to understand. Was it something I did? Something about me specifically?"

"No," I say, the word escaping me in a rush. "It's a valid question, but I don't. I don't hate you."

At least… not anymore.

Evie's brow furrows, as if that bothers her more than the prospect of me hating her. "Then why?"

Why? That's a good question.

I clear my throat. "It wasn't you. It was never you."

She shakes her head, clearly troubled. "I don't understand."

I run a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up. How do I explain without sounding like a complete ass? When I realize that's a foregone conclusion, I decide to just go with the truth and let the chips fall where they may.

"The truth, Evie, is that I was going to hate any omega who was pushed on us," I admit finally. "It didn't matter who you were, or what you were like. I'd already made up my mind before we even met."

She processes this, nodding thoughtfully. "But why?" she finally asks. She doesn't sound upset or even hurt. Just genuinely curious.

The million-dollar question.

I could brush it off, make some excuse about pack dynamics or business pressures. But Evie deserves better than that. She deserves the full, unvarnished truth.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Have you ever heard the name Daria Volkov?"

Evie frowns again, then shakes her head.

"She was... our mate. Before you."

Understanding dawns in Evie's eyes. It takes her a moment to process that, too, and I can't say I blame her. "What happened?"

The old pain rises, a dull ache in my chest. But it's different now. Muted. Like looking at an old photograph that's faded around the edges.

"We thought we loved her," I say quietly. "I thoughtIloved her. But it was all a lie. She was using us, playing us against eachother. And when she got bored, when she realized she liked the trappings of this life but none of the responsibility and scrutiny that comes with it, she left us. For another alpha."

Evie's eyes widen, and I can see everything within them. The hurt, mingled with the confusion mingled with sympathy I don't deserve. "You all had a mate," she finally murmurs. "Before me?"

I can only nod. I assumed one of the others had told her. That they would have outed my mastermind role in her rejection so she won't hate them when I'm the one to blame.

And I can't say I would have blamed them.

But they didn't. They didn't tell her about Daria, and I can only assume it's out of loyalty to me.

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