Page 4 of Knot Excused
My stomach instantly dropped.
Whatever I had imagined, it’s worse.
She’sworse.
How am I supposed to work with this?
She looks absolutelynothinglike a politician’s wife.
In fact, she doesn’t even look like an Omega.
She’s incredibly tall, with streaks of pink and blue in her platinum blonde hair, chewing gum as she eyes us up and down.
I try and fail to imagine her beside me at a formal state dinner. Or networking with other heads of state and their sweet, delicate Omegas.
There must besomemistake.
My heartbeat picks up. The doctor has already recorded our temperatures in the official matched book. As is customary, we’ll be married within the week. Alphas don’t like to wait once they’ve found their fated mate.
But I cannot imagine this Omega asours.
I can’t even scent her properly because God, is thatcigarettesmoke? All I can smell is cigarettes and some sort of cloying bubblegum odor. How can I be sure this is even our Omega?
And even though I swore not to, my mind goes immediately to my ex Beatrice’s many perfections as a politician’s girlfriend.
I just broke up with her this week in preparation for the ceremony, and I can’t help comparing the two of them. . .
CHAPTER3
Erain
Oh my god.
Absolutely the fuck not.
I cannot marry this woman.
There has to be another option.
To even compare her to my lovely Beta Cressida! With her delicate, white-gold hair, perfect symmetry of features, exquisite gray eyes, rosebud mouth, and tiny, delicate figure. Her features and movements always elegant.
And compare her to this Omega!
What the fuck is she even wearing?
Sweatpants?
Is this a damn pro wrestling match or what’s supposed to be the most important, dignified day of my life?
She’s not someone I could ever imagineknotting.
Did I mistake the scent? Her card smelled all right, but I can barely remember what it smelled like now. Surely her scent in person should be stronger if that was really hers?
And is that. . . is that a cigarette behind her back?
Was shesmoking?
I have to do something.
