Page 31 of Knot Their Girl
Beside me, the über alpha grumbles, “Normally I don’t have to field a thousand stupid questions, I can tell you that much.”
“So grumpy,” I say, my inner omega pleased at annoying him. What can I say? Guess I’m just a little bitchy. A wee bit. It’s how I get my jollies. “Are you always this grumpy, or are we just special?”
Pax holds onto his fork like he wants to stab someone with it, and I hate how I notice the bulging of a certain vein in his forearm… and how said bulging is kind of sexy.
Shit. No. I’m not supposed to drool over Pax. That’s rule number one. Rule number two is no drooling over Gideon. Any alphas? No drool. Come on, Raeka. Get with the program.
“Well, since all of you asked, I like to sleep in till maybe nine or ten—depends on when the sun comes up or if it’s a shitty, rainy day—and then I like to meander downstairs and find something to eat. Then I like to go shopping. Maybe I could take you with me, sometime, Colter.”
Right then, Colter glances at me, his amber eyes widening, so I add quickly, “Maybe I could take you all with me. You guys have some questionable fashion choices. You look like you’re homeless.” I point at Colter. “And you look like you just got off the set of the nextJohn Wickmovie.” I flick my thumb atPax, who then glances down at his all-black ensemble like I just insulted him in the worst way possible. “And you,” I pause, my finger swinging to point at Gideon, “look like the naive CEO love interest in a shitty Hallmark movie who’s about the discover the true meaning of Christmas.”
Gideon whispers “Naive?” the same moment Pax growls out “I’d rather look like aJohn Wickcharacter than a spoiled brat.”
All I do is laugh at them.
Oh, yeah. This is going to be fun.
But as I think that thought, something tugs at me. Something invisible. Something, dare I say, instinctual. Like a fishing line had been thrown by both Gideon and Pax. Their musk-filled alpha scents assault my nose out of nowhere, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep still, to keep my inner omega settled.
I’m not due for another one of my shots yet, but I think I need to speed it up a bit. Something about these guys’ scents… it’s like they push through the wall the injections put up, so potent that they’ll only settle once I’m dead, died from having choked on their alpha musk.
Ugh. See? This is why being near alphas is impossible. If I can barely think straight with the scent dampening injections, I can’t imagine how hard it would be if I didn’t have them. It’s no wonder most omegas turn into sniveling, weak wimps when faced with an alpha pack, all slick and hungry for knots and shit.
I try to think of other things then, stupid things, silly things, things that will help me fight whatever this feeling is inside of me. As Gideon is busy studying his own choice of clothing and Pax is busy glaring at me like he wants to teach me a lesson only he can teach, I think about the weather. About my family, about Mercedes.
You know, things that won’t lead me to squeeze my thighs together. Like taking a cold shower through my thoughts.
After dinner, I excuse myself by saying I’d like to get an early night in. Lots to unpack and all that. None of the guys stop me, not that I thought they would. It’s only once I’m alone in my new bedroom and the door locked behind me that I let out the sigh I’d been holding since I first had to really wrestle with my inner thoughts.
Never had much of an issue before. It has to be because I’m an unbonded omega after her first heat. Has to be.
I head right for the bag where I packed my favorite blanket, and I unzip the large duffel and carefully pull out the blanket and what it hides after I fall to my knees. Tucked away in the center of the mass of puffy blanket is a small black satchel of sorts. Unmarked. Someone who came across it without knowing what was inside might think it’s a makeup bag or something similar. Unless they snooped and unzipped it, they’d never know there are a few small vials of liquid nestled inside.
Scent-dampening injections aren’t approved officially, but the site that sells them gets around that by forcing everyone who buys them to digitally sign a waiver. Basically telling everyone to take them at their own risk.
I mean, why would the administration tasked with keeping our meds safe for use approve of anything that would stop omegas and alphas from getting together? The cream is approved for over-the-counter use, but that’s only because there are situations when cream like that is needed—such as when an omega is under the age of twenty-one and her scent is already overpowering the alphas around her. Until she’s legally able to join another pack and move away from her birth family, cream like that is the only answer.
But my injections are different. I was scared when I took my first, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t know what kind of side effects there would be and whatnot; but now, after taking them formonths, I’m happy to report there are none. The injections help keep me sane when I’m near alphas with yummy scents.
The thing is, I’m not due for another one just yet, which leads me to wonder if, maybe, my body is building up a tolerance to whatever’s inside. If that’s the case, I’m going to have to place another order. Like hell am I going to lose my sense of self in this house.
I get the injection ready, making sure there isn’t any air inside the capsule. A new needle every time, pre-loaded so it’s just pop-and-go. A small disinfecting wipe above the vein in my inner elbow with one of those tiny, disposable wipes, and then I’m ready. I sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor and bear the needle down into the vein, and then I press it down with my thumb and top myself off.
The sigh that comes from me after the scent-dampening injection fills my vein is one of relief, and I pull out the needle and lay it on the carpet near me. I flex my fingers and tighten what little muscle I have on that arm as a teeny, tiny speck of blood rises where I pulled the needle out. By tomorrow morning, it’ll be nothing but a teeny bruise I can hide with a bit of makeup.
I stare at the needle on the carpet, knowing I’ll have to figure out a way to toss it in the trash without anyone noticing. Doing it in the bathroom I have to share with Gideon and Pax won’t fly. I’ll have to wrap it up and toss it in the kitchen or something. Shouldn’t be too difficult; it sounds like Colter hardly ever comes downstairs, and Gideon is hard at work all day. All I’ll have to evade is Pax, and with any luck he won’t be breathing down my neck while we’re here at the house.
For now…
I grab the used needle and head to my new bed. In it goes, between the box spring and the mattress.
Chapter Sixteen – Gideon
Raeka and Pax are gone; she’s visiting her friend at Solus Academy—sorry, at New Omega Academy. I guess she and her friend are helping to fix it up and turn things around there, with the help of Alabaster Security. Their absence gives me time to speak with Colter about the truth of her being here.
I need to act like I’m ripping off a bandage or something. Just do it quickly and get it over with. Colter isn’t going to be happy; he might shut down for a while, but he needs to know she’s not here for me. She’s here for him, and whatever should happen between them, or whatever doesn’t happen, is just that: their business, not mine.
It’s near noon when I go upstairs to find Colter. He just showered, his brown hair damp and hanging over his forehead as he paints the view from one of the windows in his studio. He hears me enter, and he sets down his brush and soundlessly sighs as he turns around on his stool to face me. The way he looks at me, I know he’s aware something is going on.
