Page 112 of Knot Your Karma
“Ready for everything,” I say, and mean it completely.
Karma
Reed wasn’t kiddingabout the reception being over the top—the inn looks like someone threw up fairy lights and winter elegance all over it, which should be tacky but somehow just makes everything look magical. Also, there’s enough food here to feed a small army, which is probably Reed’s way of making sure nobody can complain about anything.
Everyone’s mingling perfectly—Destiny’s holding court near the bar telling Adrian’s mother embarrassing stories about my early days in Anchor’s Rest, and Sterling and Mom are sitting close together at a corner table looking like teenagers who just discovered they still like each other after thirty years.
It should be perfect. It is perfect.
Except I can barely focus on any of it because my newly bonded pack keeps looking at me like I’m dessert and they’ve been on a diet for months. I probably smell like nervous omega with a side ofholy shit this is actually happening,because every time one of them looks at me like that, my body decides to broadcast exactly how much I want them to follow through.
I’m basically a walking advertisement for omega in need of pack attention, which would be mortifying if it weren’t so accurate.
“You’re not eating,” Declan says, sitting down beside me with a plate of Reed’s carefully coordinated hors d’oeuvres. He smells like he’s barely keeping it together, which does ridiculous things to my pulse.
“I’m not hungry,” I lie, though the truth is I’m starving—just not for anything they’re serving here. The formal bonding ceremony did something to whatever connection we have, cranked it up to eleven in ways I definitely wasn’t prepared for. Every casual touch sends heat straight through me like I’m touching a live wire.
“Liar,” Reed says, appearing at my other side with champagne and that diplomatic smile that doesn’t quite hide how much he wants to drag me out of here. “You’re hungry, just not for anything on the menu.”
“Reed,” I warn, heat climbing my neck.
“What? I’m just saying, formal bonding ceremonies have a way of... intensifying certain biological responses. It’s perfectly natural for newly bonded packs to experience heightened... appetite.” His voice drops to that diplomatic murmur that somehow makes innocent words sound like promises.
Adrian shows up behind my chair, and his hands settle on my shoulders like he’s claiming territory. He smells like barely leashed want mixed with that careful control he does when his instincts are telling him to do something that would probably get us kicked out of polite society.
“You, okay?” he asks quietly, thumbs finding the tension at the base of my neck. “We can stay as long as you need.”
The offer is genuine, but I can feel how much control he’s exerting over instincts that clearly want something very different than polite reception conversation. Like, say,carrying me out of here caveman style and not caring who notices.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I say, leaning back into his solid warmth. “I’m just... aware. Of all of you. Hyperaware. Is that normal, or am I having some kind of omega breakdown?”
“The bonding,” Declan says simply. “Changes things. Makes the connection stronger. More... immediate.”
“Is it always like this?” I ask, watching Reed’s eyes darken as Adrian’s thumbs trace small circles that send shivers down my spine.
“No,” Reed says, his diplomatic composure slipping. “Not always like this. But then again, we’re not exactly typical.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning two alphas and a beta bonding the same omega creates a particularly... intense... biological response,” Adrian explains, his hands stilling on my shoulders. “Meaning we’re all fighting the urge to carry you out of here right now.”
The words hit me like lightning, making heat pool low in my belly. Suddenly the elegant reception feels too warm, too crowded, too far away from what I actually want.
“How long do we have to stay?” I ask, my voice coming out breathier than intended.
“As long as you want,” Declan says immediately, but he smells like barely leashed hunger.
“And if I don’t want to stay much longer?”
The silence that follows could cut glass. Three sets of eyes focus on me with an intensity that makes my skin feel too tight.
“Then we make polite excuses and leave,” Reed says carefully, but his voice carries promise. “But Karma, once we go home, once we’re alone...”
“What happens when we get home?”
“We celebrate properly. Completely.” Adrian’s voice drops lower. “Every way that matters.”
I look around the reception—at our families enjoying themselves, at the community that’s embraced us, at the perfect celebration Reed planned with such care. Then I look at my pack, at the three men who are barely maintaining polite facades while their scents tell me exactly how much they want me.
