Page 12 of Knot All is Forgiven

"…Jordan Jordan?"

"Yeah, our Jordan."

"She's not ours, Rafe. Hasn't been for a long time."

"About that," I say with a chuckle. "Turns out Jordan's an Omega, and she smells like mango and lime." There is dead silence on the phone, and I pull it away from my face to check and make sure the call is still connected. It is. "You okay there, Cyrus?"

"Did you just say Jordan is an Omega, and she smells like mango and lime? Not that she smells good?"

I pull open the door to my sleek black sports car, which suddenly feels too flashy, and I know Jordy will hate it. "I did say that. And I'm going to get our Omega."

St. Michael's is staffedby a crew of well-meaning, rule-following assholes.

They won't let us back to see Jordan.

Cyrus met me at the hospital, and we've been in the waiting room, trying to get updates on her every few minutes, but no one will talk to us. We haven't heard from Simon. I didn't want to tell him what was happening over a voicemail, so I just left him a message and asked him to meet us at the hospital.

In retrospect, that may have been the wrong call. Simon has always been a sensitive dude, and a message like that is probably terrifying. I should've thought that through.

"She's our Omega," Cyrus snarls at the Beta man behind the nurse's station. "We need to go see her."

"Okay, so, one, you have no bonding paperwork, and two, she's in our system as a Beta. So I think you're mistaken on who you're trying to see." The man sits down and turns his side to Cyrus, typing away on his computer.

Cyrus slams his hand on the counter. "Jordan Cross. She fainted at the grocery store."

"Well, when Miss Cross wakes up, I'll see if she wants to see you. Otherwise, go wait." He shoos the much larger man away, and Cyrus stomps back to where I'm sitting. He's gotten even more massive since we last saw Jordan. I don't know if she'd even recognize him anymore.

I pat the chair beside me, shaking my head. "Come sit, dude. When she wakes up and hears we're here, she'll have them send us back."

"You have a lot of faith that she'll want to see us," he grumbles.

"Gotta. Otherwise, I'm going to turn into a little bit of a stalker and follow her home."

We've been here, stressing out for well over two hours by the time Simon comes into the hospital, his face full of anxiety and worry until his eyes land on us.

He looks different.

Way, way different.

His hair is bright green, and he's in a leather jacket with a massive Hawk on the back. His black boots are scuffed and broken in, with dark wash denim tucked into the tops of them. I can see tattoos on his hands, but the rest of him is pretty covered, so it's an educated guess that the rest of his body is covered in ink.

I wonder what else has changed about him.

"Is everything okay?" he asks. Despite his tough exterior, his voice is still gentle and kind, and I realize I cannot remember the last time I heard it. "What's going on?"

"Sit down," I say, pointing at the chair across from me. "Promise, you'll want to be sitting for this conversation."

It's been years since I've seen my packmate, and our last conversation before he moved out bounces in my head. Of course, it feels the same as it always has when the three of us are together: a sense of family and rightness that makes it hard to want to be apart. He taps the toe of his boot rapidly as he stares at me, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why are we having a pack reunion in the waiting room of a hospital?"

"Jordan is in there," I say as I jut my chin towards the patient doors. "She passed out at the grocery store."

"Our Jordan? Peaches? Is she okay?" he yelps, looking around and jumping out of the chair.

"We're not sure," I answer honestly. "They won't let us see her. We have to wait until she wakes up."

He sits down again slowly. "You two have been in contact with Jordan?" He locks eyes with mine, and the betrayal is evident. "And you didn't tell me?" Simon looks devastated at the realization. He called Jordan frequently after the incident, but she never returned his calls. Eventually, he had to give up, even though his heart didn't want to.

"We haven't," Cyrus growls. "Rafe found her, realized she was an Omega, and our scent match and called me. Now we're here. You're all caught up." He crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the nurse's station.

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