Page 3 of Knot Happening

A warmth spread across my face as I smiled at the alpha, the expression feeling foreign and forced.Internally, I was filled with a chaotic mixture of panic and dread, on the verge of falling apart.The thought of being forced into a mating bond, of being claimed by a pack of alphas, was enough to send me spiraling into a full-blown panic.

I wasn't ready for this.I wasn't ready to be handed over like a piece of property, to be bound to a pack that was as cruel and calculating as my father—and he was just a beta.The thought of what a pack of alphas might do to me in a room alone was a horror I couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Of course," I heard myself say, my voice steady despite the turmoil within."I would be honored to discuss this with my father.Your pack is indeed a phenomenal catch, and I am truly flattered by your interest."

My father gave me a subtle nod of approval, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.I felt sick, the weight of my impending fate pressing down on me like a physical force.As we made our way back upstairs, my mind raced with calculations and contingencies.I needed to code faster, to complete more projects, to save enough to make my escape.

The thought of running, of leaving this life behind, was both exhilarating and terrifying.But it was a risk I was willing to take.Anything was better than the alternative—a life spent in servitude to a pack that viewed me as a mere object to be claimed.

After being led into my room and hearing the door lock behind me, I steeled myself for the battle ahead.I was Darcy McCarthy, and I would not go gently into the night that they had planned for me.

three

DARCY

The scentof my nest surrounded me, a fragrant fortress woven from years of solitude.Each blanket, every knitted afghan bore the marks of my clumsy fingers, a testament to the countless hours spent in quiet rebellion against my father's iron will.I smiled as I traced the erratic stitches, recalling the little girl who had sought refuge here when the world outside grew too harsh.

"Soon, this will all be behind me," I whispered to the silence, the words as much a promise as a farewell.

With a gentle hand, I began to disassemble my sanctuary.It was a bittersweet task, each undone stitch a symbol of my impending liberation.The nest was my history, my story carved into every crooked line and uneven pattern, but it was a part of my life I had outgrown long ago.

The shadows of my room stretched long and thin as the afternoon sun began its descent, casting an eerie gloom over the remnants of my nest.I stood there, surveying the space that had been my refuge, my heart thrumming with a cocktail of fear and exhilaration.This would be the last time I'd lay eyes on this room, the walls that had heard my silent screams, the carpet that had cushioned my knees during countless heat spikes.

I had been squirreling away every penny I earned from my coding gigs, a stash that grew with each passing week.The Omega Underground had come through, as promised, providing me with a new identity, a lifeline to freedom.I had a new name, a new future waiting for me, tucked away in a bank account that my father's influence couldn't touch.

The laptop that had been my window to the outside world lay in pieces on my desk, its screen shattered like the facade of my perfect omega life.I had transferred all my work, my hope for a new beginning, onto a flash drive that now rested securely against my skin, hidden beneath the lace of my bra.It was a small, fragile thing, but it held the key to my independence.

Tonight, I would slip away into the night, a ghost in the machine, leaving behind nothing but the echo of my name.The charity ball would be my swan song, a final performance before I took my bow and exited the stage for good.

A shiver ran down my spine as I considered the possibility of being caught.The consequences of such a discovery were too dire to contemplate.My father's wrath would be unimaginable, his retribution swift and merciless.But the alternative, a life shackled to his ambition, was a fate far worse than death.

A soft knock on the door—Josephine, with her knowing eyes, interrupted my thoughts.As she stepped into my room, her gaze immediately fell upon the dismantled nest.The emotion that flashed across her face was fleeting but unmistakable: sorrow, pride, and an unspoken understanding.

"Darcy, chérie..."she trailed off, her voice heavy with unshed tears.Before I could respond, she closed the door behind her and rushed over to envelop me in a warm, comforting embrace.It was a hug filled with years of quiet complicity, a wordless acknowledgment that our time together was coming to an end.

Josephine held me at arm's length, her dark eyes searching mine for a flicker of doubt, a hint of hesitation."Do you have somewhere to go, mon coeur?"she asked softly, her voice a tender caress against my cheek.

I met her gaze with steady conviction, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.My silent nod conveyed a lifetime of secrets, an acknowledgment of the shadowy network that had come to be my lifeline.

Josephine's relief was palpable; her breath hitched ever so slightly as she wrapped her arms around me once more."Mrs.Dubois?"I ventured, calling her by her formal title out of habit.She squeezed me tighter in response, her silent acknowledgment that she knew of my plans, had known for quite some time, and was proud of me for taking this bold step.

In this moment, I didn't just feel her absence that would soon rend our lives apart; I also felt the weight of responsibility lift from my shoulders, the anticipation of the unknown, a thrilling whisper in my ear.

Josephine's hands were gentle as she undressed me, slipping the silk robe from my shoulders with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.The gown she held out for me was a vision of cerise, its delicate fabric whispering promises of freedom as she helped me step into it.

"You remember the first time your father took us to the opera?"Josephine asked, her voice a soft hum in the background as she zipped up the dress.The memory was a vivid one, the grandeur of the building juxtaposed against my longing to break free and play in the luxurious boxes.

"I was more interested in the chandeliers than the singers," I chuckled, the sound hollow in the echo of my empty room.Josephine laughed, her fingers deftly weaving my hair into curls that cascaded down my back.

"You were such a curious little thing," she reminisced, her eyes twinkling with the ghost of that little girl."Always questioning, never satisfied with simple answers."

Now I understand why she brought up this memory.She’s saying goodbye without saying it, telling me what she wished she could without fear of being overheard.I had to hold back my tears so they wouldn’t ruin her efforts.

As she applied my makeup, I closed my eyes and felt the gentle caress of the soft brushes against my skin."I guess some things never change," I murmured, opening my eyes to meet her gaze in the mirror.I couldn't help but notice how the eyeliner made my blue eyes appear even more vibrant, especially against the soft, smoky backdrop of the eyeshadow.

"No, they don't," Josephine agreed, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness."But change is good, Darcy.It's how we grow."

As she spoke, I felt the truth of her words deep in my core.I had grown, not just in stature, but in spirit.The girl who had marveled at the chandeliers had become a woman ready to carve her own path in the world.

---