Page 174 of Down Knot Out
As for me…
“Nightshade Publishing is still trying to buy the rights to your new trilogy. They’re offering to increase the advance.” Grady grins, the excitement he’s been containing breaking through. “Apparently, monster romances are trending. Who knew?”
I stick my tongue out at him. “I told you. But we’re not selling this time. Indie is where it’s at.”
Before he can try to sell me again on selling to a big publisher, a knock at the door interrupts us.
Holden pokes his head in, his curls tamed for once and his suit fitted across his shoulders.
His cheeks flush when he sees me, and the bond between us pulses with his approval. “You look beautiful, but Dominic sent me to check if you’re ready. Blake is about to combust from nerves, and Nathaniel keeps shooing his father away from rearranging the chairs.”
I laugh, imagining my Alphas pacing the courtyard, waiting for their Omega. “Tell them five more minutes.”
“Five Alpha minutes or five Omega minutes?” Holden teases. “Because you said five minutes twenty minutes ago.”
“Five human minutes.” I shoo him away. “Now go. This is supposed to be a surprise reveal.”
When the door closes behind him, I turn back to Grady. “I never thought I’d have this.”
He takes my hands in his. “A bonding ceremony?”
“A family.” The word catches in my throat. “A pack who wants me.”
Grady’s expression softens. “You deserve every bit of it.”
Outside, the music changes to signal that the ceremony will soon begin.
Grady chuckles. “He’s taking your five human minutes seriously this time.”
“Ha, ha. You’re so funny.” I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of roses and lavender.
“Ready?” Grady offers his arm.
I clutch my bouquet in one hand and slip my feet into the heels waiting by the bed. “Ready.”
We step out into the hallway, and the carpet stretches in front of us, leading to the stairs. The ceremony waits below, my future condensed into thirty minutes of vows and promises that will formalize what our bond Marks already declare to the world.
We belong to each other.
“Chloe.”
The voice cuts through the air, so out of place here that I almost mistake it for imagination. I freeze, fingers tightening around my flower stems until a thorn pricks my skin.
“Did you hear—” I begin, but Grady’s sudden tension answers before I finish.
“Chloe!” the hiss comes again, sharper now, and ice slides through my veins.
A figure emerges from the alcove near theservice elevator. The hotel staff uniform hangs too loose on Vivian Sinclair’s frame, the name tag missing, the sleeves rolled up to hide the length. Her pink hair, the same shade as mine, hangs lank around a face that once resembled mine before alcohol and bitterness carved new lines into it.
Being dropped by both the Sinclair and Santaros packs has not gone well for her health.
“Mother.” The word tastes sour on my tongue.
Vivian steps forward, her movements unsteady. Her eyes gleam with a feverish light, pupils contracted to pinpoints despite the dim hallway. Not drunk, then. She’s found the heavier drugs again.
“You think this will make you legitimate?” She spits the words, each one loaded with contempt. “This pack of mongrels?”
Grady shifts beside me, arm stretching across my path, but I place my hand on his elbow. “It’s okay. I can handle this.”
