Page 195 of Knot Like Other Girls

"Don't hold back," I whisper, cupping his scarred cheek. "Not with me."

Something breaks in his expression, and he begins to move more freely, claiming me with each thrust. He surrenders all control, his pace increasing and a low growl building in his chest as his knot begins to form. The moment his knot locks us together, his release triggers my own.

Only when we're completely joined does Cole lower his head to my shoulder. His breath is hot against my skin for a moment before his teeth sink into the spot next to Roman's. The bite is firmer and sharper, and I welcome the brief pain that transforms instantly into a wave of emotion.

I cry out as our connection solidifies and Cole's presence joins Roman's in my awareness. We remain connected for several long minutes, Cole's forehead pressed against mine, our breathing gradually slowing. Cole doesn't say a word, but he doesn't need to. Everything travels through our new bond. His wonder, his fading disbelief that this could be his, the fiercely protective love that defines him.

When his knot finally eases, he kisses the mark he's left, positioning me comfortably as he withdraws.

The aurora above us brightens, great curtains of light dancing across the stars. Troy whistles low in appreciation of both the celestial display and what's unfolding between us.

"Guess I'm up," he says, his usual bravado softened by genuine emotion as he takes Cole's place before me.

Unlike the others, Troy can't seem to sit still, even for this solemn moment. His hands fidget, and his blue eyes dart between my face and the healing marks already on my skin.

"I'm not good at speeches," he starts, then laughs. "Actually, that's a lie. I talk all the time. But saying important shit? That's harder. Especially following these two poets over here." He jerks his head toward Cole and Roman.

I smile, reaching for his restless hands. "Just be you, Troy. That's all I've ever wanted."

He squeezes my fingers, taking a deep breath. "Before you, I thought I had it figured out. I was the easy-going one. I made jokes and kept things light because that was my role. But sometimes I wondered if anyone saw past that. Like maybe there wasn't anything to see."

The vulnerability in his admission catches me off guard. Troy, who always seems so confident, so carelessly happy.

"But you," he continues, his voice steadying, "you saw all of it. The annoying parts, the stupid jokes, the times I say the wrong thing. And somehow, you loved me anyway. You made me feel like being Troy was enough." His blue eyes lock with mine, suddenly serious. "I love you, princess. Not because you're our omega or because we're scent-matched or any of that biology shit that goes over my head anyway. I love you because you're Bella—and she's pretty fucking incredible."

A laugh bubbles up through my tears. "I love you too, Troy. Your heart, your joy… everything about you reminds me how to live."

His answering grin is blinding as he sheds his clothes. There's no hesitation in the way he joins me in the nest, his body covering mine with that bold, carefree energy that makes me giggle despite the ceremony's solemnity.

Troy enters me all at once, setting a pace that matches his personality. His hands are everywhere, touching, teasing, worshiping. The rhythm builds quickly between us, his movements quickly becoming less controlled and more assertive, his massive body inches from crushing me into the nest. He lets out a deep, throaty growl as his knot joins us together, his strong body shuddering under my clutching hands with the force of his release.

When we're completely connected, Troy nuzzles an unmarked section of my shoulder. His bite is sweet, almost playful, but the energy it generates is no less powerful as our bond snaps into place. A third presence joins the others in my awareness—bright, energetic, unmistakably Troy. Like sparks of fireworks in my soul.

Troy holds me through his knotting, whispering sweet nothings that make me giggle again even as I'm overwhelmed by the growing bond. He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, unable to stay still even when physically joined with me.

When Troy finally separates from me, he makes sure I'm comfortable before Savva moves forward. Savva is elegant as always, even—maybe especially—in this ancient ritual. The aurora paints his auburn hair with streaks of otherworldly color, his aristocratic features highlighted in green and blue.

"In my life," he begins, kneeling before me, his cultured voice pitched low for my ears alone, "I have crossed every continent, every sea. Always searching, always studying. Always apart, even when in the middle of a crowd."

His long fingers trace the line of my jaw with aching gentleness. "You ended that separation. You brought me home—not to a place, but to a belonging I had stopped believing was possible." His eyes, typically so observant, are open and soft. "I love you, little dove. For your courage, your perception, the way you see beauty everywhere—even in damaged men who forgot what beauty felt like."

My breath catches at the poetry of his words. "I love you too, Savva. Your mind, your grace… the depth you hide beneath that composure."

Savva's smile is small but genuine as he disrobes. He joins me in the nest, his touch reverent as he positions himself between my thighs and enters me with deliberate slowness,savoring every sensation. As I come undone beneath him, his pace increases, his restraint giving way to raw hunger.

When his knot locks us together and he spills his seed inside me with a deep growl, he lowers his head to my shoulder. As I quiver and cry out beneath him with aftershocks, he licks my flesh where he's going to mark me, dragging his tongue there until I'm shivering all over again.

"Perfect," he murmurs against my skin before sinking his teeth into me.

His bite is far more aggressive and claiming than I'd expected and I let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. The pain is over in a flash, replaced by intense bliss as our fresh bond burns through my veins, joining the others in my heart and soul.

His knot keeps us connected for several long, beautiful minutes. Savva whispers to me in a language I don't understand but enjoy just the same, his hands exploring my body with gentle devotion. When his knot finally begins to shrink and can pull free, he kisses the mark he's left with reverence.

Four marks now decorate my shoulder, each distinctive as the alpha who placed it. Only Liam remains, watching me with those storm-gray eyes I could gaze into forever.

"My turn, lass," Liam says as he takes his place before me. He takes my hands, his palms strong and warm against mine. "When I was a boy, my grandmother used to tell stories of selkies—creatures who shed their seal skins to walk on land as humans. She said if you found a selkie's skin and kept it, they would stay with you forever."

He pauses, his thumbs tracing patterns on my wrists. "For a long time, I thought that's what love was. Possession. And I thought it wasn't for me. It took meeting you to understand that real love isn't about that at all. It's about choice."

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