Page 69 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

She nods.

“And you trust me because I’m an omega?”

She nods again.

“Then trust me when I say this.” I clasp her face in my palms, using my thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Everything they taught you at that Academy is a lie.”

Her breath snags, but she doesn’t pull away. Her eyes are wide, uncertain, but there’s something else there too—a desperate kind of hope, like she’s been waiting her whole life for someone to tell her this.

“You’re not greedy for seeking comfort. You’re not wrong for needing connection. And you’re certainly not bad for finding safety with another omega.” I stroke her cheek gently, feeling her lean into the touch even as doubt clouds her expression. “They taught you that omegas should be small, shouldn’t they? That we should take up less space, want less, need less?”

She nods, another tear sliding down her cheek.

“But look at me, Hailey. Really look at me. Do I seem small to you? Do I seem like I make myself less?”

Her eyes search my face, and I can see the wheels turning. “No,” she whispers finally. “You’re…you’re strong.”

“Because that’s what omegas are. We’re strong. We’re fierce. We’re protective and nurturing and powerful in ways they never wanted you to understand.” I pull her closer, letting our foreheads touch. “The way you feel right now? The need for comfort, for connection? That’s not weakness. That’s your strength. That’s your heart telling you what you need to heal.”

As I say the words, I realize I’m speaking to myself as much as to her. For so long, I’ve been tamping down my own needs, swallowing my pain, pretending I don't ache for the connection my alphas once freely gave. I’ve been making myself smaller, quieter, less needy—exactly what I’m telling her not to do. The irony isn’t lost on me, nor is the burn of recognition in my chest.

She trembles against me, but her scent is shifting, fear giving way to something warmer, something hopeful.

“Everything in you is screaming that this is wrong, isn’t it? That you’re taking too much, wanting too much? That you’ll make my alphas angry?” When she nods, I continue, “That’s not your voice, Hailey. That’s theirs. The people who hurt you, who tried to make you small. But you’re not small. You’re not wrong. You’re perfect exactly as you are.”

A sob catches in her throat, but it’s different now—like something is breaking loose inside her, something that’s been trapped for far too long.

“You deserve comfort. You deserve safety. You deserve to take up space and make noise and feel everything you’re feeling without shame.” I brush away fresh tears from her cheeks. “And anyone who tells you different is lying.”

She makes a soft sound and without thinking, I press my lips to her temple, trying to soothe her.

She stiffens in my arms for a moment before she melts.

“They’ll find me,” she whispers. “They’ll find me and?—”

“No,” I say firmly, tightening my hold on her. “I won’t let them.”

And I mean it. I don’t know who “they” are, but at this moment, I know one thing with absolute certainty: I will protect her. Whatever it takes, whatever it costs me, I will keep her safe.

Even if it means facing my alphas. Even if it means confronting everything I’ve been running from.

Because somehow, impossibly, this broken, beautiful omega has become mine to protect. And I won’t fail her the way I’ve failed at everything else.

The thought of my alphas finding her—of what that might mean for all of us—sends anxiety spiraling through me. They’re already stretched thin, already struggling with whatever demons have haunted them since the accident. Adding another complication, another omega…it could shatter what little remains of our bonds. Yet despite that fear, I can’t bring myself to regret bringing her here. For the first time in months, I feel a purpose burning through me that has nothing to do with carefully maintaining a crumbling pack. I feel necessary again. Vital.

She tries to pull away, but I hold her tight. She shudders, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Why?” Her voice cracks. “No one’s ever been…why are you so nice?”

The question makes a sort of sad sorrow fill me. The fact she’s suspicious of kindness is heartbreaking. But I can’t answer her question. Not straight on, at least.

All my research in the wee hours of the night only pointed to one possible thing. That we’re some sort of mate to each other. The way her scent ignites a fire in me, I could almost believe it.

But such a thing is fabled. Shared only between alpha and omega. Omegas are never matches for other omegas. So I don’t know what the hell this is.

“I’m going to show you,” I whisper into her hair. “Everything they stole from you, everything they made you afraid of—I’m going to show you how beautiful it all really is. How powerful you are, how worthy.” My voice catches, but I push on. “And maybe…maybe we can both learn to believe it.”

Chapter 22

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