Page 9 of Knot my Alphas

“This way,” says Lisa, walking past me.

An ancient chandelier hangs overhead. The crystals are so dirty, it barely lights up the space.

At least, the carpet we’re walking on seems clean. Unlike the rest of the manor, there are no cobwebs to dodge here. I guess the two sisters made some effort to clean this place up.

“In here, please,” says Rita, holding a door open in a far corner.

I move toward her and enter a spacious bathroom.

Everything is clean but old-fashioned. “Why are we here?” I ask.

“You reek of another male’s scent,” Rita says with a disapproving glare. “Master wants you clean before he can mate with you.”

“I smell more than a single man’s pheromone on her,” Lisa says, her mouth crumpling in a frown. “Master deserves an untouched omega.”

“She hasn’t been marked yet,” Rita says. “She’s unmated.”

“Omegas these days are a disgrace,” Lisa mutters, glaring at me.

“I’m not mating with him,” I tell them both.

They glance at each other.

“Master said she’d be difficult,” says Rita. “Better get the bath ready while I prepare her.”

They’re talking about me in the same tone my mom and dad use when they’re prepping a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner.

Rita comes to stand before me and extends her hand to reach my collar. Her fingers deftly start unbuttoning the shirt.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, stepping back at once and pulling the shirt closer against me.

“We need to get this shirt off you so that we can bathe you,” she replies. “It reeks of another male. Master won’t be happy if you keep smelling this way.”

“I’m not taking this shirt off,” I say, clutching Damon’s shirt like my life depends on it. “It belongs to my mate. There’s nothing wrong about smelling like him. Besides, I don’t need you to bathe me. I can do that on my own.”

The woman shakes her head and lunges at me. “We can’t trust you. We’ll be the ones to scrub every inch of your body and make sure you’re clean,” she says stubbornly. “Master wants you pure and untainted for him.”

“You’re not laying a hand on me, lady,” I say, standing my ground.

“Master said—”

I put my hand up before she can tell me what the asshole wants. “You can kiss his hairy ass all you want but you’re not going to touch me.”

Rita glances toward Lisa.

“Stop delaying. Get her ready,” Lisa commands, gesturing at me.

A determined look comes over Rita’s face. She marches forward and grips the collar of my shirt.

“Let go!” I shout, trying to get her hands off me.

“You can’t keep this shirt,” Rita hisses through clenched teeth. “We’re going to burn it. You can only smell like our master. He’ll be the only one you obey and follow.”

Rage surges through me at her words. How dare this stranger try to take away the one thing I’m left with? Damon’s shirt is precious to me but his scent lingering in the fabric is priceless. I’ll never give up on it.

Something seems to snap in place inside me. My rage mixes with an instinct that has been buried all these years.

Omegas are brutally territorial. They might not be as physically strong as alphas but they will fight tooth and nail when anyone tries to take away what’s theirs.

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