Page 20 of Knot the Alphas' Feral Omega

I nodded, feeling him approach behind me. “Okay,” I said softly.

I felt the puff of his breath against the back of my neck, and it didn’t take an empath to feel the tension that was radiating off him in waves. I swallowed, part of me aching to glance over my shoulder and meet his intense blue eyes to know what he was thinking. The man was nowhere near as mysterious as he thought he was, and I knew if I looked, I would be able to see his every thought written all over his face.

I didn’t, though—not because I wasn’t curious, but because I didn’t think my inner omega could handle it if he were considering rejecting me.

He had agreed that we couldtryto see where things would go with us.

That didn’t mean that trying would be successful.

The thought of failing with this pack and never seeing any of them again soured in my stomach, and I lifted my chin as I walked into the dining room. The table was beautifully set with porcelain plates, shining silverware, and lit candles in the middle. The overhead lighting was dimmed, giving everything a very romantic feel.

Killian wanted this to work out so badly. I could feel it in every detail of the room, in the very atmosphere, as I heard low male voices echoing quietly from the kitchen.

I wanted to give that to him. I wanted this to work, too...desperately.

“Here.” Oliver’s voice was strangely subdued, and he pulled out one of the chairs near the head of the table for me to sit in—the chair to the very right of the head, to be specific.

My stomach flipped as I sat down. I hadn’t been around many bonded packs but knew the social hierarchy like any other wolf. The omega—the pack’s mate—always sat to the right of the Prime Alpha.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from speaking, instead looking down at my lap and reveling in the tiny burst of joy Oliver’s gesture had given me. I would have thought that it was casual, something that he did without thinking, but the way that Oliver looked down at me when he rounded the edge of the table, his hands tucked firmly in his pockets and his eyes gleaming gold...

No. He knew what he was doing and what he was offering me.

It gave me hope, and I smiled at Oliver, reaching out and touching the chair at the head. “Sit?”

I kept my voice deliberately soft, not wanting to scare him away. Oliver didn’t seem the type to be easily spooked, which made it fascinating that he seemed so wary of me. Killian had told me a tiny piece of the history they shared as a pack, and I was surethat the loss of their packmate had different impacts on all of them.

I wanted to know everything about each of them—who they were, what they wanted, what they believed in. I wanted to take every bit of them into myself and make it my own, to fill them up in turn and give them the support they needed for us to go forward in life as a family.

Oliver swallowed, and after a moment, he obeyed my request and sat. He didn’t take his eyes off me for a moment, but I didn’t let his wariness deter me this time. I reached out and gently touched his knee, smoothing my hand over the soft wool of his pants and then patting him, the contact—as innocent as it was—zinging up my arm and making my hand tingle.

“I’m not going to bite,” I teased, smiling.

Too late, I realized that my words could have been chosen more tactfully when a burst of arousal warmed the air between the two of us and made both of our nostrils flare. Oliver let out a low growl and leaned close, his eyes gold and his posture suddenly predatory.

“No, you don’t, do you, omega?” he murmured. He reached out, his hand only hesitating for a moment before he grasped a lock of my hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers. “That’s my job.”

A low purr filled the air between us, and too late, I realized that the sound was coming from me. The realization startled me so badly that the purr immediately stopped, and Oliver cocked his head to the side, a small smile spreading across his mouth.

Before either of us could comment on it, though, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Killian and Emmett entered the room, each holding several plates and balancing others on their forearms like they were skilled servers in a restaurant.

“Dinner!” Killian announced.

Oliver leaned back, and the moment we had been sharing was broken as Killian and Emmett arranged the food on the table. There were more than a dozen dishes, with meat and sides galore, and I couldn’t stop myself from giggling a little as Killian came around to my side and took the seat next to me.

“You went overboard,” I accused good-naturedly.

Killian smiled and took my plate from me, loading it up without asking me what I wanted. “No such thing for you, baby girl.”

He leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek, and Emmett offered me a small, shy smile as he and Oliver started to serve themselves as well. Killian deposited my plate in front of me and started loading his own plate, and after a moment, I started eating.

The silence between the four of us was heavy but not uncomfortable. I could feel Killian glancing my way every few seconds, his energy happy and positive as he started eating and reached out to put his hand on top of my knee.

The contact soothed me, and I smiled at him before returning my attention to my plate. Most people might have been uncomfortable with the silence, but I spent enough evenings alone that being around others was comforting, even if it was quiet.

A sentiment that clearly wasn’t shared by the men around me.

“Oh my god, can someone say something?” Killian finally said, his voice low and hushed, as if he were afraid to be the one to break the silence.

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