Page 12 of Knot All That Glitters: Part 2

She rolls her eyes and finishes shrugging into her coat. “You’re just about the only person I like besides my family. But you already knew that.” I did know that.

Florence is a sunshine girl. She’s fun and bubbly and everyone likes her, gravitates toward her, wants to soak up some of that light. She can start a conversation with anyone, and leave them feeling like they’re her best friend, but rarely does Ren feel the same. The result is that she has a lot of acquaintances, but not a lot of friends. Just me.

It’s part of why we bonded at the academy. We both need a lot to feel like we can truly trust someone, like we can be friends for life.

She comes to the side of the bed and presses a kiss on my forehead. “Love you, Haven babe.”

“Love you too.”

As the door clicks shut behind her, I settle against the pillows, feeling wrung out all over again. I don’t want to think about the Calloway pack and what they’ve done to me, don’t want to figure out why. Chances are they don’t have a good reason. Some alphas are just bad. They treat omegas and betas like toys, like possessions and objects to be used and discarded.

They probably thought up the game before they picked the omega they would play with. And then when they found me, realized I would be so fucking willing to let them do this to me. Starved for alpha attention. Naïve to a fault. Mouselike, quiet, small, easily manipulated. But also my omega instincts were buried under a mountain of suppressants and my father gleefully told anyone who would listen that I was more beta than omega.

They took one look at me and decided I would be the perfect toy, a challenge in some respects, but still easily led astray in others. Yeah, where would the fun be in doing this with a normal omega who embraced all her instincts, who had no shame in her sexual desires or her need for an alpha? Most omegas would happily climb on an alpha knot and ride, but not me. Or at least they had to think I wouldn’t, that I would make it more of a competition.

I wonder if they were disappointed or happy when I gave into them so easily.

I mean, I let them finger me in public within a few days of being with them.

I push the thought aside and make myself stop thinking about them. Make myself instead focus on what I’m going to do moving forward. I can’t stay here in this city. I’ll need to move,find somewhere safe for me, away from my father, away from the Calloway pack.

Away from Florence.

That makes my heart pang. But it’ll be safer for her if I disappear, too.

Which means I won’t have time to rest up at the Karlin house. I’ll need to move as soon as I can. If I had my phone, I’d start now, reaching out to the omega crisis centers in town. But I left my phone and all of my worldly possessions with the Calloway pack.

That’s okay.

I can start over, build a new life for myself from scratch.

My exhausted body keeps me from making any solid plans, dragging me down to a light doze. Or maybe not so light since I dream about the Calloway pack, about them holding me, loving me. About them wanting to keep me forever.

I jerk awake with tears on my cheeks when the door opens and I have a moment of blurry, anxious hope that they’re here. That the men I thought would be my pack have come to check on me, to see me. That hope withers and dies the momenthissuit covered body slides through the door.

The unpleasant metallic tang of his scent makes my nose wrinkle. I’m even more sensitive to it now. Now that I’ve been away from him for so long. Now that I’ve been free of him for more than a month.

Nausea rolls my stomach, makes my mouth water unpleasantly, and the water I sipped before dozing threatens to come up. My scent burns bitter in the air, and I’m unable to stop the whine from spilling from my chest. Panic. That’s what I’m feeling. Panic. Because he shouldn’t be here. I told them not to let him in.

But then when have the rules ever applied to Frederick Bell?

My hand twitches toward the call button, but his voice swipes out, his dominance pressing down on me. “Do not move.”

I feel it, feel the weight of his command, and then it slides off. I let out a breath when Hale’s command stays firmly in place, allowing me freedom from my father’s bark. Still, I don’t move. No need to let him know he can’t control me anymore. Not when I’m here alone with him. Not when there are plenty of other things he can do to hurt me.

It’s better he thinks I’m still an easily controlled little mouse until I can get away from him.

The door closes with an ominous click, and I can’t stop the shudder that runs through me as he approaches the bed slowly. “You have caused me a great deal of embarrassment and trouble recently, Haven.”

I don’t bother to say anything. I know he doesn’t expect or want a response. If I was braver, I’d scoff, shake my head, tell him to go fuck himself. But I am not brave. Not right now. Right now I’m broken, I’m exhausted, I’m too messed up in my head and my heart to be brave. So I just stay still and silent as he sits on the edge of my hospital bed and runs a hand down his face.

“Thankfully, I’ve been able to keep the story from breaking. How would it look if it got out that my daughter went into heat in public?” He tsks, shaking his head and pinning me with a disappointed, angry look. “I thought you had better control of your instincts.” My eyes widen in alarm when he reaches into his inner coat pocket and extracts a syringe full of something that I know, down to my very bones, will not be good for me.

“Don’t-” I say, jerking away from him, fully intending to throw myself off the bed and onto the floor to escape him. But he’s fast, so fucking fast and in an instant he has me pinned to the bed, one big hand wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air, cutting off my voice.

“Do not fight me,” he grits out and I don’t, but only because the idea of him choking me until I pass out is too horrible to comprehend. I need to know what’s happening, what he’s doing, what his plans are. I won’t know any of that if I’m unconscious.

My hands curl into fists in the blankets, gripping them to keep from fighting back. “Good,” he grunts even though he shouldn’t realize I didn’t comply of my own accord. He should think his bark worked.

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