Page 168 of Knot Like Other Girls

Troy glances between us, unusually quiet. He understands my feelings about my prosthetic, how I never remove it around others unless absolutely necessary. But Bella's expression—so open, so accepting—constricts my throat.

"Please," she whispers, not commanding now, just asking.

Something in her words tugs at me, dissolves my resistance. Before I can reconsider, I nod once, sharply.

"Stay here," I tell her, rising from the nest. "I'll be right back."

I grab a discarded shirt from the floor—mine or Troy's, I can't tell—and pull it around my waist for minimal coverage before stepping into the hallway. Roman, Liam, and Savva are positioned just outside, their heads turning when the door opens.

"Everything okay?" Roman asks immediately, his golden eyes searching my expression.

"Fine, just need a minute," I say tersely, uncomfortable under their scrutiny. "But would you guys go further down the hall or something? I had no fucking idea you were just… standing outside the door like a pack of dogs."

Savva rolls his eyes, but he heads into the living room and the others follow with hungry glances back toward the room where our omega is waiting.

I walk quickly to the bathroom across the hall. Inside, I grip the sink, forcing myself to face my reflection.

Half a person staring back.

Half an alpha.

Half a man.

Growling under my breath, I remove the prosthetic eye, placing it carefully on the counter. The exposed tissue in the empty socket is a vivid pink against my skin. The permanent twist where my lip doesn't close properly is especially hideous without the artificial eye's distraction.

Monster. That's what I see in the mirror. What others see when they look at me.

Except Bella, apparently.

Fuck, I hope that isn't about to change.

I splash cold water on my face, trying to center myself. Bella differs from anyone I've known before. She's demonstrated that repeatedly. She touches my scars without hesitation, kisses the fucked up corner of my mouth, looks me directly in my real eye when she speaks to me.

And she's in heat. She needs me.

I straighten my posture, squaring my shoulders. This is Bella. My omega, if she'll have us when her heat is over. She deserves my trust if she's giving me hers.

When I return to the nest room, I pause at the entrance, suddenly self-conscious in a way I haven't experienced in a longtime. Troy and Bella look up simultaneously, their conversation stopping as they observe me.

"Holy shit," Troy breathes, a grin spreading across his face. "You look like a fucking badass, Cole."

I glare at him, the expression pulling uncomfortably at my scar tissue. "Shut up, Troy."

"No, seriously," he continues, undeterred. "It's cool as hell. Why have you been hiding this? You look like you could kill a man with just a glare."

Despite myself, a confused huff of a laugh escapes me.

But it's Bella's reaction I'm concerned about. Her heat appears to have temporarily receded, giving her a brief moment of clarity. She's sitting up now, her eyes fixed on my face.

"Come here," she says softly, extending her hand toward me.

I approach cautiously, lowering myself into the nest beside her. She raises her hand, her fingers hovering near my face, silently requesting permission. I nod briefly, preparing myself for her touch.

Her fingertips gently trace the edge of the empty socket, mapping my scars without reservation. There's no revulsion in her expression, no pity—just curiosity and a strange, warm affection.

"Thank you for trusting me," she whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth where the scars twist it into a permanent grimace.

Before I can respond, she gasps, her body stiffening against mine. For a terrifying moment, I'm afraid I've frightened her, but then her pupils expand again and her skin flushes a deeper shade of pink. The brief reprieve ends as her heat returns with renewed force.

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