Page 14 of Knot Going Down
“Just through Meggie,” Emily answers quickly. A little too quickly. The words nearly slur together. She holds up the bag of food. “Should we eat?”
I don’t want her anywhere near Knox Carrick, but I can’t bring myself to tell her to leave. We’ve only known each other a few days, but already she has me wrapped around her finger. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but the moment I saw her, she captivated me, and once I caught a whiff of her scent, I knew she was mine. Sure, she’s a beta, and technically betas don’t scent match—or at least, not often—but she’s mine. Even ifshe’s made it clear she doesn’t date alphas and this is just a flirty fling for her.
Besides, wouldn't a true fling have moreflinginggoing on? We’ve kissed—with tongue—and the fact I have to specifywith tonguesignals just how hard up I am for this sweet little thing. I’dflingher properly if she voiced that desire, but my girl doesn’t seem vastly experienced in that realm, and I don’t want to rush her. But damn, I’d relish the opportunity to be the one to give her a proper education.
First, though, I’ve gotta get her to see this is something real. This isn’t a Parisian make-out hook-up. This could go the distance if we’re both all in. And I’m going to prove it to her.
Her bringing me dinner is a great place to start.
“Come on in.” I hold the door open, waving her in, but when she goes to step past me, I grab her around the waist, pull her against me, and scent mark the hell out of her. If she’s gonna be near Knox, I want her to smell like she’s mine.
8
LUCAS
Ispent weeks planning the perfect trip. An all-inclusive cruise, just the pack, celebrating our Olympic journey, unwinding together after the grueling competition. I booked the best pack cabin, arranged exclusive dinners, even coordinated activities tailored to everyone’s interests. It was supposed to be our moment. A chance to solidify our connections as a pack. We’ve been working so hard training for the Olympics that it feels like the only thing we ever talk about is the game. This was going to be our opportunity to break past that.
But now, standing here in the barely furnished apartment in the Olympic village, facing my team, I can already see where this is going.
I printed the tickets so I could wrap them in a neat box with a bow. But Alessandra barely glances at them before setting the opened box on the kitchen counter with a frown. That’s not how someone should respond to a surprise like this.
Tucking my hands into my pockets, I lean casually against the wall, trying to act like my heart isn’t in my throat.
“Lucas, man,” Miguel, our pack alpha, rubs a hand over his face. He won’t even meet my eyes. “It’s just… this was never meant to be forever.”
I arch a brow, attempting a neutral expression. “Ah, I see.” Somehow, I manage to keep my tone light.
Oscar sighs, shifting uncomfortably and stealing glances at Alessandra. He’ll never go against our—their—omega. “The pack was only because of the new Olympic rule, you knew that. We had to function as a unit to win, but it’s over now, and we can go back to our real lives.”
I hum, considering my words, tilting my head slightly. “Real lives. Yeah. Because you are not going to compete in the next Olympics?”
A year ago, the Olympic Committee made a rule that any team participating in the Olympics had to be a pack. It’s propaganda from those who think packs are superior, the way we’re supposed to live. It’s bullshit. Pack living isn’t for everyone. Even if it’s what I want more than anything.
When the Olympic rule came out, my team had to take me in as a pack mate. They even filed official paperwork that we intended to become pack, although there were no bonds yet. We all agreed it was just because of the rule, but somewhere along the way, it became real for me.
We’ve spent a year living life together, training together. I even participated in their omega’s last few heats. Did none of that mean anything?
Sure, bites were never discussed, but I assumed that was a discussion for after the Olympics. I’d hoped it might be something that could happen on the cruise. It would be the perfect opportunity. The romance of a full moon over ocean waves.
Jose, the only one who seems to have the decency to look uneasy, takes a small step forward. “Lucas, it’s not that we don’tcare about you. We do. But we were never a real pack. This was temporary. We’d planned to talk to you once we got home, but…”
I turn to Alessandra. “Did those heats mean nothing? That was just biology?”
“Of course!” Her sigh is exasperated. “I was inheat. You know how omegas are in heat.”
I do. But I thought we had a connection after her last heat and hoped we could start something real after the Olympics. Alessandra and I never fully hit it off in any way other than physically. But I thought that was enough. I hoped other connections would come later when we weren’t so stressed about Paris.
Alessandra looks away and fiddles with the bow from the gift box.
“Look,” I push off from the wall and take a step closer, “we have all been stressed with the Olympics, maybe we should not make big decisions right now. I am not asking you to bond me into the pack yet, but come on the trip. We can relax together and see what happens.”
Alessandra huffs, crossing her arms. “I hate boats. This trip won’t change anything. I’ll only end up vomiting all over everyone. There isn’t enough Dramamine in Europe to make me get on a boat.”
I let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head. “That is what this is about? You just do not want to go on a cruise?”
Miguel’s gaze hardens. “It’s not about the trip. It’s about you still holding onto something that was never meant to last. You knew that going in, man.”
I nod slowly, processing the words, ignoring the pit in my stomach. “Well, damn. Guess I misread the room.” I’m trying for glib, but the bitterness in my tone can’t be hidden.
