Page 29 of Knot Their Girl
Though he’s trying hard, I can tell he’s dying to watch her go. His body is tense, his knee is bouncing beneath the desk. He’s acting uneasy, and I know exactly why.
He’s an unbonded alpha, and now he’s an unbonded alpha with a pretty omega in his house, an omega with a confusing scent. If that scent of hers is driving him half as crazy as it’s driving me, I can’t blame him for acting like he wants to crawl out of his skin. Not every alpha was trained like I was; I can hold myself back even from the worst kinds of temptation, Raeka included.
Or the best kinds of temptation, depending on how you look at it.
We leave the office, and Raeka leads me through the house. I don’t say a word as I follow her to the garage; it’s only after the man door to the garage swings shut behind us that I finally speak, “Is this really what you want?”
She stops behind Gideon’s vehicle, stopping just short of setting a hand on it to open it. Her wide eyes turn toward me, watching as I approach her silently. Her nose wrinkles. “I’m a Whittenhall. No Whittenhall alpha or omega has ever gone it alone. When you’re part of a founding family—” She says it like it’s a curse. “—you don’t get the luxury of choice. I’d be an idiot to think I’d be the very first.”
I stop when I stand only two feet away, towering over her small omega stature easily. “You didn’t answer the question.”
She fakes a smile up at me, and I can tell it’s fake because it doesn’t quite reach her beautiful eyes. “Is this what I want?” she repeats the question softly. “No, obviously not. If I was able to have my way, I’d be alone. I wouldn’t need Gideon and his fake match, I wouldn’t need to pretend to be interested in his nephew, and I sure as hell wouldn’t need you to watch my back to make sure random alphas I come across don’t get any ideas. If I was able to get what I want, the world would have to be a very different place.”
She turns away from me and opens the trunk. “So, no, it’s not what I want, but I’m an omega, so what I really want doesn’t matter. It never does.” She sounds so disheartened when she says that, so unlike her, and it makes me furious.
Not at her, but at the world. Furious at society for not treating omegas better. Furious that all omegas are defined by their heats—something they only have twice a year. Furious that their only option is to go from the confines of their family to another pack, lest they’re stolen and used by greedy, criminal alphas who don’t care who they hurt.
If an omega is lucky, she lives the life of a pampered princess, even if she’s not from a founding family, but if an omega doesn’t have luck on her side, then her life can be a living hell.
The air around us is too tense now, after her answer to me, so I try to lighten the mood by saying, “Thanks for dragging me into all this. Believe it or not, my life was perfectly fine before my brother offered my services up on a silver platter.” I step around her and grab her suitcases and her bags. I sling the bags over my shoulder, loading up. She brought a lot of shit, but I can carry everything up in one go if I’m strategic about it.
Raeka waits until I get everything out of the trunk before shutting it, and she grins up at me and flutters those eyelasheslike they’re a secret weapon. “Oh, don’t be like that. This’ll be fun. Think of it like a vacation or something. You can relax while we’re here.”
“I don’t take vacations.”
She chuckles. “I can tell, big guy. You’re a big bundle of nerves and grumpy as hell.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Just show me where your room is, then show me mine.” As we head into the house and Raeka leads the way, I can’t stop myself from hoping that our rooms will be close by.
Fuck. This is going to be miserable.
Chapter Fourteen – Colter
I can’t focus after I meet her. Every time I pick up the paintbrush, it’s like every ounce of creativity leaves me, and I’m nothing but a body, a husk with no brain of my own. If I try to do anything on the canvas, I’ll only mess it up.
Raeka.
She was pretty, but of course she was. She’s an omega. Being pretty is what they were born to be. It’s their job. It’s an omega’s job to be beautiful, to tempt alphas to claim her and then protect her, just like it’s a beta’s job to be the buffer.
That’s all we were good for. Betas are the most numerous in society, and yet it feels like we’re the most forgotten. Betas don’t form packs of their own. Sometimes they join alpha packs, but typically they pair off with other betas and live normal lives, pretending the alpha, beta, omega hierarchy doesn’t exist.
I can picture Raeka clearly, even after a single meeting: full blonde hair that fell past her shoulders, mostly straight, with a bit of a kink to it. Big eyes whose hue was somewhere between a silvery gray and a pale blue. Eight inches shorter than me. Perfect porcelain skin on a figure that was hard not to stare at.
All these years, and now my uncle decides to bring an omega into this house? Why wait so long? Why not do it years ago? He could’ve had his own mini-pack by now, the house running rampant with his kids. Why wait until now to bring in someone like Raeka? It doesn’t make sense to me.
I can’t lie; he’s had his hands full with me. I wasn’t the best kid, but then again, I didn’t grow up under the best circumstances. I tried not to think about it too much, what happened eleven years ago, but it defines me in a way nothing else can.
I might’ve grown since the accident, but deep down I’m still that scared little boy, pre-awakening, with the world before me.
I was a Chase. I could’ve been an alpha, like my dad and my mom. I could’ve been the next arm of the Chase name—I’ve always painted, always been an artist. It ran in the family. Gideon was an artist, even if his choice of instrument wasn’t paint. My mom was wicked with a needle and thread, constantly making designs for the fashion arm of the company, and my dad was logistics.
But no. Things had to turn for the worst. I couldn’t be an alpha. I was a beta. And my parents died thanks to some drunk asshole who decided to get behind the wheel that night.
I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually my uncle joins me in my studio. He has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, and he studies me hard. “We’re going to have dinner in thirty. Could you please come downstairs and eat with us? I’d like to introduce you to Pax and Raeka.”
I’m sitting on my stool before my canvas, though I don’t have any paintbrushes in my hand—I gave up a while ago, settled for disassociating, something I’m very good at. The only thing in the world I’m better at than disassociating is painting. I turn away from the canvas and sign,I met her already.
“You did?” he sounds shocked at that, and then he shakes his head and smiles somewhat, though that smile falls off his face quickly. Smiles aren’t something that stay around for long in this house. Happiness, joy; any positive emotions don’t stick around, either. “I shouldn’t be too surprised. She clearly likes to do whatever she wants.”
