Page 91 of Knot Just for Show

I reach for her face, cupping her soft cheek in my hand as I lean in to kiss her.

“So, I know we’re going for dinner—but I don’t know where! Somewhere fancy obviously.” She does a little twirl—letting me see the entirety of her Dior-esque ensemble. Undoubtedly the work of Julian St. James…I’ll have to see to commissioning some more bespoke pieces from him once we arrive home, the man does exquisite work.

“We’re taking supper at the Jade museum tonight.” I don’t mean for the words to come out so formally, so stiffly. For a split second—I could have sworn I heard my father talking out of my mouth. I’m more than a bit disturbed.

“I see Mister Ewing,” Ursula teases me with a purse of her lips and a toss of her shiny french bob. I know it’s meant as a joke—but inside I’m squirming.

“Following dinner, I would very much like to spend some intimate time together with you…and the rest of the pack,” I force myself to say the words, rather than letting my nerves and this momentary discomfort derail all my hard earned progress.

Ursula’s eyes widen—her mouth quirking up on one side.

“As long as that’s alright with you—of course! It’s not that I wouldn’t—that I don’t want more time alone with you…it’s just that, well I thought that maybe it might be a good opportunity to bridge my lack of experience with our general lack of experience as a pack…” I physically bite my tongue to keep myself from rambling, finally giving poor Ursula the opportunity to get a word in.

Ursula laughs that sharp, staccato laugh that makes her throw her head back—her glasses slipping down slightly on the short bridge of her nose.

“Of course I don’t mind Lysander!” She takes my face in both her hands, planting a kiss firmly on my mouth before rocking back on her heels—a hair taller than me with the added height. “As a matter of fact, I’m most looking forward to it, darling.” She hooks her arm through mine, dropping her head to rest on my shoulder.

“Well then, that’s settled. Let’s not keep Timmy and Kimmy waiting.” I smirk, laying a hand over her own.

“At the risk of getting an answer I might not want to hear,” Ursula begins tentatively, her burnished gold gaze fixed carefully on me as we lower our glasses of champagne after my toast—tiny seafood canapes on a three tiered tower between us. “Have any of you talked about what things might actually look like after the whole…‘experiment?’ Y’know amongst ‘the guys.’”She doesn’t play for outright disinterest, but she’s obviously trying to play it cooler than she feels.

“We have, actually.” I place my flute on the white table linen and compulsively smooth the front of my dinner jacket, the imperceptible bump under my fingers like a balm for my nerves.

“Do tell.” Ursula sits back in her chair, her broad shoulders squared—her posture regal.

“Well, for starters—there’s the matter of a pack name,” I begin nonchalantly, though I can see from the twinge in her full cupid’s bow that Ursula wasn’t asking after such a dull tidbit as this. “Since we’ve come together around you, our omega, rather than an alpha pack lead—there had been the discussion of taking your family name.”

At this Ursula winces.

“Woof, I always hated that my pack decided to hyphenate. While inclusive of the family flavor, it is more than a little unwieldy,” she laughs tentatively, obviously not convinced.

“Which is something we also grappled with, so we thought about possibly using the first letters of our last names, or even syllables—to create a new last name, and nothing quite sounded right.”

She watches me intently, waiting for me to spit it out.

“Eventually, we came to the conclusion that modifying your surname to ‘Gold’ might be the best choice,” I explain before hurriedly clarifying with a little joke: ‘Pack Gold, party of 6’.”

Ursula lets out an unexpectedly loud, full laugh.

“Erm, is there something wrong with it?” I ask, utterly perplexed by her reaction. Disgust? Would have hurt, but I would have been able to understand. Adoration? An outside possibility, but I hadn’t thought it impossible, but just flat out laughing in my face? I hadn’t thought Ursula would be so cruel.

“No, no, no! I’m sorry—here you are sharing something with me that you and the boys have talked over so seriously, andsuddenly it seems like I’m just shooting your idea down.” She reaches across the small table and clasps both of my hands in hers, a smile still pulled across her face.

I relax slightly.

“It’s just…well, you know—once we revealed ourselves, there was a little bit of the recognition game. Obviously I’m not famous like Ash, or even particularly notable about town, like Mavren—but people have seen me about, here and there, or heard me mentioned in conjunction with my best friend.” She gives my hands a squeeze.

“Daphne Dale,” I supply, without meaning to speak over her. Luckily for me, Ursula just nods graciously.

“That’s my girl.” She grins, continuing on. “Now, I can’t say on camera—because I would never do Daphne or her pack like that, but—” Ursula lets go of my hand and gently pinches her sweating water goblet by the stem. She looks at me deliberately before using her pinky finger to trace a word in teensy print in the condensation on the outside of the glass: ‘Silver.’

She allows me a moment to read the word—sees my features light with understanding, then uses her thumb to obliterate the word on the side of the glass, leaving no trace behind.

“Ah! Now I understand why you were so amused. It is incredibly ironic,” I scoff my own laugh at the situation, my hand once more flitting to my jacket pocket for comfort as a waiter arrives with two beautifully composed salad courses.

“Did you discuss anything else, besides pack name?” Ursula presses on as soon as the waiter has left the table.

“There was some discussion about a possible collaboration professionally between the five of us. Mavren has been talking about opening another restaurant, and it would appear everyone has a little something to ‘bring to the table’—no pun intended,” I say carefully, not wanting to give away too much, while alsonot alienating Ursula by being too vague. “I can’t say too much because it’s so early on in our conversations.”

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