Page 2 of Ready or Knot

I’ve been warned that the effect is exponential, so the consequences of suppression are substantially worse the more you do it. But no way in hell was I going to go through a heat—something I’ve only ever read about—while in the middle of college and surrounded by mostly strangers.

Violet squeezes my arm and tightens her fingers around mine. “They’ll want you, Fae. You’re witty, smart, graceful. Not to mention a fucking bombshell. Don’t worry. There’ll be good packs there that you’ll fit with.”

I soak in her words, trying to let them soothe the bone deep worry within me, just as the car pulls to a stop along the curb.

“I know this is practically impossible for you, but try to turn off that analytic brain and just have fun tonight. That’s what the Council wants to see—it’s part of why they don’t show up here in person,” she says before stepping out into the night. With a shake of my head, I follow closely behind her.

People swarm the sidewalk around us. There’s a line of people with cameras pointed towards the cars, flashes going off every few seconds. Some others stand near the curb with microphones, videocameras held behind them, trying to catch a few words from those trying to get inside. I take a deep breath and smooth my hands over my hips.

The Council makes these parties a huge deal for Omegas. And I suppose I can be appreciative of it. Unlike the Alphas, it’s the only one I’ll get, so it might as well be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

“Clutch,” Violet says, nestling the small piece of fabric in my hand.

“Oh shoot,” I mutter, and Violet chuckles.

The line of cameras turn towards us as our car pulls away from the curb. Violet smiles, letting her body relax even as she pushes past the line of media people, and I laugh as I follow. One reporter is brave enough to step in front of Violet, but I continue around them. She looks at me, winks, and then turns back to the woman holding a microphone out.

I don’t hear the question, but Violet happily responds, “Oh, I’m just excited to have a night of fun. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I’m ready to make the most of it!”

I step closer to the door, trying to be subtle about my taking in everything around me. There aren’t any Alphas out here. The Council is careful about who works this part of the parties, making sure they’re either Betas or bonded Omegas. Something about making us comfortable as we adjust to all the attention.

The Omegas attending are gathering around the entrance, slowly moving into the ballroom, chatting amongst themselves in groups of two or three. There’s an even split of men and women, and most seem to be younger than me. I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize I’m not underdressed.

Violet catches up to me a moment later and bumps her shoulder against my arm.

“You’re welcome,” she says, smirking, and I laugh.

“Owe you for that one,” I tell her. We brush past several groups, being more intentional about getting inside than most of the people mingling.

“Let’s get you your one allowed drink and then find a spot to see the Alphas. I’m sure there will be someone that sticks out to you.”

Violet is always the one with a plan, and I’m grateful for it now more than I’ve ever been. It’s still a foreign thought, not yet taking root, that this party will decide where I end up living for the rest of my life—and with whom. I take a deep breath, messing with the gold chain I added to my orbital piercing, and nod.

“And what about you?” I ask.

She just smiles and winks.

“Don’t you worry about me, Fae. You know how I am.”

I’m laughing as we take the first steps into the lavish ballroom, and I can’t help but feel like maybe it’s a good omen for the night ahead of me.

JUDE

The light catches the white gold cufflinks as I adjust them before I drop my head into my hands. How are we already back in Manhattan at one of these? Wasn’t it just January?

“Doors just opened,” Logan says, and I groan, sitting back up to find him standing behind Carter and me, adjusting his suit jacket, running a hand through his hair and messing up his gelled style. Carter grunts but doesn’t say anything, looking at his phone.

“Let’s get our drinks before the lines get inundated,” Logan says after a moment.

I’m not going to oppose that decision. Standing, I fix my tie, making sure it’s sitting flat against my shirt and under my vest, following wordlessly behind Logan and Carter as we cross the room. As we wait for our turn at the bar, Carter checks his phone again, shaking his head and cursing under his breath.

“What happened now?” I ask as my own phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. He’s been working longer days than normal, trying to secure a new contract for his start-up, Mountain Tech.

Carter’s look is dry, his lips pulled into a flat line. “The same shit that happens every time we fly out for one of these,” he says, and I sigh.

Nothing about the contract, then.

I can’t decide if it’s good or bad that it’s unrelated to the company.

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