Page 168 of Hard Knot

"When?" The word comes out rough, almost dangerous.

"Harvard," I whisper, the memories I usually keep locked away floating hazily to the surface. "The day I went into heat."

My laugh sounds wrong even to my own ears – too bright, too brittle.

"Surprise! Turns out that going into heat in public is pretty much a free-for-all. Who knew?" It shouldn’t sound so sad anddemoralizing, but I guess when I’m stupid drunk everything sounds that way with a touch of dark humor.

Holmes's arms tighten around me almost painfully, and I can feel the tension radiating through his entire body.

"Elizabeth..."

"Don't," I murmur, pressing closer to him. "Please don't make it a thing. I just... wanted you to know why I don't really drink. Why I’m…a bitch a lot…hard front and all that. They stay away…thinking I’m no good. It’s for the best. Better that way. It’s why I'm careful about being too out of control. Alcohol makes you lose all those senses, and around those I don’t trust. Fuck that." I try to inject some lightness into my voice. "Though clearly I failed spectacularly at that tonight."

I pause to lift my head, almost leaning back too far, but managing to lay my chin on his chest so I can look at him with half-opened eyes. Everything is spinning but man, Holmes’s face is beautiful when surrounded by flashing lights and shadows.

He really is so handsome.

"You know..." I say, the words feeling heavy with meaning despite my alcohol-loosened tongue, "I could hate your guts before the world... but I trust you." The admission comes out like a precious secret, something meant only for this moment between us. "You'd never hurt me. Not to that extent... not leave scars that make me never want to go into Heat again."

"Never," he vows without hesitation, the immediacy of his response making me smile.

"This is when you kiss me and we never talk about it again," I whisper, but his frown tells me that's not going to happen.

As I study his face, trying to read the emotions flowing through his expression, something finally clicks in my alcohol-hazed mind.

"Wait... you're not wearing your blindfold anymore. Or sunglasses."

A soft smile touches my lips as I reach up to trace the scar tissue around his eye with gentle fingers.

"I approve," I murmur. "Very much approve."

He leans down until our foreheads press together, his breath warm against my face.

"We will talk about this again," he says softly but firmly. "As many times as it takes until you understand that what those Alphas did was wrong. Until you realize you deserve to have a Heat and come to enjoy the benefits of having one when you're ready and comfortable to do so."

His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, unexpectedly comforting in their certainty.

"I'll never let that happen again," he whispers, and something inside me breaks.

I want to make a joke, to brush it off like I always do when this topic comes up. But there's something about the way he says it – like it's not even a question like my safety is simply a fact he'll ensure – that undoes all my carefully constructed defenses.

For the first time, someone isn't telling me I should have been more careful, or that I should have known better, or that these things just happen sometimes to Omegas who aren't claimed.

He's just...promising to protect me.

Like it's that simple.

The tears come before I can stop them, and I bury my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around him tightly. His hold on me never wavers as I cry, his steady swaying keeping time with the music while my quiet whimpers get lost in the bass.

My tears soak into his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind. He just holds me, one hand making soothing circles on my back as we continue to sway in the midst of the dance floor.

I can feel exhaustion creeping in at the edges of my consciousness, the combination of emotional release and alcohol making my limbs feel heavy. But for the first time in years, I'm not afraid to let go.

My pack will catch me when I fall.

The thought settles in my chest like a warm ember, bringing with it a peace I haven't felt since before Harvard. Maybe this is what I've been missing all along – not just protection, but understanding.

Not just acceptance, but active support.

---