Page 34 of A Very Knotty Halloween

“What happened?” Based on her tone, it doesn’t sound good at all, which shocks me. This is not how I imagined it going for her.

She taps her nails against the steering wheel. “I can’t tell you.”

“What?” Out of everything she could’ve said, that’s not at all what I thought she’d say. “What do you mean, you can’t tell me? Did something happen? Did you have to use your safe word?” No, that doesn’t quite fit. If she had to use her safe word, she’d be pissed right now. Pissed at the wasted opportunity.

But Sabrina isn’t acting pissed. No, with the way her hands clench on the wheel, how she keeps looking in the rearview mirror—that is now full of my guys and their vehicle—she’s acting spooked. Nervous. Paranoid. All very un-Sabrina-like.

“We’re being followed,” she whispers. “Shit.”

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “No, no. Well, yeah, but they’re following us because of me. The alphas in that car—they’re who I was with last night. Can you see the driver? Do you know who he is?”

Sabrina’s gaze narrows in the rearview mirror as she drives us through the forest. “Is that… holy shit. Your stepbrother? Right. That’s right. You did mention him. I completely forgot.” She laughs after that, but it’s a nervous sound, and it doesn’t do anything to ease the tension inside the car. “Damn, he’s hot. How’s it going to go over with your parents?”

“We’re, uh, scent matches, so—”

“No way! Seriously? You’re scent matches with your stepbrother? What are the freaking odds?” When she says that, she almost sounds like her typical self—almost, but not quite. “Damn, girl, I wish I had your luck. Tell me all the details. How were they?”

“They were great,” I say. And they were. I’m not lying. They were great, so great I never wanted the night to end. But… “We can talk about them later. What’s going on with you? What happened to you last night? Why don’t you smell like any alpha?”

She sets her left arm on the window, leaning her head on that hand. Now that she’s no longer checking the rearview mirror every few seconds, she doesn’t seem as paranoid, but there’s still something uneasy lingering, something there. I’ve known her pretty much my whole life, since first grade, so I can tell when she’s not herself.

And right now? The warning signs are flashing big and bright. Something happened last night she doesn’t want to talk about, which is odd. If anyone’s the gossipy sort, it’s her.

Sabrina inhales deeply, and then exhales a slow, calming breath. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, but you know what? Fuck him. Fuck him so hard. If he really knows everything about me, he should know that I tell you everything.”

As she rambles on, I squint my eyes at her, trying to imagine what sort of alpha she would’ve met tonight that would know everything about her. An all-knowing alpha who didn’t touch her, didn’t hook up with her.

Who is she talking about?

“Threatening me,” she mutters under her breath, her anxious, paranoid exterior giving way to pure fury.

“Wait. An alpha threatened you?”

“Yes,” she goes on. “Sort of. I mean, he didn’t actually threaten me, but it was definitely implied. Get this: he said he’d nuke my socials, so—fuck.”

He threatened to destroy her socials? Her social media following? I know she’s got a pretty big following—she’s beautiful and outspoken, the kind of omega that does well when it comes to social media. In fact, threatening to kill her social media presence was probably the worst thing anyone could have done.

But why?

“How could a random alpha nuke your socials?” I ask, still not getting it. “If he was that angry with you, why didn’t you just use your safe word?” There are still a few pieces of this puzzle I don’t have, something my friend isn’t telling me, and the more she dances around the subject, the more I feel like it’s a bomb she doesn’t want to let go of.

She goes off, “Who does he think he is? Some kind of god? I mean, all I wanted was some pictures of his inner workings. We weren’t searched when we went in. I thought I could slip behind the scenes and get a few pics in—”

“How would you get pictures if we had to turn in our phones?”

“Last time I upgraded, I kept my old phone. It doesn’t connect, but it can be used on Wi-Fi still. I thought I hid it well, but apparently not.” Now she sounds bitter. “Apparently I didn’t do anything good enough last night.”

Now, now it’s finally beginning to come together for me, what she’s saying without explicitly saying. There are numerous articles out there, and they come around every year around this time. How do these holiday hunts get organized? Who exactly is the Mr. Holiday behind the Halloween Hunt? There are even articles of people trying to get into the hunts to blow the lid on the whole operation, but none of them ever got an invitation.

Holy shit.

“Sabrina,” I say her name very slowly, “are you saying youmetMr. Holiday? Was he the one who threatened to nuke your profiles?” Even as I say it, it doesn’t sound right, but based on the look on my friend’s face, I hit the nail right on the head.

“Mr. Holiday,” she scoffs. “He’s just a creepy alpha with a creepy mask and an even creepier voice. He must come from old money, maybe one of the founding families or something, because I don’t get how someone like him can be in charge of something like this.”

Even though I figured it out, my mouth is still agape.

She laughs. “He said he’d be watching me, to make sure I don’t spill a word on the things I saw. The asshole confiscated my phone—my property!” With a groan, she grinds her teeth. “How creepy is that? He said he could destroy everything I worked hard to build in less than sixty seconds. That’s fucked!”

Sabrina has so many followers, she gets paid sponsorships and checks all the time. I wouldn’t say she’s a social media star, but maybe that’s what she is. I’ve never been huge on any of those sites, so maybe having a few million followers really is something to brag about. I know the money she makes off it could set her up for life, if she keeps it up and is smart with it; she doesn’t even need a pack.

Not like me.

But she’ll be forced into one, since her family is big on traditions. Typically it’s what you get when you’re from a well-off family like Sabrina. Even now, I don’t think her parents are quite aware of just how big her online presence is.

“Enough about me and my shitty night,” she says with a shake of her head. I don’t know who she’s trying to distract more: me or her. “Tell me about yours. I want to know everything.”

I have a million questions about her night and Mr. Holiday, but I relent and start telling her about the three guys who are now mine. Cas, Damien, and Jack. Three alphas who have already changed the course of my life after a single night. My friend’s night may have been crazy, but mine?

Mine was perfect.