Page 139 of Knot All is Forgiven

I tried to refuse when Ronda and Jordan informed me that the winner had been selected and I had to do my prize date from the Alphamatic campaign. Being on a romantic dinner with this random Omega when I haven't even had the chance to do this with mine feels like a betrayal.

I'm sure I am not very good company, answering her questions in one-word grunts. I don't think she cares much. I have heard about her follower count, how much she loves hockey players because of our stretches on the ice, and how she thinks this dinner will catapult her credibility in the hockey universe.

Too bad I can't just blow her off. That wouldn't be good press for me or Alphamatic, and Ronda would have my fucking tongue if I were rude to this woman.

"You seem distracted," she says around a bite of the most pathetic salad I've ever seen.

"This is just how I am," I say, finally giving up all pretenses of trying to eat my dinner. "I don't socialize much."

"That's surprising. You seem so personable on air. And that speech you gave your Omega…" She swoons, holding a hand to her chest. "I'm not the only one who wished you were talking about me. How come there hasn't been an update about you and her?"

Don't say her name. Don't say her name.

"That Jordan should thank her lucky stars that she has an Alpha like you."

She said her name.

For some reason, hearing this unappealing, obnoxious Omega talking about mine makes me feel nearly feral. Even though there was nothing rude about the words, she still shouldn't be thinking about my Omega at all.

"Well, this has been a lovely evening," I pivot, standing up. "But something has come up, and I need to run."

"What do you mean something came up? You didn't even check your phone!" Her outraged screech draws our waiter's attention, who rushes to my side.

"Mr. Stargazer?" he says quietly. "Are you ready to leave?"

I shove a handful of bills that more than cover the tab in his hands. "Yes, I am. Please make sure my… acquaintance gets a ride home. The rest is yours."

"I won a date!" she tries, standing up. "This wasn't a full date!"

"What a date is is subjective. But I need to leave."

My skin itches as I climb into my sports car. I am on edge in a way I haven't felt before. Why did I think this was a good idea? Everything about that dinner felt so wrong. I should have taken Jordan on a date first.

Instead, I treated a woman I didn't know and couldn't stand a night out that I hadn't even given my Omega.

It's no wonder Jordan hasn't forgiven me and welcomed me into her pack like she has Simon and Rafe. I'm thoughtless. I can't seem to get the hang of this. All I want is to be her Alpha, but I keep failing at every corner.

My hands shake as I unlock the front door, slinking in in my own fucked up version of the walk of shame.

As I turn the corner into the main living area, a red blur is all I see before a weight latches itself onto my upper body, slamming me into the wall.

"No! Wrong, wrong, all wrong," Jordan chants, rubbing her face in the crook of my neck. "Mine. Only mine," she growls.

A blinding pain in my throat overtakes me that quickly fades to a burning pleasure that stiffens my cock and has me groaning, barely able to support the two of us as my knees waver.

"Jordan!" Icarus snarls, grabbing her by the hair and wrenching her off me. She growls at him as he bands an arm around her waist, her legs kicking.

Her lips are shiny and red with my blood.

My hand ghosts over my neck, and I find a bite mark at the very top of my throat, in a place where no shirt collar will ever cover it.

She marked me.

My Omega bit me.

Tears spring to my eyes as I watch Icarus restrain a spitting mad Jordan.

"Jordan," he barks, "quit being a brat and calm down."

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