Page 81 of Knot Gonna Lie
Wonder filled me… unable to fathom that she’d marked me. I kissed her forehead, lingering there, the weight of the truth of her words settling in my chest—not heavy, but right.
“Yours.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
LUCA
The medical bay hummed with Seth’s particular brand of organized chaos—sterile surfaces gleaming while he moved between supply crates like a conductor guiding a symphony only he could hear.
Midnight approached, but sleep felt impossible. Not with Elara’s emotions bleeding through our bond like watercolors in rain, soft and spreading, painting me restless.
Seth catalogued heat supplies with the precision of a man preparing for war. Every vial, every supplement found its place until order emerged from potential disaster. The heat kit sprawled across the exam table looked less like medical prep and more like an arsenal—hydration formulas lined in neat rows, proteins stacked, supplements I couldn’t name.
“You’re overthinking this.” I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, affection softening the rebuke. He’d been at it for hours, fine-tuning preparations we both knew were already complete.
Seth’s hands never paused in their sorting. “There’s no such thing as overthinking an omega’s first heat off suppressants.” Another row of sealed containers clicked into place. Months ago, I’d thought his insistence on those expensive sterile storage units I’d authorized was paranoia. Now his foresight felt like prophecy. “The rebound effect alone could extend the cycle to ten days. Possibly longer.”
“Ten days.” The number settled heavy—not dread, but primal anticipation. Ten days of our omega lost to need, only her pack able to ground her—fulfilling her quench. My instincts purred at the thought even as worry threaded through. “The villa’s prepared?”
“Triple-checked the supply list.” Seth pulled up his tablet, revealing spreadsheets that would make Jaxom proud. “Environmental controls optimal. Master suite converted: soft furnishings, adjustable lighting, reinforced sound dampening. Portable med stations for anywhere she nests.”
Smart. Omegas followed instinct, not floor plans. I drifted closer, eyes catching on the modified recovery drinks—dense, enhanced, designed for stamina. My body heated at the sight.
“New supplements?”
Seth’s composure cracked slightly, a flush coloring his golden skin. “Maintaining stamina during an extended heat requires… specific nutritional support.” He cleared his throat, adjusting containers already aligned. “For all pack members.”
All pack members.
The words should have sparked that primal alpha edge in me—the instinct to be the only one, the strongest, the shield she leaned on. Instead, something else settled in. Peace. Watching Seth move with such meticulous care, seeing him wear Elara’s bite mark like it was something to be proud of—like a badge of honor… it felt right.
This was pack.
“She chose well with you.” The truth came easily.
His hands stilled. Gray-blue eyes met mine, surprise flickering before warmth took root. “Luca—”
The bond exploded.
Not pain—pleasure. Raw, desperate, claiming pleasure not mine but surging through me like a wave breaking stone. My knees nearly gave from the intensity. Seth gasped, gripping the table’s edge as the same current ripped through his fresher bond.
Elara. Claiming.
I knew instantly. She was marking someone, sinking her teeth deep, making them hers with that primal ownership only omegas possessed. The sensation rolled through our connection—desperation and need and something else. Recognition. Completion.
Jaxom.
The name surfaced in my mind, inevitable as gravity.
Of course it was Jaxom. Quiet, steady Jaxom who noticed everything and asked for nothing. Who’d kissed her in the mess hall like salvation itself, then retreated as though he hadn’t bared his soul in front of the entire clan.
Possessiveness flared—hot, sharp. Mine, my instincts roared. My omega. My mate. My claim. The urge to hunt, to find, to protect nearly overwhelmed rational thought. My fists clenched, nails threatening to pierce skin.
Seth’s hand landed on my shoulder. Grounding, not restraining.
“She needs him.” His voice carried the same struggle, the same war between instinct and understanding. Through our shared connection to Elara, I felt his emotions too—possessiveness, yes, but also acceptance. Trust. “Just like she needed me. Like she needs you.”
The truth settled deep. This wasn’t betrayal. Not replacement. This was building.
