Page 52 of Knot All is Forgiven

And shamefully, I wonder what Cyrus is going to think of me. Of how I look now.

But there's nothing I can do but push through this meeting and then turn the account down.

I pin Lanie with a glare. "This isn't over, Lanie," I sneer before I reenter the room that contains the embodiment of my trauma.

Cyrus stands, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "Jordan, honey," he begins.

"Mr. Stargazer," I reply cooly. Cyrus freezes, his fingers flexing, but I turn away from him.

"Jordan, this is Nolan Sloane, owner of Alphamatic," Lanie says, gesturing at a handsome Alpha with buzzed hair and rich brown skin. He's not dressed in a suit like most of my clients are, but that's not surprising considering what he does. Instead, he's in nice jeans and a plain black shirt.

He holds his hand out, which surprises me since, now that I'm an Omega, the Omega that gave him that shiny scar could get upset about him touching me. But there is no hesitation as he extends his hand to me, so I don't show any either and grasp it tightly. "Nice to meet you, Nolan. I'm Jordan. This is your first major ad campaign, right?"

I settle into my seat, keeping Cyrus in my periphery but not giving him any of my attention. Nolan smiles warmly and crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah, my Omega thought it would be a good idea. We've got a lot of franchises that have been opening up lately, and while they can do their own local ads, we think a nationwide campaign may be beneficial."

"We? Do you have a business partner who needs to be included in these conversations?" I open Lanie's folder, flicking through the papers for mention of someone else working with Nolan.

"I mean, we, as in my pack, is all. We're all quite excited about this partnership. When Cyrus agreed to be our spokesman and his agent insisted we work with you…"

"Oh, insisted, did he?" I spin in the chair and pin the Alpha in question with a glare. "Insisted?"

Cyrus smiles, utterly unabashed in his machinations. "You're the best, Ms. Knight."

"Valentine," I say through gritted teeth. "As of today, I am officially Jordan Valentine."

"Oh, congrats!" Nolan says, oblivious to the tension flowing between the two of us. "Your pack must be thrilled!"

"We're only a pack of two, but we're quite happy together," I tell Nolan, turning my back on Cyrus again, ignoring the angry rumble he's emitting. "Anyways, I'd love to be able to help you, Mr. Sloane, but I'm not sure if our ideals align."

"Jordan," Cyrus says lowly. "Don't do this."

"Mr. Stargazer, I don't believe this has anything to do with you." I can hear him pushing to his feet, feel him stalk around the table, and stand behind me. And then he's turning my chair, his arms caging me in as I try my hardest to avoid breathing and scenting him.

But Cyrus ducks his head, burying his nose in the crook of my neck, his strong hands holding the chair and stopping me from fleeing his attention.

"Of course," he mumbles softly, pulling away and looking at me with reverence. "You smell like springtime. Like sunshine and wisteria."

Memories flood me of hiding beneath the purple blooms, doing homework in the fading sunlight, sneaking glances, and hiding pencils from one another.

Of a beautiful childhood together.

We were just kids, and it was all innocent, but he'd pass me notes in class and tell me to meet under our tree.

Our tree that had beautiful purple blooms and a rich floral scent.

And with one inhale, those memories merge, changing into nights as teenagers when we whispered secrets as we sipped cheap wine. Cyrus would gather me in his arms and feed me berries we stole off the neighbors' vines, and we'd laugh until the early hours of the morning.

Those memories morph into a sticky, sweet scent of blackberry wine, that subtle undercurrent of alcohol sharpening the freshness of the berry. Of drinking it from a plastic cup as I watched him across the room at a party and catching his eye before he'd ditch whoever he was talking to so he could spend time with me.

Scents hold memories, and this one emanates from the massive Alpha in front of me, caging me into this desk chair, oblivious to the others in the room.

"Cyrus, you need to go," I say quietly around the lump in my throat. "This is my place of business you have chosen to ambush me at."

"We're going to step outside. Mr. Sloane, how about we go get a coffee?" I hear Lanie ask before they shuffle out of the room. The door closes behind them, but my vision is entirely blocked by the massive Alpha before me.

"Cyrus," I hiss again. "Back up."

He listens this time, removing his hands from the chair and slowly backing away, giving me some much-needed breathingroom. I bend over, my hands clasping together behind my neck as I slow my breathing in an attempt to calm my panic.

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