Page 60 of Knot Your Karma (Not Yours #1)

Karma

Reed wasn’t kidding about the reception being over the top—the inn looks like someone threw up fairy lights and winter elegance all over it, which should be tacky but somehow just makes everything look magical.

Also, there’s enough food here to feed a small army, which is probably Reed’s way of making sure nobody can complain about anything.

Everyone’s mingling perfectly—Destiny’s holding court near the bar telling Adrian’s mother embarrassing stories about my early days in Anchor’s Rest, and Sterling and Mom are sitting close together at a corner table looking like teenagers who just discovered they still like each other after thirty years.

It should be perfect. It is perfect.

Except I can barely focus on any of it because my newly bonded pack keeps looking at me like I’m dessert and they’ve been on a diet for months.

I probably smell like nervous omega with a side of holy shit this is actually happening, because every time one of them looks at me like that, my body decides to broadcast exactly how much I want them to follow through .

I’m basically a walking advertisement for omega in need of pack attention, which would be mortifying if it weren’t so accurate.

“You’re not eating,” Declan says, sitting down beside me with a plate of Reed’s carefully coordinated hors d’oeuvres. He smells like he’s barely keeping it together, which does ridiculous things to my pulse.

“I’m not hungry,” I lie, though the truth is I’m starving—just not for anything they’re serving here.

The formal bonding ceremony did something to whatever connection we have, cranked it up to eleven in ways I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

Every casual touch sends heat straight through me like I’m touching a live wire.

“Liar,” Reed says, appearing at my other side with champagne and that diplomatic smile that doesn’t quite hide how much he wants to drag me out of here. “You’re hungry, just not for anything on the menu.”

“Reed,” I warn, heat climbing my neck.

“What? I’m just saying, formal bonding ceremonies have a way of... intensifying certain biological responses. It’s perfectly natural for newly bonded packs to experience heightened... appetite.” His voice drops to that diplomatic murmur that somehow makes innocent words sound like promises.

Adrian shows up behind my chair, and his hands settle on my shoulders like he’s claiming territory. He smells like barely leashed want mixed with that careful control he does when his instincts are telling him to do something that would probably get us kicked out of polite society.

“You, okay?” he asks quietly, thumbs finding the tension at the base of my neck. “We can stay as long as you need.”

The offer is genuine, but I can feel how much control he’s exerting over instincts that clearly want something very different than polite reception conversation. Like, say, carrying me out of here caveman style and not caring who notices.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” I say, leaning back into his solid warmth. “I’m just... aware. Of all of you. Hyperaware. Is that normal, or am I having some kind of omega breakdown?”

“The bonding,” Declan says simply. “Changes things. Makes the connection stronger. More... immediate.”

“Is it always like this?” I ask, watching Reed’s eyes darken as Adrian’s thumbs trace small circles that send shivers down my spine.

“No,” Reed says, his diplomatic composure slipping. “Not always like this. But then again, we’re not exactly typical.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning two alphas and a beta bonding the same omega creates a particularly... intense... biological response,” Adrian explains, his hands stilling on my shoulders. “Meaning we’re all fighting the urge to carry you out of here right now.”

The words hit me like lightning, making heat pool low in my belly. Suddenly the elegant reception feels too warm, too crowded, too far away from what I actually want.

“How long do we have to stay?” I ask, my voice coming out breathier than intended.

“As long as you want,” Declan says immediately, but he smells like barely leashed hunger.

“And if I don’t want to stay much longer?”

The silence that follows could cut glass. Three sets of eyes focus on me with an intensity that makes my skin feel too tight.

“Then we make polite excuses and leave,” Reed says carefully, but his voice carries promise. “But Karma, once we go home, once we’re alone...”

“What happens when we get home?”

“We celebrate properly. Completely.” Adrian’s voice drops lower. “Every way that matters. ”

I look around the reception—at our families enjoying themselves, at the community that’s embraced us, at the perfect celebration Reed planned with such care. Then I look at my pack, at the three men who are barely maintaining polite facades while their scents tell me exactly how much they want me.

“Make the excuses,” I say.

The effect is immediate. Declan smells like yes please, Reed looks like I just solved every diplomatic crisis he’s ever faced, and Adrian’s scent does that thing where it wraps around me like the world’s most comforting blanket, except this blanket also makes me want to do very un-blanket-like things.

“Give us five minutes,” Reed says, already standing. “I’ll handle the family explanations.”

“What are you going to tell them?” I ask, watching him straighten his tie in a way that somehow looks predatory.

Reed’s grin could power the lighthouse. “That newly bonded packs have certain... biological needs... that require immediate privacy. Trust me, everyone will understand.”

He’s not wrong.

He disappears into the crowd, and I watch him work his way through our families with the kind of smooth explanations that leave everyone smiling and nodding knowingly.

Within minutes, Destiny is winking at me across the room, Mom is making shooing motions with her hands while Sterling grins with paternal understanding, and even Declan’s father looks like he approves of us leaving early.

“Ready?” Declan asks, offering me his arm with formal courtesy that contrasts sharply with the possessive heat burning in his eyes.

“More than ready.”

The walk to the waiting limo feels like the longest few minutes of my life.

Every step sends silk sliding against overheated skin, and I’m pretty sure I’m broadcasting omega in desperate need of pack attention to half the state by now.

The driver takes one look at our faces and immediately busies himself with very important dashboard adjustments.

By the time we settle into the plush interior, my hands are shaking. Reed immediately hits the partition button with the efficiency of someone who’s definitely thought about limo privacy before.

“Back seat,” Declan says, his voice carrying alpha authority that makes my omega brain go yes sir without consulting the rest of me first. “All of us.”

“All of us?” I repeat. “In the limo? Are we seventeen?”

“We’re not waiting until we get home,” Reed explains, pulling me onto his lap. “We’ve been good all day, smiled for pictures, made nice with families. But Karma, I need to touch you. We all need to touch you.”

“Here?” I ask, even as I settle against Reed’s chest and feel Declan and Adrian arrange themselves on either side of us.

“Just touching,” Adrian says gently, his large hand finding my knee and settling there with warm pressure. “Just... connection. Until we get home.”

“Promise?” I ask, though the word comes out as more of a moan when Reed’s hands find the pearl buttons of my dress.

“Promise,” Declan confirms, but his fingers are already tracing the line of my collarbone.

So apparently just touching means Reed conducting very important diplomatic research on the silk-covered curves of my waist. Declan’s doing this thing where he traces patterns on my shoulders that make me shiver and arch, and Adrian’s thumb is drawing circles on my knee that keep drifting higher until I’m pretty sure I’m going to spontaneously combust in expensive upholstery.

“You’re so beautiful,” Reed murmurs against my ear, which is cheating because his voice does things to me that should probably require a license. “So perfect in that dress, making those little sounds every time we touch you.”

“The way you smell,” Adrian adds, and his scent is thick with want. “Like vanilla and need and everything we’ve been wanting all day.”

“The way you’re trembling,” Declan’s voice is rough. “Like you’re as desperate for this as we are.”

“I am,” I whisper, because what’s the point of pretending otherwise when I probably smell like please touch me more to anyone with working scent glands. “I’ve been thinking about this since the ceremony ended.”

“Just thinking?” Reed asks, his hands sliding lower, finding the hem of my dress. “Because I’ve been fantasizing about what you’re wearing under this dress since I helped you get ready this morning.”

“Reed,” I gasp, but it comes out more like encouragement when his fingers trace the edge of my vintage lace garter.

“The lace,” Adrian says quietly, his own hand joining Reed’s exploration. “I helped pick it out, remember? Been wondering all day if it matches.”

“Only one way to find out,” Declan says, his hands moving to the pearl buttons.

The dress basically falls off me, silk sliding away to reveal the vintage lace lingerie set that took three shopping trips to find. The reaction is immediate—three sharp intakes of breath and the sudden spike of arousal that makes the limo smell like want and possession.

“Jesus Christ,” Reed breathes, his composure completely shot. “Karma, you’re going to kill us.”

“That’s the plan,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathy and desperate.

“Spread your legs,” Declan says gently. “Let us see all of you.”

I comply without thinking, omega instincts responding to alpha direction. The vintage lace panties are already soaked, and the way all three of them are looking at me makes me feel like the most desirable thing in the universe .