Page 19 of Break Me Knot

Adrian guides me to a stool at the island counter, and I perch on the edge clutching my pack in my lap. Everything is surreal, the luxury surrounding me, the three alphas moving around their space with easy familiarity, the way they seem content to feed me instead of... other things.

Zane tugs at my pack. My fingers tighten around it when he tries to lift it. “It’s okay, Mira. I’m going to put it on the floor just here where you can see it. You can’t eat and hold it at the same time.”

I make my fingers relax and ignore the smile that lights his face. He does what he said he would and leans my pack against the wall close to me. I force my gaze from the pathetic, ragged bundle that looks so out of place in this luxury penthouse as Adrian fills a glass with orange juice and slides it across the counter to me.

“You’ll need the sugar,” he says.

Of course. Can’t have the omega fainting halfway through knotting her. My sugared scent turns bitter and I ignore the strained look that crosses Adrian’s face.

Cole works at the stove with efficient movements, his back rigid with tension. The smell of cooking onion makes my stomach cramp, but I force myself to sip the juice slowly, even at the first, delicious taste. The last thing I need is to throw up in this spotless kitchen.

“Do you prefer chicken or beef in your soup?” Cole asks without turning around, his voice gruff.

The question is so normal, so mundane, that I almost laugh. Or cry. I'm not sure which. It’s been so long since I had a choice, that even this small one is monumental. “I... chicken?” I manage, hating how uncertain I sound.

I ignore the frown etched into Adrian’s brow. At least they're feeding me first, before they demand what I don’t want to give, not that what an omega wantshas ever stopped any alpha before. That's more consideration than most alphas would show.

Chapter Nine

Cole

Ikeep my back turned as I chop vegetables, using the mundane task to ground myself against the chaos of emotions tearing through me. Her scent calls to something deep inside me, something I thought died with Lily. Every fiber of my being screams to protect, to claim, to make right all the wrongs that have brought her to this state.

But I can't. I won't.

I made myself a promise that I’ll never have another omega, and I plan to honor that vow.

Still, I can't help cataloging every detail of Mira through my peripheral vision. She's tiny, drowning in that stained cleaning uniform that hangsoff her too-thin frame. Her auburn hair would be beautiful if it wasn't tangled in sweaty strands around her face. But it's her eyes that gut me, fierce green fire that burns with defiance despite her obvious neglect, fear and exhaustion. She's fucking breathtaking, even in this state. I can barely think how I’ll be when she’s put on weight and looking healthy. She’ll be fuckingirresistible.

Her scent floods the kitchen, making my cock throb with an urgency I can't control. When I lick my bottom lip, catching the drop of venom that's beaded on my teeth, the sweetness hits me. Potent, addictive, filling every dark recess of my soul. I hate this instinctive response. Hate how she belongs in our space like she was meant to be here all along. But what I hate most is how my alpha side knows her as ours, claims her as mate, perfect and inevitable, even as I rage against this undeniable pull.

Fate is a cruel bitch, bringing us a perfect scent match to bond, when I can't... when I won't...

The knife comes down harder than necessary on an innocent carrot. Adrian and Zane's concern bleeds through our pack bond, but I ignore them. I have to. I’m being selfish. Stupid and… she’s their scent match, too.

Watching her perch on that stool, clutching that pitiful pack filled with rags she calls clothes and blankets, shatters the empty space in my chest where my heart should beat. When was the last time someone took care of her? Her collarbones stand out too sharply, her wrists are too delicate, her face too pale.

The soup comes together quickly, chicken, vegetables and gentle herbs that won't upset a starved stomach, because that’s what she is. Starved. For everything. My hands work automatically while my mind wages war between wanting to run and wanting to gather her close, to feed her, to make her understand she really is safe with us despite her obvious distrust.

I can’t blame her for feeling everything she does. Omegas do not travel an easy road.

I ladle the soup into a bowl, the motion more aggressive than necessary. “Eat all of it,” I growl, setting it in front of her with more force than intended. Her scent spikes with fear, and I hate myself for causing her distress.

I have to get out of here before I do something stupid like try to comfort her. Like tell her how every alpha instinct I possess is screaming to protect and claim and keep. So I do what I do best… I storm out of the kitchen like the coward I am, leaving Adrian and Zane to deal with our omega who isn't ours, can't be ours,shouldn'tbe ours.

Because of me.

I escape to our private gym, unable to be in the same space as her for another second. Her scent, heavy in our penthouse and thickening every second because of her heat, follows me even here, clinging to my clothes, my skin.

My consciousness.

The state-of-the-art facility usually brings me peace, with its rows of professional equipment, the boxing ring, the wall of windows overlooking the city. But tonight, even this sanctuary is tainted.

I wrap my hands, muscle memory taking over while my mind spins. The heavy bag welcomes me as I begin a brutal combination of strikes. Each hit should drive her from my thoughts. The way she clutched those pathetic blankets, how small she looked in our kitchen, the fear and utter distrust in her eyes.

Sweat soaks through my shirt as I push harder, faster. Zane's face floats in my mind, the way he looked at her with such hope, such certainty. He thinks we can keep her. Thinks she'll stay, become our omega, complete our pack. I've seen that look before, that desperate desire for what biology tells us we need. I went that route before and never clawed back from the other side.

I wonder, if Lily had lived, whether or not I would have ever met Adrian and Zane. I was a young sole alpha when I found her. A stupid naive kid who fell head over heels for the first omega whose scent called to me. If Lily had lived, would we have formed a different pack? Would I have found different bond brothers than the ones who are now cemented in my soul? Would that have been a weaker connection than the bond I have with Adrian and Zane?

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