Page 26 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

I've seen it before.Lived it before.Won't let it happen again.

None of my brothers needs to go through that agonizing pain…especially Vale. It would kill him. Literally.

"Right," Vale agrees, but something in his tone makes me pause. "No need for some bitch who's going to try to sugarcoat us with some glistening pussy and empty promises."

The crude words sound wrong coming from him.Forced.Like he's trying too hard to convince himself.

"We don't need an omega," I say firmly. "Pack's in agreement on that."

Have to be.

Can't risk anything else.

I turn to leave, muscles aching from the workout, skin itching for a shower, but Vale's voice stops me at the door.

"Wouldn't be against it now, though."

The words are so soft I almost miss them.

Almost convinced myself I imagined them.

But I know I didn't.

I stand there, frozen, as the implications sink in. As I realize what he's really saying:

Time's running out.

Things are changing…but does it mean we have to change too?

Something I dare admit I am frightened of.

Because Vale's not just talking about the pack needing an omega. He's talking about wanting to see something good before the end. About leaving something behind besides war stories and battle scars.

Having a few instances with the pack filled with happiness, joyful interaction, cozy nights, and moments of pure bliss I’m sure we’ve all forgotten what it feels to be lost in.

All the things we’ve forced ourselves to be ignorant to because the reality is, that wanting such a reality hurts too much.

And we’re all tired of the fucking pain.

My hands clench at my sides, nails biting into my palms. I want to turn around. Wish to express something…anything.

But what can you say to that kind of truth?

What can you say when your dying brother admits he's ready for something you've all been running from?

Nothing.

Absolutely fucking nothing…

So I walk away.

Pretend I didn't hear the sweet confession.

Even as my chest aches with longing, my mind dares to wonder if he’s right.

His words follow me, even as I walk down the hall, echoing over and over again like some sort of forbidden prophecy presented to us from the depths of an ancient book of hidden spells and magic.

A spellbound promise that hisses in warning, wishing a brave enough soul would have the guts to read it out loud and make the sweet dreams into reality.

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