Page 36 of Knot Just for Show

“Why so scared?” I chuckle gently, worrying at the paper towel bundle of grapes in my lap. “There’s no need to be nervous. I was planning on asking you today…after we had a few important conversations, that is,” I mumble, a little bashfully.

“Important conversations?” Lysander parrots back, no sign of his apprehension to be found.

“Tell me why you were so worried about asking me first—then we can get to that,” I deflect, squirming in my seat.

“Fair,” he sighs before continuing on, “While it would be…technically against the rules of the competition, suffice to say that I’m worried that you might not like what you get on my scent card.” Lysander answers tightly.

“Oh, I see.” I don’t really know exactly what he’s getting at with that comment—my mind begins to spin. Could they have hidden another omega or sigma amongst the men!? What a twist that would be for this season. Hardly a dealbreaker for me, but I know many of the women I’m competing with would not abide another omega or sigma in their pack.

“Alright, your turn.” As if he’s just slapped the timer during a chess match after declaring ‘Knight B to D2’ or something.

Already somewhat back on the defensive, I gather my wits about me and prepare to make yetanothersoul-bearing confession.

“Well, as you know—exchanging scent cards is only one of the upcoming bridges we have to cross if we’re going to continue exploring our connection through this…” I stop myself from callingBuild-A-Pack-Blinda dating show or a reality program—even though that’s exactly what it is. The producers insist that we refer to the entire process as either the ‘experience’, ‘experiment’, or (most cringey of all) ‘adventure’.

From the others I would expect some sort of noise of ascent or affirmation—but with Lysander, I’m somehow not surprised by the stony silence that meets my flimsy preamble.

“For example, tonight I’m planning on exchanging scent cards with at least four, possibly five, of you,” I continue, my voice still firm and calm, even though my adrenal system feels as though it’s dropped from the first major hill of a roller coaster route.

I allow that morsel of information to sit out in the open for a moment before I press on.

“All the men who elect to continue dating me after we exchange scent cards will then be allowed to start to mingle together until the reveal.” I level with him before allowing another pause, one Lysander gracefully steps into this time.

“Yes, and if any of us are also still courting another of the ladies—we can interact with men from that potential pack aswell—as long asthe packsstay otherwise siloed,” he confirms, sounding almost bored.

The cognitive dissonance of his supposed nerves and apparent lack of them trips me up a moment, but I find my footing—cautiously moving forward.

“Well, about that,” I take a deep breath, doing my best not to crush the grapes still clutched in my worrying grip. “I have been doing my best to be transparent with all of my potential matches about my stance on interpack relationships.”

Again, I wait for him to take up the silent slack—but he does not, opting to allow me to finish the thought before volunteering any reaction.

“My personal stance is an open one.” I clear my throat, flush heating my cheeks though I’m doing my best to sound analytical—academic even. “I welcome and encourage any exploration between my fellow pack members, but do not have any expectations or requirements of your…” I rack my brain for the right word and decide on a selection with a distinct air of chilly remove—as not to seem the slavering horndog, “Congress,” I conclude, pleased with myself.

Queen to Rook 5. I think, smugly–slapping my own mental time clock and passing the conversational baton back to Lysander.

“Oh…I see. That’s good to know,” he answers, a small crack in his voice the only tell that he might not be handling as placid as he seems.

Really? That’s it? That’s all I get for dangling the idea of schtupping one of his fellow pack members before he and I end up getting to see one another face to face, in front of him? ‘Good to know?’”

I have to admit, I’m a little underwhelmed by his tacit response. Then again, it’s a lot to process, and he did say that hewas dealing with nerves earlier—even if it hasn’t seemed to be impacting him that much from where I stand.

“Then there’s the matter of the vacation—and the trial heat…” I trail off.

This time, I allow the silence to fall like a thin blanket of snow, waiting for him to inform me how this discussion is going to progress.

There is a shockingly long period of quiet before Lysander finally asks:

“Was I…supposed to say something there? I feel like I missed something and I don’t want to fuck this up,” he speaks so softly that I can barely hear him from the other side of the wall.

I feel a small pang of shame for my slightly manipulative silence.

“I mean, I don’t know if you were supposed to say something—but I guess I figured you might volunteer at least some indication of how you felt about the prospect of being physically intimate—especially in the context of a heat.” I am quick to add, “Not that I’m angling for your designation or anything, that’s not what I’m trying to get at—not at all.”

“Oh—you mean, like—am I looking forward to it?” his voice cracks again, and I can tell he’s trying to cover his embarrassment as he clears his throat before he speaks again, “Because, if that’s what you mean—then yes obviously I…I mean I look forward to—it’s not the only thing I’m looking forward to; but I most certainly—” he fumbles over his words, and any doubts I had fizzle into nothing.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I cut in, saving him from himself. I can tell from the heavy sigh that escapes him that he is mightily relieved for my rescue. Of course, this is likely to be temporary—as I am about to yeet him from the frying pan into the flames.

“I know that it’s not exactlyideal, but it will be the first heat I will be experiencing as an omega. I’m not a virgin, but I’venever allowed my heat cycle to pass unsuppressed. With my prospective pack—will be the first time.”

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