Page 115 of Knot Their Omega

“Don’t say it,” Kenji gasps in horror.

“I can’t,” she says and shrugs. “Legally.”

“But,” Kai prompts.

“But,” she repeats and shrugs.

“Oh, you’re a sneaky Rebel,” Nathaníel doesn’t just speak those words; he’s laughing with excitement. “Our Omega has connections, huh?”

“I never said I didn’t,” she admits and looks to Icarus, who is genuinely smiling.

As though this whole interaction makes him happy.

“Anyway, even if I have connections, you would need to make a baseline for the song. You know, some lyrics. A theme. Some sound recordings. Just to give a general direction of where the piece is going to go. Then I help connect you to the right sources to make it happen,” she summarizes it as if the process is so easy.

I don’t know who she works with, but it’s a lot harder than she’s trying to portray to my pack.

She needs to stop bullshitting them and realize this is all too much for her to chew.

“Why don’t we stop the shenanigans here,” I announce and boldly walk into the room, grabbing their attention as all eyes land on me.

Compared to before, when I was practically having a meltdown, I’m in my zone, feeling the drugs work their fucking magic.

Project confidence and remind this bitch who the leader is.

I try to ignore how defensive my pack suddenly is. Not a single word is spoken, yet the shift in tension in the room is so great,I almost stop walking to the target in my line of vision.

Almost.

Their rigid body language and how they seem to crowd around this woman, who already poisoned their minds effortlessly. It’s ironic when you think about it. They’re the ones always telling me how bad the drugs are for me, yet this Omega isn’t considered a disease prying its way into my once perfect system, desperate to taint and ruin each of the men I dare carry trust in.

It’s okay. They’re not doomed yet. They just need saving.

I’m the savior.

When I take that final step forward, it’s my reflection that decides to face me right on. It’s a mind fuck for a moment because I’m so focused on this bitch that having anything in the way feels like a threat of nature, but I hold the growl that threatens to escape my lips.

“We’re not doing this here,” Nathaníel declares by getting to the point. It’s laughable.

“Not doing what?” I ask low and arch an eyebrow his way. “YOU. Aren’t. Supposed. To. Be. Here.” I emphasize every word. “You promised me. Vowed to be invisible because THAT’S your punishment! That’s the LEAST you can do for our Suzy.”

He’s the problem.

The reason our Suzy decided to leave with that shitty pack of fuckers.

Deflowered. Tortured. Ruined beyond perfection.

Until she was gone.

No more.

A wilted flower with not a petal left to remember her by.

I see how stoic he gets at the mention of our baby sister. How similar we look when layers of anger rise to the surface. It’s shitty to admit the joy that fills my heart to see his reaction.

To get under his skin like he always does to me.

“I can still see you,” I point out the obvious. “Why don’t you run back to your hidden oasis, trying to redeem yourself with stupid drawings that will never erase what you did?”

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