Page 31 of Knot My Luck

I press my palms against the dresser, grounding myself for one last second before I grab my bag, fingers curling tight around the strap as I make for the door.

“Clover, please?—”

I don’t stop. The anguish, desperation and heartbreak in Tadhg’s tone is enough to make me stall, but I push on.

The hallway is a shock of cool air against my overheated skin. I didn’t even stop for my underwear, I realise, as slick and cum start to slide down my thighs. Fuck. I should go to my room and freshen up first. Maybe grab some slick-absorbing panties from my case too.

My omega whines. Not just at leaving. At leavingthem. She wants to stay and nest and mate with her alphas. But I tamp those instincts down. Well, as best I can anyway. The desperation to avoid all things Cathal is a powerful motivator to override everything.

This was just a heat spike.Or two. If I can get out of here before my full heat hits, I’ll be fine.Safe. Everything can go back to normal and I don’t have to acknowledge that I’m scent-matched to two members of my ex’s pack.

Yeah, dream on, Devlin.

The reception is in full swing by the time I make it back downstairs, suitably freshened up. The hotel’s complimentary toiletries selection included some scent neutralising body wash, and although the stuff is probably crap, I used the whole bottle anyway. And I grabbed those panties. Fingers crossed and hope for the best that the combo works, and that I can get through the rest of the night without any more heat spikes.

Laughter and clinking glasses echo through the outdoor marquee, the scent of floral arrangements and expensive perfume masking the traces of my own lingering arousal.

I stick to the edges of the crowd, keeping my head down as I navigate between tables, careful to avoid any familiar faces.Needis still simmering beneath my skin, just shy of breaking into something uncontrollable, so I have to stay under the radar.

And then I see him.

Cathal.

He’s standing near the bar, broad-shouldered and devastating in his tailored suit, talking to a groomsman I don’t recognise. I’d like to say he hasn’t changed a bit but he’s just so much more…alpha than I remember. Devastatingly handsome. Where Tadhg is all messy locks and stubble and a carefree attitude, his twin is sharp. Precise. Perfect.

My stomach lurches.

I duck behind a group of older guests, angling myself toward the opposite side of the room before he can spot me. I can’t deal with him right now. Not when I still feel raw from seeing – and scent matching and fucking – his twin and his packmate.

I exhale sharply, but before I can figure out where to go next, a warm hand closes around my wrist.

“Oh, Devlin! There you are.”

I spin around to find Nuala, the radiant bride beaming at me, eyes bright with champagne and the afterglow of newly wedded bliss.

“You disappeared for a bit,” she teases. “Come dance with me.”

“I—” I start to protest, but she’s already dragging me toward the dance floor.

The band shifts into a slow, easy melody, and I let her twirl me into the middle of the crowd, forcing a smile as I settle into the rhythm.

It’s fine. This is fine. I can do this.

Except…

I feel them before I see them.

A low, unmistakable heat crawls up my spine, setting my nerves alight.

Tadhg. Lorcan.

They’re here.

I don’t dare turn around, but my body betrays me, reacting to their presence before my mind can catch up. My breath shortens, my pulse hammering as the air thickens with the unmistakable pull of pack bonds, of alphas finding their omega.

I grit my teeth and focus on the dance, on the bride’s laughter, on anything but the way my body aches at their nearness, all the while I’m praying the hotel’s descenting products don’t do me dirty.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Nuala, desperate for a distraction. Slick has started to seep out of me just at the proximity of my alphas. Shit.

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