Page 103 of Knot Just for Show

Teddy crosses his arms protectively in front of his chest, but nods solemnly in the affirmative.

Nothing left to do but help Anton up off his ass, and wait to see if the consequences of this action land me and the rest of our pack in a disciplinary disqualification and ejection from the show.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ash

We’re barely inside the large wooden front door when the shouting starts.

“What the fuck happened back there!?” Mavren barks, blocking Teddy from taking off up the stairs and toward the mezzanine patio.

“I don’t know why you’re riding my dick so hard,” Teddy growls, squaring up with Mavren—the two almost nose to nose. “He’s a douche from a pack I didn’t decide to court—precisely because I didn’t like him or his damn omega.” Teddy’s voice is low and guttural as he and Mavren begin to strafe one another, still a hair’s breadth apart.

While I’m similarly frustrated by the unfolding of this afternoon’s events, as a delta within the pack without my place in thehierarchyin danger of being displaced,most of my worry had been abated when Kimmy and Timmy had pulled our pack aside to issue a warning about the physical altercation while also informing us that Anton had been issued a similar warning about putting hands on another contestant on the show without their consent—as he’d been on the precipice of doing when Lysander interceded. Though we had been advised that these would be the first and final warnings for all parties involved; Kimmy and Timmy admitted they doubted there would be any further issue—and believed our apologies to be genuine.

Even without the prospect of being kicked off the show, I found my adrenals rising again with things really going sideways now that we’d all gotten back to the villa; the proper venue for airing grievances and getting answers.

“Bullshit,” Ronan pipes up from the peanut gallery, hands on his hips.

“Can it, Ronan, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Teddy snipes back—his eyes never leaving Mavren’s.

At the edge of my vision, I catch sight of Lysander and Ursula. Ursula, holding her breath—standing on tip-toe; like a bird at the edges of a forest—preparing to take flight at the first sight of flame, the first sound of gunfire. Lysander, full of beautiful lamentation like a martyring portrait; his sorrowful frown carved deep into his face, his large brown eyes watery with pain.

I want to scoop them up and take them away from this conflict—this blemish on our otherwise perfect stay in paradise; but I’m also angry with Teddy and his strange behavior, my old doubts and distrust newly inflamed by Anton’s cryptic attacks on Teddy’s character.

“Don’t tell him it’s bullshit. We all saw you ducking Lysander in front of Anton,” I back Ronan up while doing my best to keep my voice calm and level.

There’s a distinct temperature change in the room as Teddy flinches at my words.

“And what the fuck was that business about you ‘being the same’?” Lysander jumps in, having found his voice through his hurt feelings.

Teddy’s knife sharp posture softens, his jaw unclenching as he steps back from Mavren—the fight gone out of him; his hands fluttering up to cover his face—moving slowly back through his hair as he lets out a long hissing breath.

“Listen, I’m not proud of it—but when I first met Anton in Britt’s pack lounge, he and I kind of did a bit of shit talking,” Teddy explains carefully. “But that’s all it was—shit talking, the kind of stuff that you shouldn’t say but you end up saying because some other dude just assumes you’re part of the club and it’s easier to go along and play nice rather than make waves.” Teddy spreads his hands wide—making his case.

“Ok, fine—that explains how that douche nozzle was under the impression you were bros.” Mavren waves the idea off like a persistent fly on a summer day. “But what about the fact that you totally fucking bailed on your omega when you knew that Britt was going to be a problem.” Mavren glowers at him.

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” Teddy pleads, beginning to make tight pacing loops inside the rest of the pack circled around him. “I know that it’s not exactly an attractive admission, but I’m not really used to looking out for anyone other than myself,” Teddyflounders, his hands turned palm up as if in request—though he hasn’t actually apologized or asked for forgiveness. “I saw Anton and the other dipshits from Britt’s lounge and just bugged the fuck out. I tried to avoid him, but he was obviously the one determined to make trouble about it—and now I’m the one paying for it.”

A stifling silence falls over the room.

Lysander is the first to break it.

“Are you…ashamed of me? Of our pack?” he asks plainly, his voice small and laced with such sorrow that Ursula begins to cry silently as soon as the words have left his lips.

I find myself poised—to do what—I’m not sure. The energy has shifted down—my calming scent or purring wouldn’t be of much use. Not to mention, Lysander could put all of us down for an evening nap if he were so inclined. So, all I can do is wait.

“Of course I’m not ashamed of you!” Teddy’s face breaks into a pained expression—his body suddenly in motion toward Lysander, his hands outstretched.

Mirroring the earlier events of the day, Lysander turns away from him—denying Teddy the comforting reassurance of his touch.

“Then why did you shrug me off? Why wouldn’t you let me take your hand?” Lysander sniffles, his eyes fixed on his own bare feet on the concrete.

Teddy makes a strangled sound that isn’t quite a word, his hand still hanging in the air between them.

“How come I was the one who had to stand up to that bully?” Lysander sniffles, his tone shifting to indignance, his head lifting to look Teddy in the eyes—tears and snot running down his beautiful, boyish face. “I had thought you were going to be my pack lead someday…but you just let him treat me like shit, you let him talk badly about Ursula, and if I hadn’t stepped in—you would have let him put hands on her,” Lysander practically spitsthe last at Teddy with tangible contempt—anger rising in me as his words ring true in my heart.

“Lysander…” Teddy breathes, his own eyes welling with tears.

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