Page 62 of Knot Gonna Lie
They understood what this meant, perhaps better than I did.
Pack bonds weren’t formed lightly. And Elara had chosen me, in front of them.
We paused before her nest chamber’s sealed entrance, the biometric scanner reading her palm print with soft blue light. The door whispered open on silent servos, revealing the sanctuary beyond.
“After you,” she said, though her voice carried undertones I couldn’t quite decipher.
I stepped across the threshold, and her world enveloped me completely.
The concentrated essence of omega satisfaction crashed over me like atmospheric entry—lavender and vanilla woven through with something deeper, needier. Every molecule of air seemed saturated with her presence, dense enough to taste on my tongue and feel against my skin like silk made manifest. It made my knees unsteady, my thoughts scatter.
The nest chamber’s environmental controls had been precisely calibrated to her preferences. Warm light cascaded from hidden sources, creating pools of gold and amber that made her carefully curated fabrics glow like captured starlight. Flowing emerald and cream layers draped across furniture and walls, transforming the space into something that belonged in fairy tales rather than starship corridors.
She looked magnificent framed against this backdrop of luxury and comfort. Gone were the formal gowns that had marked her station life, replaced by flowing layers in soft emerald and cream that complemented the nest’s carefully curated palette.
The fabrics moved with her like water, outlining curves without constraining them. Her hair fell in loose waves over one shoulder, revealing the still-healing mark Luca had placed with such reverent care.
Beautiful felt inadequate. She was ethereal—a vision of omega grace that made my chest ache with want I had no right to feel.
The door sealed behind us with finality that resonated through my bones. Alone. We were actually alone in her most intimate space, surrounded by scents and textures chosen specifically to comfort and nurture. The magnitude of trust she was showing me left me dizzy with disbelief.
“What do you need help with?” My voice emerged steadier than expected, though my hands trembled as I clasped them behind my back.
Instead of answering, she reached for me again, fingers threading through mine with deliberate intention. Her touch burned like starfire as she guided me deeper into her sanctuary, past the carefully arranged cushions and flowing curtains, toward the massive bed that dominated one corner like a throne fit for a queen.
“Sit.” The gentle command brooked no argument.
I perched on the edge of her nest, acutely aware of how the mattress dipped under my weight, how her exotic scents woven into the fabric rose around me like incense. Every instinct screamed that I didn’t belong here—in this sacred space designed for her alpha, her chosen pack. Yet she’d brought me here, asked for my presence with an authority I couldn’t deny.
“I wanted to get a closer look at you,” she said softly, studying my face with an intensity that made my pulse race. “Now that we have time.”
The admission struck me speechless. Closer look? At me?
Her hands moved to the hem of my shirt, and I froze.
“Elara—”
“Please.” The single word carried such gentle authority that my protests died unspoken. “Let me see.”
With careful reverence, she lifted the fabric with quiet care, pulling it over my head and baring my chest to her gaze. Then she stepped between my legs, close enough for her scent—vanilla and lavender, soft and heady—to wrap around me. It stirred something low and deep.
Cool air brushed my skin. Then came the heat of her attention, slow and searching, as she took in every bruise the restaurant fight had left behind. The marks had darkened—ugly shades of green and purple spreading like a map of violence across my chest.
Each touch sent shocks coursing through me, electric and warm, not pain but something far more dangerous. “Do I need to grab your medpack?” Her brows knit together, and she didn’t hide the worry in her voice. Her emerald eyes searched mine with a concern that made my heart stutter. “Another dose, maybe?”
I shook my head, swallowing hard, my throat suddenly dry. “No, I’m fine.”
The bruises didn’t hurt under her touch—her fingers were too careful, too reverent. She leaned closer, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders, and pressed her lips to the bruise on my forearm, a soft kiss that stole my breath.
“Thank you,” she murmured, moving to another mark on my shoulder, kissing it just as gently. “For defending me. For stepping between me and those alphas.” Her lips found another bruise, this one on my chest, and I felt the warmth of her breath against my skin. “You were brave,” she whispered, moving closer. “And now that I know everyone’s okay…it’s hard not to see how attractive that was.”
My throat tightened, her words sinking into me like a brand. “I’m yours, Elara,” I breathed, the admission scraped raw from my throat. “But I don’t want to blur the lines between clan medic caring for his omega if you—”
Her hands dragged down my legs with slow deliberate pressure, cutting off my protests and drawing a sound from my chest that bordered on desperate.
An agonized groan escaped as she climbed onto my lap, straddling me, her hands dragging up my chest, fingers splaying over my pecs. My eyes fluttered shut, absorbing her touch, every nerve alight. If I looked into her eyes, I’d be done—undone by the want I knew I’d find there.
She pressed against me, warm and soft and so damn sure. I hardened instantly, heat pooling in my belly, the ache sharp, impossible to ignore.
