Page 98 of Knot Happening

"Actually," Belle says, "I want to show you something."

She gets up from the couch and disappears down the hallway toward her room, returning a few minutes later with a thick folder in her hands.

"What's that?" Felix asks as she settles back into her spot.

"My writing," Belle says, and there's nervous anticipation in her voice. "The essays I told you about. Including the one about community preservation that gave me the idea for our campaign strategy. I thought maybe... if you're interested... you might want to read some of them."

The fact that she's willing to share something so personal, so important to her, makes my chest tight with emotion. "Belle, we'd love to read your writing."

"Really?"

"Really," all three of us say simultaneously.

"Okay then," Belle says, opening the folder and pulling out several typed pages. "Fair warning—they're probably not as interesting as you think they'll be."

"Belle," Theo says gently, "everything about you is interesting to us."

"Even my terrible jokes about library science?"

"Especially your terrible jokes about library science," Felix confirms.

"Alright then," Belle says, settling back with the papers in her lap. "But don't say I didn't warn you when you fall asleep halfway through my analysis of community literacy programs and their impact on historic preservation efforts."

"We're not going to fall asleep," I tell her firmly.

"We might ask a million questions though," Felix warns. "Fair warning."

"I like questions," Belle says with obvious pleasure. "Questions mean you're paying attention."

"Belle," I say seriously, "we're always paying attention when it comes to you."

The smile she gives me could power the entire city. "Good," she says. "Because tomorrow is just the beginning."

And as she starts reading her essay about the intersection of literacy and community development, her voice warm and passionate and completely captivating, I know she's absolutely right.

Tomorrow is just the beginning of forever.

32

BELLE

I've been staring at the small white pill in my palm for fifteen minutes, and it feels like the most important decision I've ever made. Such a tiny thing to have controlled so much of my life for a year: my scent, my cycles, my entire relationship with my own biology.

The suppressants have been my security blanket since I presented as an omega last year. Back then, the idea of being completely vulnerable to alpha influence, of having my body betray me with heats and pheromones and all the messy biological realities of omega life, had terrified me. The pills promised control, normalcy, the ability to navigate the world without constantly advertising my secondary gender to every alpha within scenting distance.

But sitting here in their guest room, thinking about Marcus's protective intensity, Felix's gentle creativity, and Theo's quiet strength, I'm wondering what I might have been hiding from myself all these years. What would it feel like to experience my own nature fully? To understand what my body actually wants instead of constantly suppressing it?

The decision to temporarily stop taking the suppressants isn't one I've made lightly. It started three days ago, after Theo'sopera date, after that kiss that made my entire world shift on its axis. I'd come back to their house still tasting champagne and possibility on my lips, still feeling the echoes of his hands framing my face, and for the first time in years, I'd wondered what it would be like to let myself want someone without fear.

The courthouse crisis had sealed it. Watching Marcus pace their living room like a caged animal, seeing the pain and frustration radiating from him, feeling my own fierce desire to fix things for him: that's when I realized I was already thinking like part of their pack. The suppressants weren't protecting me from anything anymore; they were just keeping me from fully understanding what I was feeling.

So I'd made the decision. One week off the pills, just to see what happens. To understand what Belle Hartwell is like when she's not constantly fighting her own biology.

I set the pill back in its bottle and close the lid with a decisive snap.

Holy shit! Was this really a good idea? I'm thinking of backing out now.

The first day without suppressants passes quietly. I work with Felix on the courthouse campaign strategy, helping him design presentation boards and arguing about whether we need that many comparison photos. We spend the afternoon going over media schedules while I organize the campaign materials and coordinate with the volunteer canvassers coming next week. Everything feels normal, controlled, exactly like it always has.

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