Page 52 of Break Me Knot

A plan begins to form in my head. It’s clear I won’t survive the weather if I try to leave now. I’ll use the time and get healthier. Stronger. I’ll wait until it stops snowing and then I’ll ask Cole to help me disappear. I’ll run away from these alphas who are too good to be true and never look back.

I ignore the pang of regret that slices through me at the thought, because it seems I can’t even trust myself.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mira

Isurface slowly from sleep, morning light from the bedroom outside filtering into the closet. I'm tangled in my blankets, but they're infused with a mixture of scents that makes me sigh with contentment. Smoked cedar and spiced vanilla, dark amber and citrus, leather and pine all wrapped around me in a cocoon of safety. I rolled myself burrito-style in them while I slept.

I sniff the blankets. There’s another scent not normally there. Fabric softener, which merges in with their scents. The blankets are clean. Thestains I’ve never been able to get out are gone. The holes that were worn into the threadbare weave are mended. Who did that?

Memory filters back. I'd whimpered for their shirts, their sweaters, anything carrying their scents. Even Cole's shirt is wrapped around me, and something in my chest aches at the way his scent soothes me despite his absence. What kind of omega am I, to want an alpha who clearly doesn't want me? To find comfort in the scent of someone who can't stand to be near me?

The stress fractures barely holding me together begin to crackle and scratch. I need to hold them together. Need to bring them back into place. I close my eyes and clench my fists.

The sound of voices and clinking cutlery drifts through the closed bedroom door from the kitchen, accompanied by the rich aroma of coffee and something sweet. Breakfast time. I’m hungry yet again, but I can't face them. Not after last night's revelations about scents and mates and things I don't understand. No thanks. I'll hide here in my nest like the coward I am. Like the pathetic omega I try not to be.

I’m better physically. The intense exhaustion has lifted somewhat, replaced by a clarity of thought I'd forgotten was possible, but a strange sensation still scratches under my skin. Like heated pins and needles trying to break free. And worse, I'm aroused. Their scents surrounding me all night have left me wet, needy in a way that has nothing to do with heat and everything to do with them. With how right they smell. With how safe I feel.

Could Adrian be right? Am I their mate? My body is down with that idea, but my mind rebels.

Either way, it will end the same way. Me being bonded and living in real and metaphysical chains for the rest of my pathetic life. Thank you, fucked up biology.

Disgusted with wanting everything my omega heart makes me desire, I peel their clothes off my body, trying not to whimper at the loss of their scents. I need a shower to wash away these confusing emotions and dangerous wants. I need to remember who I am and why I don’t want this.

When I step into the bedroom, I freeze. Shopping bags line the wall, dozens of them, from expensive stores at which I've only ever window-shopped. Nordstrom, Bloomingdale's. Most are from specialty omega boutiques I would never have stepped foot inside. My stomach drops as I remember Zane's “joke” shopping yesterday; how he'd made me laugh with ridiculous selections.

Except, apparently, it wasn't a joke at all. He noted everything I actually liked.

I tiptoe to the bags, unable to resist peeking inside. My stomach clenches at the sight of soft sweaters, leggings that look warm and comfortable, practical boots but also delicate slip-ons. Everything is high quality but understated, exactly what I would choose if I could afford to choose anything at all.

Another bag reveals fluffy blankets in the sage green I'd lingered over during our “joke” shopping, satin pillows edged with pearl beading that had caught my eye, nesting materials that make me keen with want. Zane noticedeverything…every pause, every lingering look, every small sign of appreciation I thought I'd hidden.

My fingers itch to dive into the bags, to pull everything out and surround myself with this thoughtful bounty. My omega side is salivating at the gifts, at the care they represent, at the way these alphas want to provide for me. The throbbing between my legs intensifies, and that's dangerous. I can't even blame it on heat anymore. This is pure want, pure omega response to caring alphas.

But everything comes with a price, and these gifts come with the highest price of all. Bonding rights. The more I accept, the more they'll expect in return. The more they'll presume entitlement to my submission, my body, my freedom.

And I’m a bomb that will detonate and blast us all apart with the secrets I keep.

It can’t happen. I have to remember that fact, no matter how much my biology wants to roll over and bare her belly. I turn tail and rush into the bathroom, away from temptation.

The hot water cascades over me, but instead of washing their scents away, the steam intensifies them. Their combined scents rise from my skin making my head foggy with arousal. They have become part of me in some fundamental way.

The strange warmth that never quite went away after my heat builds, transforming from uncomfortable pins and needles to molten desire. Every drop of water is a caress, sending shivers through my oversensitive body. My nipples tighten, sensitive against the spray of water, and I have to bite back a whimper. I'm swollen and aching between my legs, slick gathering despite the shower's flow.

I can't go out there like this, desperate and wanting. They'll smell it on me, scent my arousal. I have to take care of this first. Have to get myself under control. My hand slides down my stomach, finding my clit already swollen and sensitive. The first touch makes me gasp. I'm more aroused than I've ever been outside of heat. I try to keep my mind blank as I touch myself, try to maintain some semblance of control, but their scents surround me, making resistance impossible.

Images flood my mind… Adrian's strong hands that touch with such gentleness, Zane's bright smile that makes my heart flutter, and even Cole's brooding presence that stirs that something deep inside me. I imagine their touches, careful but claiming, tender but possessive. The way Adrian's fingers might feel against my skin, how Zane's lips might taste, what Cole's growl might sound like in my ear.

My fingers move faster, circles tightening around my clit as fantasy overtakes reality. Their scents grow stronger, or maybe I'm just more attuned to them now.

I shouldn't want this. Shouldn't imagine their hands instead of my own, shouldn't picture their bodies pressing against mine, shouldn't dream of how it would be to have all three of them touching me, claiming me, making me come.

The fantasy is too much, too real, too dangerous to contemplate.

But I can't stop.

Don't want to stop.

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