Page 3 of Knot Just A Fan

And it’s fucking exhausting. Because I’ll never be his, not really. But I’ll take this tour, and this time together. Whatever I can get before their Omega slides into the picture and my heart is forced to finally move on, find Betas who are nice and sweetand eager to please even if they leave me cold. I’ll have to grow up, and live on the memories of whatever I could get.

Even though I know, deep down, that would never be enough. And my heart will be broken for good, at some point. But if I can experience even one moment of acknowledgement that somethingcould’ve been, it’s okay. Because unlike my mother, I’ll at least have known what that’s like for one minute.

CHAPTER 2

Briella

TEN YEARS AGO

I wastwenty-three the day everything changed.

Most of our cohort at London’s Finishing Academy had matched with packs. Cami and I were two peas in a pod, soul twins—that’s how we felt with each other, but when other people said it, it felt more like a nudge-nudge, wink-wink acknowledgement of our blatant lack.

Both of us had taken time off between graduating at eighteen and joining the Artists’ Guild. Guilds were training and employment networks for unmatched Omegas to find work that kept them employed, insured, and more or less cared for without a pack to settle down with. Ostensibly, a security net that society nodded along with while patting itself on the back for having sacrificed to institute.

While working for the Guild, most Omegas go on to find eventual packs. But having been friends who’d disastrously dated random Betas off and on throughout our Academy years, we both knew we weren’t on the typical path.

I longed to belong, but had never felt that spark with any packs I’d known, and they’d never fallen for my scent. No one ever mentioned it, to be honest.

And Cami, well, Cami didn’twanta pack. Not after what happened with the Juniper Road Pack. Not after believing she was destined to be their mate, then be left in a basement flat in Bath when the pack decided they couldn’t commit to an Omega who refused to give up the thing most important to her: her art. So Cami’s sworn off packs forever, dedicated herself to a lifetime of suppressants, and the refusal to settle down with anyone.

She’s had occasional hookups, but I’ve never believed her heart to be in it. Never seen that glimmer in her eyes when you’ve met someone you’re dying to overanalyze with your best friend.

So we both needed the security of the network, mentors, and lecturers of the Guild to guide us, as well as the insurance the Guild offers to pay for the heat suppressants we rely on to protect us. Not to mention any other medical needs. But the Guild was notorious for placing entrants in thebest suitedindustry, and it might not be one you’ve even applied for. They just stuck people wherever the work was.

On our first day at the Guild, Cami and I occupied a bench outside the lecture hall where our intro module would take place. She slurped down a soda while I nursed a coffee. And we were both bricking it.

“What if I’m the only illustrative artist at all?” she said for at least the third time. “What if they try to lump me in with textiles or fashion or some shit I don’t want to do? Then what?”

“Mate, it will befine. I personally would prefer a smaller group than being placed in the gargantuan fuck-off crowd of graphic designers who are just going to be taught to stick to templates instead of using their brains.”

Truth be told, I was a bit nervous she wouldn’t get her wish. That neither of us would.

“I don’t want to switch regions. I want to be with you.”

“If our network doesn’t have a single other painter, I’ll eat my damn hat. Honestly, don’t worry. I know it’ll work out,” I insisted. “If it doesn’t, I’ll eat my hat.”

Cami finished her soda and chucked her can in the recycle bin, then hitched her enormous tote on her shoulder. “You’re not a hat person.” She stuck her tongue out and I pursed my lips like I was blowing her a kiss.

We filed into the lecture hall which echoed with nervous movement, boots on steps, and arranging of bags and beverage containers. I looked around like I might recognize a face or two, but there was no chance. All of our graduating class had come straight here four years ago, if they hadn’t joined packs. Cami and I were sure to be the oldest newbies in the room. We’d both worked, sometimes together, sometimes not, always sharing a flat though. And then, we we’d had our fill of late London nights closing down diners and pubs, taking in all the art and experiences the city had to offer—and when our post-Academy insurance wore off—we applied to the Guild, and got in.

“Lovely to see you all,” started a woman probably younger than us, in a pencil skirt at a podium in the front. “Now that we’re all here—Gray’s just counted sixty-two, and that’s what I’ve got on my list—we can make a start.”

Cami had her arms crossed, and her phone balanced on the edge of the desk as I gazed at the crowd of mentors ready to take us off into groups. It was a gaggle of about eighteen different bodies standing uncomfortably at the front behind the young woman.

“Today you’ll be split into your various network streams. You’ll probably end up working with some of the other people you see around you, and you’ll have quarterly meetings here in this room to check in. But we don’t like to waste time, since some of you might’ve already done that.”

A round of chuckles rolled around and the woman’s eyes buzzed like bees until they landed on Cami and I. My face and neck reddened, but I resisted the urge to sink into my seat. Under the workspace I saw Cami lift a covert two-finger salute to the woman at the front.

The woman’s dyed-red hair fell to her shoulders in an over-straightened curtain. She was pretty, with chiseled features and a straight back, in that no-nonsense, professional way that gave me the sense she was a total stickler and would be on our arses if we so much as looked like we wanted to snicker.

“So, without further ado—” They way she said it likeadieusent a warning snort out of me. Cami nudged me in the ribs.

“Don’t even, Phillips,” she said, but I could hear the restraint in her voice.

“Oh wait, there is one more ado, I forgot.”

Another snort choked out of me, and Cami shook silently.

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