Page 99 of Tangled in Knots

I’m terrified of how terrible it’ll be if Laurell is somehow wrong. I haven’t felt even a twinge or the need to nest, but my heat hit me like a freight train before. I don’t trust it.

“No,” he says, blinking. “Aisling and Wren haven’t told me anything about your story and I want you to know that they won’t. I don’t even know who your pack is.”

“They’re not my pack,” I mutter. “What else do you want to know?”

If he asks directly, I’ll tell him, but I’m still trying to find emotional distance from what happened. The walk home last night helped a little to find my equilibrium, and then I meditated before bed.

I can absolutely go toe-to toe-with an alpha and annoy them today.

Aisling smirks as she watches us, content not to intervene.

“What do you want to tell me?” Shaw asks. “Hormone suppressants are easy to get addicted to, because of how used to skipping heats omegas get. Missing a dose will fuck the entire thing up, though what I’m giving you is one very strong dose, because from what I can see your body isn’t strong enough to withstand a heat.”

“I’m working on getting stronger, but food and I still aren’t friends,” I say.

“Are you not eating because you don’t feel like it or because of some sort of eating disorder?” he asks.

“That’s not a fair question,” Aisling says. “Try again.”

“Being mated to a lawyer is making you impossible to deal with,” Shaw grunts. “Okay, can you tell me why you don’t want to eat?”

“It varies,” I tell him. “I was kidnapped on Christmas Eve, and after some pretty shitty things, I was shot in the snow like a dog. The alphas performed surgery without anesthesia, and then kept me under sedation for three weeks. I ate intermittently, but not anywhere near what’s considered healthy. Now, I have to be careful of what I eat because my stomach gets easily upset. Other times, anxiety twists my stomach up into knots and I can’t eat anything.”

“Fuck me,” Shaw mutters. “No wonder Aisling tried to tell me I was being a dick. I definitely feel like one now.”

“I don’t think it’s very common to run into someone with my experience,” I tell him. I don’t want him to feel bad, since he’s offering to help me.

“Not your particular story,” Shaw says. “What happened after the three weeks?”

“They sold me,” I whisper. “It’s really complicated now. I don’t like to think about them.”

“Okay,” Shaw says, pulling out a pill bottle and setting it in front of me. “Do you really think they’re going to just let you go? I don’t know what their motivation was, but once a scent match becomes active, it’s really difficult to be a dick to them.”

“I’m only matched to one of them,” I tell him. “Damon says he didn’t know their plans. We’re bonded. It hurts too much to think about them, and I have a very permanent reminder that I’m bonded to Damon forever.”

“I’m starting to get the feeling that I know what pack this is,” he growls. I gaze at him dispassionately because it has no effect on me. “You’re not afraid of me, but you don’t much trust me, huh?”

“Why should I be afraid of you?” I ask him. “Growls and barks have no effect on me. I can’t be controlled.”

“That’s very rare,” Shaw says, interested as he shifts on his feet. “You shouldn’t be afraid of me. Aisling and Wrenhave already made it clear that I’m to behave myself, though I typically do. Your father got into some trouble with Rock Dresmond, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” I say. “Rock had his sons kill him. I don’t know the details, nor how my father ran afoul of someone like him. Rock has decided that I’ll make the best form of revenge on my father, despite the fact that he’s dead. He scares the hell out of me.”

“You’re bonded to Damon Dresmond, aren’t you?” he asks softly.

“Mmhmm,” I mutter. “Got it in one.”

“There’s your pill, Adira. It should be strong enough to give you some space from the twisted bitch that biology is,” he says as I open the container, shaking it out into my palm.

There’s no way this is a trap. I trust Aisling, and by extension, I need to trust Shaw. Popping the pill into my mouth, I swallow it down with a sip of water, making a face.

It tastes like dirt.

“They never taste great,” Aisling says, wrinkling her nose.

“I need to tell you something,” Shaw says, watching me closely. “Jed has been working on gathering support with the other families in Missouri, so that he can take over. I expect he’s going to be casting a wide net, and will be approaching the Minnesota mafia packs next.”

“I didn’t think he was serious when he told me that,” I rasp. “Jed said he wanted to make things safe for me, but it’ll never be safe as long as Rock’s alive. Dammit, I don’t want to cry.”

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