Page 1 of Knot Quite Ready

Chapter1

Aneira

The heavy bass thrums through my body, in tune with my rapid heartbeat, as I move to the music, letting it wash over me like a wave of pure energy— the beat somehow feeding the emptiness in my soul. As bodies gyrate around me, I let my body sway and twist with the crowd, realizing that for the first time in a few months, I didn’t have a single fuck to give. In fact, I feelfree,and as my hair bounces around my face, I can feel my grey eyes glow as my wolf agrees with me. With a smile, I mentally thank my best friend, Storm, for dragging me out of my self-created bubble of worry, work, and responsibilities.

I lean over to her, the three inches I got on her 5’3 frame seeming to dwarf her as our bodies bob and weave. “I’m so glad we came here,” I yell in her ear, and she throws her head back with a throaty laugh, the dark ringlets of her hair pasted to her face with sweat as her hazel eyes shine with the ever-present joy that was just…Storm. As the tinkle of her laugh floats into the air, one of the guys around us turns towards us, pupils dilating at the sight of her exposed neck. I bite back a growl, careful to keep my wolf under control as I casually, not so casually, observe him. I take a deep breath and pick up the scent of fresh air and feathers.Not wolf, I think gratefully. Although not that Itrulyexpected it, there was no established wolf pack in Cabria Falls, it was part of the appeal.

My nose twitches bird shifter, Osprey, to be exact. Regardless, his look ofinterestcan kick rocks. And as he moved closer, his body somehow grew two inches taller as he readied himself to go in for the kill. I roll my eyes. You know those alpha man displays? The stand-taller, puff out your chest, wet your lips, and try to look intimidating type of displays? Yeah, don’t do that. It wasn’t sexy and tweety bird over there can fuck the way off. I stare until his gaze meets mine, and I bare my teeth. He nods in respect, understanding flowing between them, and thankfully, he turns away.

I expel a sigh of relief. Tonight is supposed to be a night off, and I would rather not have to eat a bird. Feathers are a pain in the ass to clean out of your teeth. There aren’t a lot of humans in Cabria Falls, or Cabria Shifter Falls as the shifters called it, by typical small-town standards, just a few hundred, but this particular human is my best friend and off-limits. I love it here, though, the comradery between the mixed shifter community, with a few witches thrown in, being the greatest surprise and a much-needed reprieve from where I came from. Still, having a human best friend can make me a tad more protective when we are out. She may know all about me and the community around us, one of the only humans that did, in fact, but knowledge can only protect you so much.

She smiles brightly at me, “I’m glad you came too. You’ve been a little snarly recently. I mean, I know it’s part of the entire ahh-ooo thing you got going on, but sometimes you just need to pull yourself out of your hole and get stuff put in your holes…If you know what I mean.” I roll my eyes as she waggles her eyebrows and bumps and grinds into the air.

“I’m serious! Don’t you roll those eyes at me, Wolfarella, you can’t find your prince charming at work! I mean, take me for example, I go out twice a week with the girls, who have been asking for your ass, by the way. I don’t think you’re supposed to say no to witches, they hex you and shit,” she grins, and I buckle myself in for the ADHD-inspired rant that was coming my way. Being neurodivergent was a fucking superpower, and Storm? Well, she was as powerful as her name implied.

“Witches are terrifying. Thank god they love us. Anyways, like I was saying. Take me, for example. I go out, I have fun. I am always chipper, and this body,” she runs her hands down her athletic, yet ridiculously curvy, body clad in a tight dress. “This body gets a workout. Dancing endorphins. You need to find yourself a boy toy, like in all of those romance books, so you can go howl at the moon and share a bone under the stars.”

I laugh as she mimics eating a bone, and I shake my head. Storm is the only one who could get away with borderline insulting my wolf. Okay, at this point, she's beyond the border, but there's something about her that exudes 'genuine.' Any feelings a shifter might have about being spoken to in a remotely disrespectful way seem to just melt away.

“I would like to point out that you don’t have a boy toy either,” I say, and she scoffs.

“I don’t need penis energy to ruin my awesomeness. But I am not the one in need here, anyway. And you know it,” her gaze narrows as she points at me.

It’s not her fault that she can’t understand the situation I’m in, as Storm is deliciously human— even though she is a total badass who can bring down a man three times her size and is constantly underestimated by those around her. No, what destroyed my life is something to do with back home and with my old pack. I know that my wolf craved to be mated to her true mate, hell, it was a biological need and drive, especially at the age I am now. But I don’t want it.

I sigh internally and shake off the melancholy thoughts while I beat back my internal demons using a bat laced with mental holy water and jagged nails.Night off, night off,I chant to myself. That includes a night off from my persistent memories. Even when I keep them chained down tight, they still try to escape. But, Storm is right, I’ve been indoors for too long with my men, Ben and Jerry, and other than Storm and my employees, human interaction has been at a bare minimum. Tonight I will forget all about the shit of the past and think about the present…hopefully.

“Hey asshole, stop thinking. You’re doing that weird squinty face thing you do,” she tries to mimic my face, and I scowl at her. I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to take my mind off the past by antagonizing me, and it’s working.

“Fuck off, you Cloudy fuck.” My lips curl into a grin as she stops her mocking and gives me a pout, hating being called that—Granted, she had no problem being the mock-er, vs. the mock-y— I’ve seen what she’s done to others who have mocked her name, but because it’s me she just flicks her hair back and points to the empty glass in her hand.

“Fuck off, Lady Wolfington.” I roll my eyes. See? “Anyways, let’s get some more drinks. I need a couple of shots.” She doesn’t wait for an answer but blazes a trail through all the other partygoers who part like the red sea, completely oblivious to the power she wields in the sassy shake of her hips. For the millionth time in our relationship, I stop to consider if maybe Storm is otherworldly; her strength would indicate yes, and her sheer magnetism is potent enough to make me second guess my wolf senses, but I can’t pick up anything other than human. I follow her and take note of the few men that stop in their tracks to gaze at her ass, one even reaches out to grab it, but I intercept him and squeeze his fingers harder than necessary as I bare my teeth, and I hear the grinding of bones even through the din of the club.

“Bitch,” he hisses at me while his friend tries to hold in laughter.

If only he knew how much of a bitch I can really be—Ah, Oo. Internally, I shrug off the insult, men are so unimaginative when getting shut down. I take a breath, and I roll my eyes as I catch the scent of a human. Unlike shifters, most humans have no sense of self-preservation when drinking. At least shifters, for the most part, will back off. Still, I stare him down in silence, watching as his sneer drops right off his face, his most basic senses alerting him to the danger he is in. He falls back with a barely audible gasp, grabbing his friend and taking a step back, retreating. My wolf surges forward at the show of fear, making my eyes glow. He yelps and scrambles away. My wolf growls in satisfaction.

I close my eyes briefly, regaining control and making my wolf pout.Tough, Agatha, we are supposed to be low-key tonight. It’s a night off. Especially when we are close to our heat and even more so in a mixed club, most of the shifters and humans here may know me, but it’s summer, the town has a shit-ton more visitors, and we need to be cautious. We don’t need to be scented after being free for so long.Her low growl echoed through my head, discontent at my words as well as her nickname. In my defense, she did act like a grumpy ass old lady most of the time if old ladies were perpetually volatile and horny. Agatha sounded like a good name for that. She gives me one last internal scowl as she settles back down.

I sighed internally, good ol’ Agatha is getting more restless, and we are approaching the point of our basic nature overriding the ‘human’ part of me. It isn’t her fault, even though we are technically the same being, my wolf still needs to be let out and to be perfectly fair, I would be going crazy too if I was locked away inher, unable to stretch my legs. However, with the summer months hitting, Cabria Falls was a tourist’s dream vacation, with beautiful scenery with a hometown feel. Well, actually, it was the Cumbria Lake District that was the tourist trap, but our little town situated within it reaped the benefits. Still, all of that meant she can’t get out to run as much as we would both like to. Some of the other shifters in our town had the advantage of not looking like a vicious beasts when in their animal forms, however, Agatha is a bit little larger than your standard small wolf that one could overlook. Think Jacob in Twilight or a science experiment that went horribly wrong, regardless, our wolf form is not for the faint of heart.

Then, consider that she, or rather we, are getting closer to the end of the standard mating age in my old pack—our peak time of fertility to breed the strongest wolves. Admittedly, every pack handles this differently. In the Ceartas Pack, that could be anywhere from 16,fucking gross, to 26, and after that time, we were lucky if we were allowed to mate. Only families with clout had the ability, or rather permission, to mate after that time, and that was really rare. In effect, older she-wolves are considered spoiled goods, made to work within our village in shops, kept away from social events, and living in a commune rather than in the nicer pack houses, at least those who were sane enough for it anyway.

The outdated beliefs and practices of my old pack not only harmed our wolves, but they often pushed our omegas into depression after years of suppressing their true natures. In some cases, our wolves would even become feral, and omegas would be put down. Despite the knowledge that we could still find mates and have pups after that period, the ingrained mindset left Agatha feeling uneasy. Biologically, she yearned for a mate and the chance to have pups of her own.

According to the pack, wolves have a duty to the moon goddess: to stay hidden and increase their numbers. Crazy, right? Growing our numbers while murdering omegas or preventing them from mating at all. And don't even get me started on the irony of needing growth and secrecy. But, somehow, these two basic principles kept us going as a whole. We managed to survive through wars with other supernatural beings like vampires and witches and even the not-so-magical but equally dangerous humans who just couldn't keep their noses out of our business. But let's be honest, survival isn't the same as thriving. Survival is just getting by, doing the bare minimum to keep our heads above water. And our souls were still taking on water.

Despite how the Alpha had wanted the communes to be some sort of punishment, the ‘communes’ were not as terrible as they were made to seem, far from it. For the rare few wolves who grew up in one, it was more of a pack within a pack, a true family. I was one of them, my mother having given birth to me at 31 after having run away a few years prior and finding her true mate outside of the “acceptable packs.”

What made it worse was that my mother, Esmeralda, was the daughter of the Alpha, and for all intents and purposes, she should have been one of the strongest voices advocating for tradition. Instead, despite punishment, she rebelled against it. Going as far as barging into meetings and demanding they change the breeding age guidelines to allow children to actuallybechildren. I smiled at the thought. I heard she was a force to be reckoned with, even as a young omega.

Still, despite her beliefs, or maybe because of those beliefs, the Alpha, her father, still tried to mate her to one of the allied packs when she was only 16. On the eve of the ritual, much to the everlasting embarrassment of the Alpha, my mother chose to run away instead. She survived 15 years in the outside world before she was caught, and they brought her back kicking and screaming. Then much to the distress of the Alpha – who I guess was also my Grandfather, not that I ever called him that– I was born. Despite my mother committing the unthinkable, not only shunning her duty but the Alpha family too, she was allowed to live. However, from the date of her return, instead of living within the Alpha’s home or even the other pack homes in the village, she was regulated to communes.

Her homecoming spurred talk within the pack, especially the Omegas because the truth was, it wasn’t too clear in the end as to what the punishment was truly for. Was it for running away, or was it for proving that you cannot only breedandhave a healthy pup after the age of 26 but that an Omega, if given even a modicum of freedom, could also find their true fated mate? Then there was a pack-wide gag order put in place, and that simply served to stir more talk, which resulted in severe punishment. Each doled-out punishment converted the curious to the fearful, and soon, my mother was soon seen in an unfavorable light instead of being a beacon of hope. I’m sure the Alpha and his top advisors regretted their decision to bring her back. Then again, they probably enjoyed the chance to teach Omegas’ their place—under their paws.

I like to believe that we still won, as the commune took us in with love and understanding, and I grew up surrounded by more affection than most wolves ever received growing up. That is, until I had no choice but to follow in my mother’s footsteps and leave her and my true family behind for my sanity as well as my happiness.

Shaking off my intrusive thoughts, I continue to the bar where Storm has already ordered the drinks. She raises an eyebrow in question, a small smirk on her face. “Get his number?”

---