Page 87
Story: Knot for Sale
“I shouldn’t have let you go off alone,” he said, as though to himself.
Elijah managed a wan smile for me. “You’re not alone now. Come freak out with the rest of us.”
But I shook my head. “I don’t want to freak out anymore. I don’t want to think about it at all.”
Curran squeezed my hand. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He led me to the couch and pulled several decorative cushions off it, piling them on the floor. “Down you go.” He settled himself onto the sofa and tugged me down to kneel at his feet.
I went, remembering how he’d done something like this when I was going into heat on the sailboat... when I’d thought my entire life was unraveling before my eyes.
In some ways, my lifehadunraveled—but not in the catastrophic way I’d been picturing. I hadn’t thought there’d be anyone waiting to gather up my loose threads and weave them back together.
Something inside me loosened from its tight knot—an easing of tension I hadn’t known I’d needed. A huge sigh gusted out of me, and I slumped against Curran’s leg, resting my head on his thigh. Callused fingers immediately settled on my hair, stroking me like a cat. Delicious tingles radiated from my scalp down the length of my spine, and I let my worries drift away.
Clothing rustled behind me, the smell of roses and rainwater enveloping us as Elijah settled on the floor next to me, draping his long body against mine. His arm wrapped around my waist, his forehead pressing against the nape of my neck.
“Oh, good,” Onyx said, the couch shifting as they settled in the spot Elijah had just vacated. “I was getting tired of feeling like you could cut the atmosphere with a knife. This is much better.”
Elijah let out a little groan, his muscles going lax in a way that made me suspect he was getting the same kind of scalp massage I was. Through half-lidded eyes, I saw Gabriel’s shoulders slump. He crossed the few steps to one of the massive,overstuffed chairs opposite the couch and collapsed into it. His expression was a complicated mix of wariness and longing.
It was uncomfortably like looking in a mirror.
“We should probably start thinking about the—” he began.
“Later.” Curran cut him off. “Whatever it is, we should think about it later.” He sighed. “I swear you’re as bad as she is. Today was good news for your legal case. You’re allowed to let things be good for a bit without poking at them with a pointy stick.”
“There are too many things to do.” Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, not looking at us.
“Gabriel.” Curran sounded pained. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s not going to make a single whit of difference to Theresa whether you run yourself into the ground ortake a few hours and fucking relax. For Christ’s sake, man—you’ve still got a bullet hole in your arm.”
“It’s healing,” Gabriel said gruffly, letting his hand fall to his lap.
“And it’ll heal faster if you don’t work yourself to an early grave, boss.” It was the first time I’d heard Onyx go against Gabriel so openly, even though the words were kind enough.
There was an uncomfortably long silence. Elijah lifted his head, resting his chin on my shoulder so he could watch Gabriel.
“I don’t know how to relax when I’m closer than I’ve ever been to getting justice,” Gabriel said eventually. There was another pause, before he continued, “But... I suppose there’s nothing I can really do until Mrs. Allen comes through for us.”
Or doesn’t, I mentally finished.
I knew she’d try. She’d never broken her word aboutanything, in my experience. But that didn’t mean she’d succeed.
Curran tugged gently at my hair, reminding me that I wasn’t supposed to be thinking right now. “Spot on,” he said. “Now, stop flapping your mouth for a bit and let the rest of us have a quiet evening...sir.”
Perversely, I felt a chuckle trying to rise at Curran’s combination of utter devotion and fond contempt for his employer. I managed to swallow it, not wanting to offend either of them.
“Message received,” Gabriel muttered. He let his head fall back against the cushioned chair as he took a deep breath through flared nostrils, holding it for a long moment before exhaling. I knew he was scenting the five of us, unconsciously inhaling all the possibilities inherent in our pack-that-wasn’t.
For the first time—maybe for the first time in myentire adult life—I allowed myself to truly think about those same possibilities. What would I have wanted for my life, if I hadn’t been shaped and twisted by the circumstances of my childhood? Who would I have been, if I hadn’t been Emma Huntwell, orphan of the crime syndicate?
Who might I still become?
I’d played the role of a beta because being an omega was dangerous—to my career, to my independence, to my physical safety. But now I was kneeling at an alpha’s feet, letting his stroking fingers and rich scent drive all my worries away. I’d curled in a borrowed nest with Elijah, with the others—and in some ways, I’d never felt as much like I belonged as I had during those precious times.
What if I lived openly as an omega? What if I had myownnest, one that only smelled like me and the people I chose to bring into it? What if I let my natural scent surround me like a sweet cloud everywhere I went?
What if I had natural heats? Sometimes, at least...
But there was the rub. I only knew four people I ever wanted to share heats with, and they were sitting in this room with me right now. When I tried to picture the what-ifs that surrounded the five of us, my mind shied away.
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