Page 61

REMI

I look good.

The dress that Knox sent does me justice.

Bathed in the warm glow of the dressing room lights, I stand before the mirror, draped in a gown so beautiful, so intricately spun from the very essence of gold.

The fabric glimmers with every movement, cascading down my silhouette, tracing each subtle curve and hollow with a gentle, reverent touch.

The bodice clings lovingly, sculpted as if by a master’s hand, while the skirt floats outward in liquid sheets, pooling around my feet like molten sunlight.

Every step I take is a promise—effortless, confident, radiant.

Tonight, I am gilded elegance, a flame among embers, and as I adjust a single, shimmering earring, I know the night is poised to unfold at my feet.

Feet that are encased in golden stilettos with intricate, spun gold chains, which I think are actually real.

Crystals adorn the strap over my toes, but upon closer look, I …

believe they are real diamonds. Nerves nearly get the best of me when I do one last spin.

But I push that feeling down, knowing if Knox didn’t want me to wear them, then he wouldn’t have bought them.

My hair cascades down my back in classic waves, each lock gleaming beneath the lights like polished silk.

The gentle S-curves ripple to my waist, catching glimmers of gold from the gown and reflecting them in rich, sunlit strands.

With every turn, the waves sway and settle, elegant and timeless—a style that speaks of old Hollywood glamour, soft yet strong, framing my shoulders and neck in a frame as exquisite as any crown.

My makeup is minimal—a light dusting of eyeshadow in a smokey eye with blood red lips for a daring edge.

My skin glows, a happiness pushing outward that can’t be contained.

A large smile that shows my teeth won’t leave my face.

It makes my cheeks hurt, but I don’t care.

I’m here. I feel like the center of someone’s universe.

It's a heady feeling. One I’ve never felt before now.

Slowly, the door behind me opens. Boone and Tripp stand at the door, their jaws nearly falling to the ground.

Their eyes rake over me, heating to a blistering degree with desire.

They synchronize as they step inside, getting stuck in the doorway because they both try to come through at the same time. Laughter bubbles up uninhibited.

“Guys, I can’t possibly look that good,” I say, a hint of uncertainty in my voice.

“You’re lovely,” Boone states, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“A vision,” Tripp seduces, crossing the room to get to me.

I hurriedly step back. The look in his eye is one I know well. It’s the ‘I’m about to fuck the bones out of you’ look that always has me week in the knees. Tripp knows how to get to me. His eyes rake over me one more time, and he moves to adjust himself in his pants.

Since Knox told me about them, it’s been getting easier and easier to fall under their spell.

They show me every day that I can trust them, that they are really remorseful over what happened, and that they will never do anything like that again.

I know time will tell, but honestly, I don’t think they will do anything again. I think they earned their lesson.

“Thank you, guys,” I reply, blushing.

Tripp steps up to me, giving me a light peck on the lips.

He doesn’t ask, he just takes. I kind of like that about him.

I don’t want to be the one to make all the decisions when it comes to this relationship.

I want to lie back and be loved. I want to not have to decide much of anything besides how much I’m going to love them every day.

Boone steps forward, his gaze gentling as he extends his hand to me.

Without hesitation, I slip my fingers into his.

His palm is warm, anchoring, and the roughness of his touch sends a surge of comfort through me.

With a reassuring squeeze, Boone draws me closer, steering me from the glow of the room into the soft hush of the hallway.

“I wanted to talk to you about something before you left tonight,” he says, making me wonder about what it is he needs to say.

“Yeah?”

He looks nervous all of a sudden. He looks away before looking back down at me. “Would you consider letting us mark you?”

I knew this conversation would come sooner rather than later.

And to be honest, I have mixed feelings about it.

I want to scream, ‘yes, I would love that,’ but at the same time, I want to whisper, ‘no, you’ve hurt me too badly.

’ However, even being caught between those two thoughts, the one winning out is the one where I see the rest of my life with these guys, even Knox.

“That’s a big decision, Boone. I don’t think it’s one to take lightly, either,” I reply, watching as his face falls.

I can’t help the hesitation. Since they did what they did, it’s ingrained in me to preserve my self-preservation. Maybe I’ll be there one day, but today isn’t that day.

The click of my heels is muffled by the thick carpet as we move, side by side, Boone guiding me with a quiet certainty.

His thumb traces lazy circles over my knuckles, a silent promise that everything will be all right.

The hallway narrows, the lights dim, and the distant hum of a voice from downstairs grows louder with each measured step.

When we reach the top of the staircase, Boone pauses, glancing back to meet my eyes—a silent ‘are you ready?’ I nod, nerves fluttering beneath my ribs.

Together, we descend, his hand never leaving mine.

The world feels smaller, safer, wrapped in the strength of his hold.

Each step is slow and deliberate, the banister gleaming as we start down.

Boone is always just a half-step ahead, steadying me, his presence a quiet shield against all the uncertainty waiting below.

When we’re halfway down the stairs, my eyes lift and land on the most remarkable sight before me. Knox is standing at the base of the stairs, wearing a tuxedo. My breath hitches—his tuxedo fits him like it was stitched by some secret tailor who understood every line of his body.

The black jacket hugs the breadth of his shoulders, accentuating the sculpted strength beneath, while the crisp white shirt is taut against his chest, highlighting the rise and fall of each careful breath.

Even the bow tie, slightly askew in a way that’s so distinctly Knox, adds to the quiet confidence he wears like a second skin.

The fabric traces his form, tailored to perfection—not too tight, never loose, every seam kissing his frame with just enough reverence.

When he moves, there’s a feline grace, each step revealing the easy power in his stride and the elegance he rarely bothers to show.

He catches my gaze, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips, and for a moment, it feels as if the world has narrowed to the silent conversation passing between us.

Every second I’m within their presence, my thoughts swirl inside my mind with the different possibilities this mating could bring.

Children? Love? A future? All of it tumbles through me on repeat, and I can’t say I’m mad about it.

I love the thought of being someone’s forever and having a life with them that most people only dream of.

“You look … there are no words, little omega.” Knox looks me up and down, appreciation flashes through his eyes, and it makes me melt at his feet.

Knox may have been against this mating at the beginning, but since that night at my house, he’s tried everything to change my mind.

He stepped up, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by me.

I can tell. He’s doing what he needs to do to make sure I’m comfortable with them, and that I can imagine spending the rest of my life with them.

As we reach the last step, Knox extends his hand, palm open and waiting, a silent invitation I can't resist. His fingers curl around mine with a confidence both gentle and assured, and before I can second-guess myself, he coaxes me forward.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Knox gives my hand the slightest tug, guiding me into a graceful spin.

The world blurs for a heartbeat as I turn beneath his touch, the soft sweep of my dress echoing the warmth blooming in my chest. When I come back around, Knox is still holding my hand, steady as ever, his lips curved in quiet satisfaction.

For a moment, everything else fades—the voices, the doubts, the weight of the past—leaving only the two of us, tethered by something as simple as a twirl and as profound as hope.

“You’re going to be the most beautiful woman there,” he says, making me blush.

“You have to say that because you want to mate me.”

He tugs me forward until my front presses against his. “Actually, I don’t. Remi, I mean it. The mating has nothing to do with your beauty and the fact that I want you.”

My eyes search his, trying to spot the lie. No matter how long I search, though, I can’t find it. “Are you sure about that?”

His lips pull into a grin. “I’ve never been more positive.”

Knox leads me down the front steps, his hand never straying from mine, anchoring me to the moment even as my heart flutters with anticipation.

The evening air is gentle yet cool, carrying the promise of something extraordinary, and the car waiting at the curb gleams as if it, too, is dressed for the occasion.

Knox opens the door with a slight bow, eyes dancing with a mischief that eases the last of my nerves.

As we drive, city lights flicker past, painting the world in gold and silver stripes.

Knox’s presence beside me is a quiet comfort; his thumb traces idle circles on my skin, grounding me when my thoughts try to run wild.

I wonder what waits for us at the benefit—wonder if I’ll measure up, if tonight will change the shape of the future I dream about.