Page 7 of Knot Their Girl
I can’t believe this girl. I can’t believe fucking Rourke. This washisjob, not mine. Like hell do I want to play bodyguard to a petulant omega who wants to give the system a middle finger. She’s had her first heat already—and that should make her an unbearable temptation to every unbonded alpha that comes across her, even me.
Don’t get me wrong, I have eyes and a nose. She’s too beautiful for her own good, but her scent… something about it doesn’t sit right with me. Like she’s masking it somehow, dampening it on purpose, if I have to guess.
Still, that doesn’t explain how she can act so normal around unbonded alphas like myself. Her body should be going crazy trying to find a match, a pack to take care of her. It’s biology. She might resist, even now, but someday she’ll be begging for an alpha.
Whatever. That alpha won’t be me.
The woman running tonight’s event, Delilah, leads Raeka and me to a table in the grand ballroom. The crystal chandeliers hang, illuminating the large space and sparkling no matter how you look at them. The tables are round, most of them already half-full with other omegas and their sponsors, save for the table we head to. Each table has a couple extra empty chairs, for the hopeful alphas who will be let in shortly.
I’ve never been to one of these things. I don’t know exactly how it’ll go, but I do know that I’m going to be bored out of my mind. I’m not a sponsor. I’m literally the hired help, whose only job it is to look menacing and be backup so Raeka gets no offers tonight.
If she wanted no offers, she shouldn’t have dressed so… you know, like she did. With that dress hugging that body like that, she’s not going to make my job any easier.
And those eyes of hers. A strange mix of blue and gray, set beneath impossibly long eyelashes. All she’ll have to do to lure an alpha in is look at him and blink a few times, and even though her scent is muddled and unclear, she’ll still lure them in like a master fisherman.
Seriously, what’s wrong with her scent? I can make out an underlying hint of raspberries, but that’s it. It’s like my nose hits a wall.
Not like I care, of course. I don’t. I’m literally only here because Darius offered me up as a possibility for the job. Apparently I’m someone he’d trust with Mercedes, so that meant I’m perfect for this job.
Right. A fucking guard job. That’s noob work, even if Darius wouldn’t agree after what happened with Nic a few years ago. The hard truth is, Nic made a stupid mistake and paid for it. The typical bodyguard job is easy shit.
Once Delilah leaves, Raeka gets herself situated at the table. She sits down and fixes her dress, and then she glances up at me. The way she looks at me, like she can’t stand me, only infuriates me more. She’s the reason I’m here, not the other way around. I didn’t force her to do any of this, so her annoyance only serves to irritate me further.
“I want you to stand, like, two feet behind me all night,” she instructs. “Scowl. Generally look intimidating. Shouldn’t be too hard for you—you have a fantastic R.B.F.” Since I haven’t been given the go-ahead to speak, I only lift my eyebrows in response, and cause her to explain, “Resting bitch face.”
Oh.
“Although, since you’re an alpha, maybe it’s more of a restingbastardface.” She giggles at that, like she made a joke, whichonly makes me scowl harder—which, in turn, makes her laugh more.
Ugh, this should be fun.
Soon enough the scent of other hopeful alphas fills the room, as Delilah brings them in. She must have a system she follows, because every alpha is brought to a table and instructed about how tonight will go. Our table is the last to get a hopeful alpha, and to my surprise it’s a lone wolf that sits down across from Raeka.
But it’s the stupid grin on that lone wolf’s face that separates him from someone like me.
Who is it? Oh, someone very fucking familiar… and very fucking dead the next time I see him after this.
“Hi,” Rourke says, giving Raeka a warm smile, but the moment that smile shifts to me, it deepens in a gotcha kind of way. “And hello to you too, Pax. You’re looking good. I admit, I didn’t think you’d dress up tonight. You and suits don’t mix that often. Me?” He runs a hand down his wide chest, along the classical white-and-black suit combo he wears. “I think I look damn good.”
I’m not the only one who’s caught off-guard. So is Raeka. She asks, “I thought you were sick?”
“Nah.” He shrugs her question off. “I’m perfectly healthy. I was more than happy to be your bodyguard, but when I saw it was tonight, well… I promised my parents I’d go to one of these things every year, so I unfortunately had other arrangements. But don’t worry.” He shoots a quick glance at me. “Pax here’ll take real good care of you.”
She scoffs. “We’ll see about that.”
Rourke leans on the table between them. His blue eyes stare at her a little too hard; it takes more out of me than it should for me to remain rooted where I am. A part of me wants to pullRaeka up and take her out of here, so no other alpha can ogle her like that.
Don’t know where that thought came from. It’s one hundred percent unwelcome.
“Pax is…” He trails off, shooting me a sly expression. “You know what they say, right? All work and no play makes Pax a dull boy. Maybe this job’ll help liven him up a little.”
“So he’s all work and you thought it’d be a good idea to give him more work?” Though I can’t see it, I can hear the smile in her tone, and a part of me instantly hates she’s giving that smile to Rourke.
Fuck. I’m going to fucking kill him for this, mark my words.
“Exactly! See? You get it.” Rourke actually sends a wink my way, and a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl of annoyance escapes me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want anything, Raeka, or should I leave you in Pax’s more than capable hands?”
I imagine my more than capable hands wrapping around his throat and squeezing the very life out of him—but that would be murder, and he’s technically my friend, so I can’t exactly go through with it. I can think about it long and hard, but I just can’t do it.
