Page 10 of Knot Your Basic B*tch

Damn it, I should have just left the salmon… but the waffles. Who left behind a perfectly perfect plate of waffles? Could I have run off with it?

No, that was stupid. Running with waffles was way too sticky. I had to focus. This was like a legit emergency.

“I’m not…” I took a deep breath, realizing that I had raised my voice. “I’m not your darling.”

He frowned, shaking his head.

He’d better not say it out loud.

“You’re my scent match.”

…he said it… out loud.

I wanted to roll my eyes. At who? I don’t know. Him. Myself. The whole freaking world, for giving me strenuous academic expectations that I decided to add more classes to… then to top it all off with just a pinch of destiny. With a freaking scent match.

I didn’t need a scent match right now. I had class and quizzes, and a very promising career as a secretary in a small business on the line.

He leaned in closer to me, and his blue eyes turned serious.

“I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything better in my entire life.”

Ah. In order for my scent match to believe that I smelledamazing, he had to be crazy. Of all the omegas I’d met, I had literally the worst scent.

“You don’t have to tease me about it, I know what I smell like.”

“What? You smell fucking amaz—”

“I smell boring.”

Some of the omegas were walking around rocking scents like decadent tobacco and choco musk. Twilight whisky and caramel mocha. Hinoki wood. Bergamot. Oakmoss and vetiver. Tiger orchid. Scents that were spicy and opulent.

Then there was me.

My scent was vanilla.

Vanilla. How incrediblybasicwas that?

Not even vanilla and something else, like coffee. Or even vanilla with another basic scent like rose. It’s like somebody ordered the most generic scent for an omega in the whole world and decided to hand it off to me. What did that say about me?

I didn’t want to think about it. I had enough problems already.

My scent wasliterallyvanilla.

You can’t get any more—boring basic bitch—than that.

I mean, I never thought that I was going to go off and fight crime, and take down terrorist plots, and save all of democracy and modern society like my parents all literally did… but the universe didn’t have to make it so clear that it wasn’t going to happen.

He was pursing his lips like he wanted to say more, but was thinking better of it. Leaving it. For now.

“The other guys are going to be super excited to meet you.”

Oh. Hell. No.

I’d forgotten that in order for there to be a scent match, they must have already started the process of pack formation,and wanted to join in with my brother’s pack. But the minimum number of guys for a pack was three.

Three guys?

That was like three penises. Where were all those fucking penises expecting to go?