Page 187 of Knot Like Other Girls

I watch as Heather sashays through the crowd, smiling at everyone like she's gracing them with her presence. Her personal photographer circles her like a satellite, capturing herevery practiced pose. The whole display reeks of desperation, but the gathered elites eat it up.

"We've got eyes on her," Troy murmurs beside me. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried about me," I mumble.

Movement across the room catches my attention. Roman and Liam are making their way toward us, weaving through the crowd with purpose. And behind them, like a shadow breaking away from darkness, comes Cole. My breath catches at the sight of him approaching. Even with his scars fully visible, he moves with a predatory grace that turns heads. Not all the reactions are positive, but Cole doesn't seem to care as much as usual.

Maybe its just because he's distracted by keeping me safe tonight, but I hope it's a sign that all the extra affection and love I've been pouring on him at the pack house every chance I get has finally started to soothe his self-loathing.

"Heather's not alone," Roman says as he joins us, his voice low and barely audible above the string quartet. "The man with the earpiece has hired muscle written all over him. And there's another by the east exit dressed as wait staff. Hasn't served a single drink."

My stomach tightens. "You think they're planning something?"

"Better safe than sorry," Liam says, his gray eyes scanning the crowd. "Especially with what happened in Spain."

Cole says nothing, but he shifts slightly closer to me, his presence solid and reassuring at my back. A subtle gesture, but it gives me a sense of security that no words could provide.

I'm about to ask more when a flash of blinding silver appears in my peripheral vision. My sister's sequined dress catches every light in the ballroom as she approaches, flanked by her hired photographer and my beaming parents.

"Isabella," Ashlyn greets me, her smile tight as they slide over my emerald gown. "Green. Wow."

"Hello, Ashlyn," I reply, forcing warmth into my voice. "You look stunning as always."

She does, in that over-the-top way she cultivates for her social media. Her silver dress doesn't just sparkle. It practicallyweaponizeslight. Her makeup is flawless, her hair styled in elaborate upswept curls that must have required several cans of hairspray to maintain.

"These must be your bodyguards," she says, her gaze flicking dismissively over Pack Vanguard. She flinches visibly when she sees Cole and quickly averts her gaze, turning a few shades paler beneath the caked foundation.

My nails bite into my palms instinctively.

"Yes, this is the Vanguard Pack," I say, trying not to sound as irritated as I am. "They've been incredible."

Ashlyn gives me a doubtful grimace, turning instead to our mother, who's muttering something about "riff-raff" to our father. "Didn't the Harrises want to talk to you about their summer home in the Hamptons?" she asks our parents. "They're by the champagne fountain."

"Oh!" My mother perks up immediately. "Richard, we should go say hello." She pats my arm distractedly. "We'll catch up later, Isabella."

As my parents drift away, I brace myself. Ashlyn never wants to be alone with me unless she has something cutting to say.

"So," she begins once they're out of earshot, "how does it feel knowing that in a month, you'll be Mrs. Worthington the Third? The omega who landed the most eligible alpha bachelor in California?" Her voice drips with saccharine sweetness that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Actually," I start, but she's already charging ahead.

"Do you know how hard I've had to work to get brands to even notice me?Yearsof content creation, networking events, cold-emailing companies." She shakes her head, her curls staying perfectly in place. "Meanwhile, you just happen to present as an omega, and suddenly, you're marrying into one of the richest families in the country."

I feel Troy shift beside me, clearly uncomfortable with Ashlyn's tone but not sure if he should intervene. Savva and Roman remain impassive, but Liam's jaw tightens visibly. Cole's presence behind me is more tense than it has been all night.

"Ashlyn—" I try again.

"You always get everything handed to you," she says, gesturing broadly. "The attention, the opportunities, the special treatment. Even Mom and Dad—they never pushed you the way they pushed me. Because why bother? Everyone knows omegas just need to find a rich alpha and their lives are set."

The unfairness of her accusation stings. My entire life has been shaped by being an omega since I presented, and not in the privileged way she imagines. I've been told to make myself smaller, quieter, more appealing. I've been put on suppressants to make me more "manageable." I've been bartered by my own parents like a commodity to secure their financial future.

Something inside me snaps. Maybe it's all the time I just spent with the Vanguard Pack, being valued as a person rather than an accessory. Maybe it's the freedom I've tasted in the mountains, away from everyone's expectations.

Whatever it is, I'm done staying silent.

Done behaving myself.

"I'm not marrying Braxley," I say, my voice clear and steady.

---