Page 1 of Love Me Knot, Part One (Knotty Omegas #1)

CONNOR

The last place I want to be after a long day and an even longer year is a fucking lawyer’s office. Winter may be a friend, but I’m still paying out the nose for his expertise.

Once his assistant brings us something to drink, Win settles that no bullshit look on me. “Are the boys coming?”

“Nope.” I hope that’s enough, but when he doesn’t continue, I know it’s not. “They don’t need to be here.”

Maddie, our beta accountant, sets her tea carefully on the edge of Winter’s desk with a furtive glance at the imposing alpha. “We really should wait until you’re all together, Connor. This involves the whole pack?—”

“I said no,” I growl, a little of my alpha bark slipping in. Her mouth snaps shut with a flinch, and I’ve never felt worse.

Maddie’s a sweetheart. Shy and very sensitive. It’s not right for me to snap at her, and leveraging my alpha traits against others isn’t who I am.

Then again, I haven’t felt like myself in a while.

My thumb rubs over the empty ring finger absently, and I force myself to speak gently. “I’m sorry, Maddie. That was uncalled for.”

She forgives me easily, smiling in that kind way that makes my stomach hurt. “You’re under a lot of stress.”

“That doesn’t mean he can disrespect you,” Winter says firmly, exactly as I knew he would. If there’s anything he won’t tolerate, it’s alphas abusing their strengths to cow others. “Watch yourself, Connor. I won’t be so tolerant next time.”

The weight of his dominance pushes at me, and I almost fight it, but this is Win’s territory. Not only would I lose the battle, I’d lose someone I care about. Definitely not worth it.

“It won’t happen again, but I don’t want my pack here.” There’s no chance in hell I’d invite them to see just how badly I fucked things up for us. Nate’s barely getting out of bed, and Dez hasn’t painted in months. Not since her.

“Of course, hon. Whatever’s easiest for you.” Maddie reaches to pat my hand, but I shift away.

Part of it is habit. For so long, I refused to go home with other scents on me.

Now, I can’t stand being touched at all.

Can’t fathom getting to a point where I’ll actually want it from anyone but my pack.

Even with them, we’ve lost that casual affection I took for granted.

Hugs, high fives, cuddles when we’re stressed were the norm almost the entirety of my twenty-one years, but everything’s changed now.

My scent turns, cold twisting to something biting and deadly. Maddie coughs, hiding her nose in her shirt and I curse myself for not wearing descenter.

Winter casually bumps up the fans to air the room out before sliding a stack of papers across the table. I don’t flip through them. I’ve read each one a million times since I walked away from my wife.

“The divorce and dissolution are complete,” he says carefully. “Pack Morgan has no ties to Shelby Mercer, so you have nothing to worry about. If you choose to bond someone else, she has no claim to you or the pack. Though if you do court?—”

“I won’t.”

“You should set up a pre-bond,” Winter continues as if I haven’t spoken.

Bonds are forever. Because there’s no way to end things once a bite has occurred, a pre-bond is a prenuptial agreement on steroids. But, like scent-sympathy, a mark doesn’t guarantee a happily ever after. The paperwork protects assets in case a bonding goes sour.

For so long, it bothered me that Shelby never asked for a bond. Now, I’m grateful for it.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m not planning to bond.”

Not now, not ever.

Win nods, happy to move on now that he’s covered his bases. He’s never wanted an omega and told his pack as much before they even formed. Dude’s fully prepared to be roommates while everyone else bites in. Guess I should get used to that idea too.

He runs through the rest of our court case rapid fire and then it’s time for the real shit. Money.

It’s my job to keep our finances in check and I haven’t done a great job. Now, I need to fix things before my brothers find out just how much I’ve been hiding.

Facing Maddie, I brace for the worst. “Lay it on me.”

In her element, Maddie’s reserved nature is hard to find.

She shows me a spreadsheet of my mistakes, color coordinated to make it easier to swallow.

Since Shelby and I were married before the pack was registered, there’s no legal blowback on my brothers from the divorce, but Maddie goes through our accounts anyway.

It reassures me to see Nate’s trust fund is untouched, as are Dez’s savings. It could’ve been so much worse.

Maddie’s sympathetic look grates. “Your savings are gone. The house is okay for now, but if you have a rough month at the shop, things could get tight. The debt bothers me most. How are you planning to get rid of it?”

She means the three maxed out credit cards with limits way higher than anyone should’ve given people just out of high school and the car loan for a vehicle none of us fucking drive.

Winter’s lips thin. He’s probably wondering if I’ll go full feral and toss the desk through a wall. I won’t, but only because this isn’t anyone’s fault but mine.

I’m the one who couldn’t tell Shelby no.

Who worked so much building our business that I didn’t see what was right in front of me.

Two years married and together for five, it still baffles me how wrong I was about my ex-wife.

The red flags were so obvious they practically glowed and I did everything and anything not to look.

To pretend that life was exactly the way I wanted it to be.

I’m grateful I found out she wasn’t who I thought she was before it was too late.

Even if it destroyed everything I knew and left me kneeling on the ashes of everything we’d built, it also forced me to get up again.

To keep going and fight for my pack the way I should have from the start.

Everything I do is to be better for my brothers.

She made me a better pack lead, even if she ruined something vital in the process.

“We’re selling the car,” I say calmly, shoving the frustration deep. “I’m working with the credit companies to consolidate the debt, and I’ll pay it down myself.”

“That won’t work for anything medical,” Maddie says.

It’s the elephant in the room; one I’m not interested in acknowledging. “That’s not pack related.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” She raises a brow, daring me to argue, but I can’t. She’s right.

“My brothers don’t know about that, and I’m not ready to explain. For now, can you work out a spending plan that will get this sorted in three years or less?”

Maddie shifts into numbers mode, opening a new tab on her spreadsheet and typing notes so fast her fingers nearly blur. “That means serious cuts to your lifestyle or a massive increase in income. Can you guarantee either of those?”

“Whatever it takes,” I promise. If it means working three jobs and sleeping every few days, I’ll make it happen. My pack deserves to thrive even if I don’t.

After promising to send me the spending plan, Maddie leaves with another apology from me for the outburst. Only when she’s gone and I’ve dropped into the chair again, do I let everything crash down on me.

How helpless I’ve felt as I try to fix things. The carnage left behind from just how deep my ex’s betrayal went. Putting on a brave face for Dez and Nate, knowing they need me to be their strength.

It’s overwhelming. Stifling. The responsibility for the people I love has always weighed heavily, but never more than it does right now. It would be so easy to break, to let myself finally fall apart.

No. We’re not doing this.

Pushing everything back takes focus, but I’ve worked hard at the skill.

Learned how to wrap all my feelings in a neat little box and bury it for later—or never—in favor of focusing on the now.

I can’t stop. Can’t slow down. Everything is on the line, and I have to keep going, or the weight of my mistakes will demolish me if I let it.

Maybe it already is. Pressure sits on my chest like it’ll suffocate me right here in Winter’s fancy fucking office.

Every gasp of air is too little, every attempt to breathe deeper, too shallow.

Hands fisted on my thighs, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to calm my breathing, think of anything but the aftermath of what was supposed to be forever.

But the panic attack doesn’t stop. In fact, it ramps up.

Faster and harsher. Stealing my breath, holding my heartbeat hostage.

Memories fly through my mind, reminders and red flags. The slow, awful pain of letting down everyone you love. Then, a lighthouse. A hand on the back of my neck. Warmth seeping into my cold skin with a firm grasp. A shock to the system jarring me from the past.

Winter doesn’t coach me through it, just stays close as I fight to pull myself together. Lets me feel the self-loathing, and the guilt, until my breath comes normally again.

Eventually, Win pulls away, allowing me space to recalibrate. That familiar exhaustion seeps in and I wonder how the hell I’ll make it home.

“It’s not your fault, Connor.”

“Agree to disagree.”

He’s said it before, but I can’t let myself believe the words when I know better. It was my wife. My pack that was destroyed. How can anyone else take the blame?

Win’s features tighten, then smooth into something unreadable. “You know I’m here, as your counsel and as your friend, right?”

God, I do, but he’s already done so much for me.

Broken his rule of not taking alpha clients and stuck by me through the horrific process of uncovering all my ex’s lies.

He and Pack Cole sent food and booze to the house as we nursed broken hearts and open wounds.

They’re the best fucking friends we could have, and I’ll never be able to repay them.

After giving me a pointed look that nearly breaks me all over again, Winter walks me to the car, forcing me into a brisk hug before he leaves. My skin stings at the contact but it feels like the least I can do, even if I’m more off-balanced after it.

Alphas, like omegas, aren’t meant to be touch-starved. We need the connection to keep ourselves and our packs stabilized. Even if every part of me is screaming to erase her touch from my skin, I can’t push myself any farther than I am right now. Not when, deep down, I know I don’t deserve it.

Not the touch, not the comfort, not the love of my friends and the family I built.

Not a fucking thing.

When Win’s back inside his office, I slide into my driver’s seat but don’t put the key in the ignition. It’s over. Shelby’s gone for good. So why don’t I feel better? Why does it still feel like mourning a year after I left?

Dusk casts a pink glow over the dashboard and my hand as it lifts. Months without the reminder of her lies, yet I still catch myself tracing the pale ring of skin around my finger. A reminder that will linger long after it truly fades.

Not everything that glitters is gold. Not all that you keep is meant for you.

Sometimes, holding on too tight—wishing for things that will never come true—destroys more than never reaching for the stars at all.