Page 1 of Down Knot Out
Chapter One
Chloe
Steam clouds the bathroom mirror, and I wipe a circle clear with the side of my hand, revealing my flushed reflection. The hot shower helped relax my muscles, but nothing could touch the restlessness that had filled me over the last week.
Every time I stop working, the email from the Omega Registration Office flashes through my mind, sending me into a spiral of confusion with no answers.
Confirmation: Sinclair pack descendant.
The DNA results required for mycourtship with the pack Alphas of Misty Pines threw my life on its head. I search my face. Wide pink eyes, rounded cheeks, and rosebud lips. I resemble my mother too much to pick out any defining Sinclair features.
Am I my father’s daughter, after all? Or did my mother have an affair with someone else in the pack? Why did she falsify my DNA?
The questions pound through me, and the only one who can answer them is my mother, who I cut off and took out a restraining order to prevent further contact.
As I pick up my towel to dry off, the healing scratches marking my arms and legs catch my attention. Instead of angry red scabs, they’ve faded to pale pink lines. I trace one with my fingertip, the raised flesh still tender. Evidence of my flight through the woods, branches whipping across my skin as I ran for my life.
The memory crashes over me without warning, and I grip the edge of the counter for balance. Louie’s voice rings in my ears, calling my name, his sickly-sweet scent of almonds and anise filling my nostrils, the roughness of his hands on my body?—
I shudder, wrapping the towel around me as my heart pounds, the echo of terror still so fresh.
Then comes the other memory, the one that lives in my nightmares.
Louie staring unseeing at the treetops. Blood pooling beneath his head, seeping into the forest floor. The metallic scent of death mixing with his poisonous pheromones.
My stomach heaves, and I fall to my knees beside the toilet, retching up nothing but stomach acid.
I hadn’t killed him. But he had been planning to do such horrible things to me and my chosen pack. Blake, Nathaniel, Dominic, and Holden. My Alphas, though I still have trouble believing it sometimes. I’d given them up to save them from Louie, given up on the chance of a future with them.
“Stupid.” The word echoes into the porcelain bowl of the toilet, and I reach up a shaky hand to flush. “So stupid.”
I’d almost destroyed everything by running away, thinking my sacrifice would somehow protect them. But Louie had never planned to uphold his end of the bargain and leave them alone.
With a groan, I wobble to my feet, stumbling to the sink to brush my teeth again. I hated Louie. He had lived as a threat to my freedom for years. Myown mother had sold me into courtship with him to pay the way for her extravagant lifestyle. I should be celebrating that he’ll never bother me again, but his death left more questions in its wake.
Simon, my superfan, stalked me on the island in the name of protecting me. He had almost killed Grady, my best friend, and Dominic. And then he had vanished before I found out what he meant about my father. The King? Who was he referring to?
I thought he’d been talking crazy, but with the DNA results… What did he know? What was real and what was his crazy fantasy?
The bathroom grows chilly as the steam dissipates, and I trade my towel for my bathrobe before padding over to the vanity. Morning light filters through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the king-sized, canopied bed that’s too large for me to be sleeping in alone every night.
Because it’s not only for me—it’s for all of us, when the time comes for my Heat. The thought sends a flutter of anticipation mingled with nervousness through my stomach.
I reach for my brush, working it through my long pink hair, the color a signifier of my Omega status. It’s hard to believe I once tried to hide it beneath a blond wig, tried to use blue contacts tohide my true colors so I could pass as a Beta. So much has happened since I ended my book tour and stepped off the boat on Misty Pines for a two-week vacation to plan my next big series.
Back then, I never imagined this would become my home.
My fingers work, separating my hair into three sections to braid it. Over, under, over, under. The repetitive motion soothes my jangled nerves. With the ends secured, I stand and move to the walk-in closet, stuffed full of clothing Dominic bought, intermixed with items I brought from my apartment.
My fingers trail over the hangers, stopping at a section of soft fabrics. My onesies. I pull one out, a white-and-black cow-patterned outfit Grady gave me. The tag still hangs from the sleeve, the garment never worn.
I rub the soft fabric over my cheek. For so long, these outfits were my security blankets, my way of coping when my world burned down. I used to wear them almost every day to combat the anxiety of losing my home as a teenager. But since meeting the Misty Pines Alphas, I haven’t needed them.
I put the onesie back, moving to another section. My hand closes around a thick, oversized sweater in a deep forest green. I add a pair ofblack leggings and thick socks for the cool morning. My fingers linger at my throat, where I used to wear my lucky shamrock necklace, and a pang goes through me. Yet another casualty of Louie.
I glance in the mirror one last time. The scratches on my arms are hidden now, but they’re still there. Healing like the rest of me.
A dab of strawberry lip gloss brings with it a bubble of happiness, and I head downstairs for breakfast.
