Page 7 of Small Town Shy Omega
— They were to work in my service for at least six weeks
— If I went through a heat, they could not impregnate me with a thorough discussion pre-knotting
“How do you feel about knotting?” Josh asked, his voice mellowed out from his earlier growls.
I shrugged, sipping some hot raspberry tea they made me. “I mainly crochet, but I knit too.”
“No, knotting.”
Oh.Ohhhh.Not knitting.
“I…” I’d never been knotted before, but I wasn’t about to tell my Alphas that. “I’d rather not.”
Josh shot a look at Blake. “We need knot condoms. In case…”
“In case she goes into heat,” Dreydon growled in response, and my heart flittered.
My eyes swept up to the tall, immense grizzly-of-a-man, Dreydon. He towered over the others at the table, his frame bulging and massive.
When Dreydon spoke… I sensed death lurked under his words, like in another life he could’ve been the grim reaper.
Or a mafia boss, I feared. A hitman, or maybe in a motorcycle club.
Or a grizzly shifter…
A shudder went through me, my Omega slipping back into her cage. “Welp,” I said quirkily, rising from the chair, “this is getting awkward!”
My Alphas just stared at each other. Then, Dreydon pulled some whole-wheat flour out of his canvas farmers’ market bag, and Blake rose to sift it.
Hours later the smell of raspberry-chocolate brownies wafted through my cottage. My nose sniffed the air, and I drifted along the scent line straight back to the kitchen.
“My oven,” I murmured, furrowing my brows in confusion, “hasn’t been used in many months.”
“We got it up and running,” Dreydon growled, his mittened hands pulling out the brownies. “Try one, Layla.”
“Drey,” Josh growled, shooting a firm look Dreydon’s way. “They have to cool, bro.”
“Sorry,” Dreydon growled, scrunching his face. “Fuck,I almost fucked up…”
“It’s okay.” I went to Dreydon, calmly patting his shoulder. Touching the beast… scared me. “Breathe.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath—and I was so glad, his breath was so strong yet so controlled, and I did not feel even for one second—that he would fly off the handle, throw the muffin tin, punch through the drywall like my last pack.
Dreydon simply… set the muffins down. He removed them one by one, putting them on a drying rack.
“I need,” Dreydon growled, unable to look me in the eyes… “Some time alone. I’m going for a walk, enjoy your muffins Layla.”
He left.
And in his wake, I ate a muffin and mourned. I mourned the beast’s absence. He had such immaculate control over his emotions. He was unlike any Alpha I’d ever met. And it was somehow both deadly and yet… protective.
Over the next few days,the pack and I became… if not friends, then acquaintances.
With our consent contract out of the way, I didn't have to worry about the Alphas launching themselves at me, or just… forcing me to the kitchen. Chaining me to the range, as my last pack had done.
They just… talked to me. Spoke, laughed. Blake even asked if he could give me a nuggie one day, and I shrugged.
“Sure, why not,” I mumbled, and he couldn’t hear me so he asked me to repeat myself.
