Page 53 of Knot the Alphas' Feral Omega

“You grovel.” The words were blunt and simple, and I furrowed my brow as I looked at Emmett. Something in my expression must have been funny because a smirk spread across his face, and he nodded, standing up and shoving his hands in his pocket. “If you want her to forgive you, you’ll have to prove you’re sorry. It won’t be easy, but I don’t think you deserve for it to be easy after the way you’ve had your head stuck up your ass.”

He nodded as if he’d just imparted sage words of wisdom, then turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The clicking of the latch echoed in my head, pulsing on the mild headache that was forming, and I looked around my empty room, letting my guilt fester for one long moment.

Then, I slowly returned to myself, shaking my head and taking a deep breath to clear my thoughts. Emmett was right—forgiveness didn’t come without an apology and the evidence of behavior changed. I couldn’t blame Lilah for looking at me like the source of all her problems downstairs because...well, in this instance, I was.

And it was going to take time for her to forgive me, for her body to realize that I wasn’t going to hurt her again. The reality of Bond Rejection Syndrome made me wince, and the knowledgeof what she was going to be going through over the coming days and weeks only made me more determined to do whatever was necessary to help her.

To earn her forgiveness. To have her back with me.

The realization that Iwantedher back with me made my head spin, and I looked around, licking my lips. The thought of her being in here with me, in my room, in mybed, saturating my sheets with her scent and making my head spin with how much I wanted her...

I needed it. More than the air I breathed.

And I would do whatever was necessary to get it back. I’d had her once...and I would have her again. Fully, this time, without trust issues or trauma standing between us.

Lilah was going to be mine.

28

Lilah

Oliver was in the house. I could feel him nearby, but I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. I was upset at first until Killian and Emmett both sat me down and told me that he was doing everything in his power to give me the space I needed to heal and get better, especially after speaking with the doctor.

There was a peculiar glitter in Emmett’s eyes when he supported Killian in telling me that, one that made me wrinkle my nose, though neither of them told me anything after that point. I wasn’t overly bothered, though I could tell that there was something they weren’t telling me. Was it about Oliver? Did he want me to leave the house again?

The thought of being asked to leave, especially after everything that had transpired in order for me to get back here, made my stomach curdle. So when I finally walked downstairs after Killian called me down for dinner, and the first thing that hit mynose was Oliver’s scent, I could tell that it was time we sat down and had a conversation—arealconversation.

Oliver was at the dining room table as I walked into the kitchen. I could see him sitting with his back straight and his hands clasped together on top of the table. There was something pensive about the way that he was perched on his chair, and when I looked at Killian, he offered me a small, sneaky smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head.

“Go on, baby girl,” he said softly, gently encouraging. “We’ll be right there.”

I swallowed hard but nodded and walked into the dining room. As soon as I entered, Oliver’s blue eyes snapped to me, and his mouth opened, a soft breath of air escaping him.

I stopped in my tracks, my teeth sinking into the inside of my cheek as I looked at him. His eyes glimmered with an indecipherable emotion, and my stomach twisted as his scent filled my nose even stronger. Here, there were no distractions from him, either biologically or otherwise, and my body couldn’t decide if it hated it or loved it more.

I shifted back and forth between my feet, unsure of what to say, but after a few seconds, I chose not to say anything. I pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table from Oliver and sat down, clasping my hands together on top of the table the same way his were.

“Oliver,” I said softly.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he inclined his head. “Lilah,” he greeted in return. His voice was more subdued thanI had ever heard it, and there was something different about how he held himself as he looked at me. A glint of something in his eyes—along with a healthy dose of protectiveness—made me squirm a little. My inner omega purred, suddenly desperate tolaunchmyself across the table at the alpha who was currently looking at me like he wanted nothing more than to gather me in his arms and keep me safe.

Even the thought of that made my heartbeat start to speed up, and I swallowed down the sudden wave of nausea that hit me. My hands trembled a little bit, and Oliver’s eyes darted to them, regret shining strong in his eyes.

I was sorely mistaken if I’d expected an apology at that point. Granted, I couldn’t know whether or not it was something he’d been planning on doing because not five seconds after I sat down, Killian and Emmett joined us in the dining room, both carrying plates of food that they spread out across the top of the table in an unexpected feast.

“Dinner is served,” Killian announced, grinning widely at me and Oliver. Emmett sat on my other side, and Killian perched himself at the head of the table, distributing plates and silverware as he did so. He deposited each item with a ridiculous little flick of the wrist, and when he finished all four settings, he did a little wiggle dance, winking at me.

His antics made me smile, and I took the plate and silverware he offered me with a small nod. “Thank you, Killian,” I said softly.

His responding smile was wide and tender, making butterflies flutter in my stomach alongside the nausea. It was a bit of a mind fuck, the way that my body was stretching towards the three alphas and rebelling against them in turn. I could see Oliverevaluating my every move as I picked up my knife and fork and waited for Killian to serve me, correctly assuming that Killian wouldn’t allow me to serve myself.

Dinner was a large, tender roast garnished with fresh herbs and sides of green beans, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. It felt almost like a Thanksgiving-type dinner, but I didn’t comment on it as Killian deposited my plate back in front of me, loaded with more food than I could possibly eat in one sitting. I knew he was just trying to take care of me, so I didn’t say anything, instead mentally vowing to set aside everything I didn’t eat right now and polish it off later.

A faint layer of tension settled on top of the four of us as we all dug into our food. Nobody spoke; the only sounds in the room were that of our silverware and porcelain and the occasional soft grunt of approval as someone ate something they liked. The food was fantastic, of course; Killian was a good cook, a fact I had learned over the month I had first lived here.

The fact that I was here again...

The thought pulled me up short, and I swallowed a bite of meat and potatoes, setting down my silverware. Of course, Oliver was the first to clock my new hesitation, and he matched me, setting his silverware down in turn.

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