Page 13 of Knotting else Matters

The door swung open before I could knock, and one of the house staff, a young Omega named Marissa, greeted me with a bright smile.

“Alpha Adrian, welcome. Your parents are in the lounge. Sophie and Karl should be down soon.”

“Thank you.”

I stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the grand foyer wrapping around me. Polished marble floors gleamed beneath the soft light of the crystal chandelier. Portraits of ancestors lined the walls, each face a reminder of the family legacy—strength, tradition, leadership.

Polished marble floors gleamed beneath the soft light of the crystal chandelier. Portraits of ancestors lined the walls, each face a reminder of the family legacy—strength, tradition, leadership.

The sound of light, measured footsteps echoed down the grand hall, and then they appeared—my parents. My father, tall and silver-haired, his sharp features softened by the years but still carrying that unmistakable aura of authority. My mother, elegant as ever, her ash-blonde hair swept up in a graceful twist, her warm brown eyes lighting up the moment she saw me.

“Adrian.” My father’s voice was steady, warm but always touched with that hint of formality. A habit born from decades of leading, of commanding respect without ever needing to raise his voice.

“Darling, you’re here.” My mother’s smile was radiant, her delicate fingers reaching out to clasp mine as she leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“Good to see you both,” I replied, letting some of the tension in my shoulders ease. They were always like this—polished, graceful, a picture of poised affection. A perfect image of pack elders who had aged not just well, but with purpose. A legacy they wore like a second skin.

And I loved them. I did. But there was always that shadow, that faint pressure that had lived with me since childhood. High expectations. The weight of a name, of a title. Even when they’d retired from the council, their influence remained—a quiet, constant reminder of the standard they’d set.

“How was your day?” my mother asked, her tone polite but always with that subtle, probing edge.

“Busy,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “Handling some pack matters, checking on security, and making sure everything is ready for the ceremony.”

“Good. Sophie deserves a perfect day,” my father said, a faint smile playing at his lips. “And Karl—well, it’s about time he found his place.”

“About time,” I agreed, my mouth twitching in a faint smile. At least with Karl and Sophie’s mating ceremony, the constant pressure on me to find a mate had eased. For years, they’d subtly—or not so subtly—prodded me, asked when I would settle down, find someone to share my life with, someone to continue the family line.

Now that Karl was set to marry Sophie, the golden child of the pack, that spotlight had shifted. They would have theirgrandpupssoon enough, all the perfect little heirs they’d always dreamed of.

“Your father and I were just discussing the ceremony arrangements,” my mother continued, her voice light, but her gaze sharp. “Sophie has truly brought so much joy to this house. It’s wonderful to see the pack so excited.”

“She’s a bright light,” I agreed, and it wasn’t a lie. Sophie’s optimism, her warmth—she was a perfect match for Karl’s boundless energy.

“And of course,” my father added, “we’re hoping that you’ll find your own happiness soon enough, Adrian.”

There it was. The familiar nudge, the subtle reminder that even though the pressure had eased, it hadn’t disappeared entirely.

“I’m perfectly content,” I said, letting the hint of a smile soften the edge of my words. “And now that Karl and Sophie will be busy with their own lives, I’ll have plenty of time to focus on the pack.”

My mother’s lips pursed, just slightly. “Yes, well, leading is important, but so is living, my dear.”

“I do plenty of living.”

“Work doesn’t count, Adrian.”

“Work keeps the pack safe.”

My father chuckled, stepping forward and resting a firm, reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done well, son. More than we could have hoped. But your mother is right. Balance is important. Happiness isn’t a weakness.”

“I know,” I said, even though the words felt like an old, familiar script.

Because happiness wasn’t the problem. Control was. Stability. Order. Those were the things that kept the pack safe, kept everything in line. I could trust those.

I couldn’t trust chaos.

And somewhere out there, probably making some sarcastic comment and stirring up trouble, was Olivia—walking, breathing chaos in a leather jacket. A headache I didn’t need. And yet, I’d be stuck with her tonight.

“Come on,” my mother’s voice drew me back, her hand gently patting my arm. “Let’s head to the lounge. Sophie and Karl will be here soon, and I’m sure you could use something to drink.”

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