Page 10 of Love Me Knot, Part One (Knotty Omegas #1)

DAPHNE

Ten months ago

In the two months since I left my pack, I’ve floundered more than I ever thought possible. Lacey says the shutdown after leaving such a stressful situation is normal, but truth be told, I think I’m mourning.

I was a housewife before I had the chance to be a woman, with no time to discover anything about myself without interference. Now, I’m almost thirty without a clue who I am when I don’t have a pack to consider.

As if that’s not bad enough, my parents only reach out when they want to berate me for ruining their lives with my selfishness.

And yes, that’s a direct quote.

I hoped I’d have some time to convince them to be on my side, but the harassment started as soon as Maverick and I arrived at Mellie’s apartment. Father’s incessant demands and Mother’s scathing texts came in one after the other until I was a wreck.

Mellie had to be restrained after a particularly nasty text from Mother, lest she put our bail fund to use again.

Kai and Maverick shared a look that made me seriously concerned about their plans.

Lacey just hugged me while I cried for the millionth time.

Because even if I’d hit my limit, it still hurt to realize I would never be good enough for my parents or my pack.

I want to move forward with my life if only to spite them, but I can’t.

Can’t move on, can’t go back, can’t file the fucking dissolution papers my lawyer emailed over the night I left.

I should be up doing admin and prepping to get orders shipped, but I’ve spent every day wrapped in blankets, pretending the world doesn’t exist.

Last year, a few indie magazines featured Nymph and the business exploded.

Clients all over the world flock to get a set.

I’ve even designed an exclusive collection for an ethical porn company.

There’s enough work to support myself and the small team of local omegas I employ to sew, but that hinges on me getting out of this funk.

The door to my borrowed room opens and I know without a doubt that it’s Mellie, even without her roses and razorblades scent—heavy on the blades today. I assume my hates being alone bestie is coming to cuddle, but that’s quickly debunked. “Get up.”

“I’m not peopling today,” I say, clutching my covers as if they can save me.

“That’s what you said yesterday.”

“Consider it my answer until further notice. Save us all the time.”

“Seems to me like you’ve got nothing but time. Up. ” A sharp tug tries to steal the blankets, but I’m prepared.

Mellie and I grew up together. Same circles, same schools, same room occasionally. Being friends for eons means I know all her tricks. Knuckles white, we tug of war with the comforter until we’re both annoyed.

“For fucks’ sake, let go,” I snarl.

“Get out of bed,” she snaps back.

It’s not until my feet come into play, kicking at Mel’s little legs, that she drops everything with a frustrated breath. Victorious yet wary, I fold it down enough to see her.

I can barely spot her typical ripped tights beneath a t-shirt so big the collar nearly flashes her whole bra.

One I made, thank you very much. Her hair’s in a bun as unruly as her, the style showing her natural blonde in a rare moment between vivid colors.

With her hands fisted against tiny hips and a serious mean mug on her heart-shaped face, Mellie looks every bit the alt pixie I know she is.

One perfect fingernail points my way, chain on the end dangling like a threat. “Bitch, I love you, but if you don’t get your ass moving, I will drag you out of here by your hair.”

“I don’t want to.” Why won’t she let me wallow in peace?

“I don’t care. This pity party has gone on too fucking long and now it’s over. Seize the day, embrace the new you, what the fuck ever, just get up. ”

She manages to snag the covers, baring me to the chill in my silk pajamas, but I still can’t move. Paralyzed by indecision the same way I have been for weeks. What if I fuck up again and make things worse? What if I realize I’m nothing on my own?

Mel sighs, tension oozing from her frame. With practiced moves, she climbs onto the bed and into my space so we’re facing each other. Her skin is almost startling hot against mine, another thing I’ve learned to tolerate in the aftermath of blowing up my life.

As soon as I moved in, my friends took it on themselves to fix my touch starvation.

Now, if I want a hug, all I have to do is ask and four sets of arms will open for me.

Well, three. Kai’s pretty touch averse most of the time, but it makes the moments she runs her hands through my hair even more special.

“Things are scary right now, but I need you to hear me when I say this,” Mellie starts. “I know you’re hiding things from us. I’m not asking you to tell me, not until you’re ready, but I’m here.”

Secrets swarm my stomach, threatening to reveal themselves finally. I’ve told my friends so much of what happened with Pack Parker, but some things I’m just not ready to admit. Thankfully, Mellie understands. She’s got her own demons to drown.

“This isn’t about that, really. It’s about you. You need to look at this with a different perspective. You were fading there, Daph. Disappearing in front of my eyes. It was fucking terrifying.”

Her confession guts me. Mellie hides behind her attitude, avoiding feelings like the plague unless they come with orgasms. That she’s admitting this now means she was genuinely concerned for my well-being.

“I’m sorry,” I croak, reaching for her hand and smiling when we both relax into the touch.

“That’s not on you, babe. You tried your best, but the game was fucking rigged. Tell me you see that. Tell me you see that nothing they said is true.”

Before, admitting my fears meant giving them a weapon. Something else to manipulate me. It took years before I understood my need for connection was providing them ammunition to hurt me. But my friends aren’t like that.

“I’m scared I blew up my life for nothing,” I whisper. Those words have been clogging my throat for weeks, threatening to steal any peace I’ve found.

“You are not nothing,” Mellie growls.

“You know what I mean. What if no one wants a partner with my history?” As terrifying as it is to consider relationships in the future, my body will force the issue eventually.

I couldn’t make my alphas happy, even when I had the playbook written out for me.

What makes me think someone will take a chance on an unsatisfactory omega?

“There are no guarantees in life, but for what it’s worth, I think the right pack is out there waiting for you, Daph. Until you’re ready, focus on moving forward because those assholes didn’t deserve you then and they certainly don’t deserve to control the rest of your life, either.”

Maybe I’ve hit my limit on wallowing or maybe Mellie’s said it exactly the way I needed to hear, but I force myself up and out of the covers. “I want it known that I’m doing this mostly out of spite.”

“If that’s what it takes.” Mellie brushes my hair back, careful not to snag her nails. “Atta girl. Speaking of alpha dick?—”

“We definitely weren’t.”

“We should get you on suppressants soon.”

Fuck. One more thing I need to handle. “Can we start with coffee?”

“I’ll buy you an entire store if you get showered and throw some clothes on. Penises can wait until you smell better.”

Though I’ll never admit it, I do feel better once I’m clean, dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Out of everything I lost, that’s something I’ve gained—the ability to wear whatever I want without snarky comments or annoyed looks.

Mellie, beautiful tyrant that she is, hands me a travel mug with my favorite iced lavender latte from that new shop across town, tosses a satin lined hat on my unwashed curls and shoves me out the door. “Get ready, Daph. Your new life starts today.”

“Why does that sound kind of ominous?”

“Because it is,” Maverick says.

As soon as I spot the rest of our friends waiting in the hallway, I understand exactly what’s going on. “Oh, goodie. Group intervention time.”

“Something like that.” Lacey’s cheery smile rubs away some of the bleakness in my chest. She slips her arm into mine, dragging me to the elevator where the others wait.

Mellie and Kai own half of the top level of their apartment, and while their painted entryways and adorable doormats say things like this isn’t a whore house, it’s a whore home, Lacey’s the brightest part of the whole damn floor.

Long blonde waves pulled back with her signature pink bow, full curves covered by a flouncy, ruffled dress from a brand I can no longer afford and heels higher than a skyscraper; she’s the epitome of a coquette princess. I adore her.

“I’d like to announce that I’m here under duress,” I say, huffing Lacey’s light black tea scent. Her base scent smells good, but there’s nothing powerful to denote that she’s an omega yet. It won’t come until she presents.

“Aw, baby want her blankie again?” Chin-length bob swinging, Kai holds open the elevator. She’s swapped her usual loose fabric overalls for denim and long sleeves to fight the incoming cold front. The change always makes her moody, which is why I forgive her for being an asshole.

A hint of sugar sweetens her sour-raspberry scent, leaving an artificial film on my tongue. I’m never sure if it’s body wash, perfume, or something else, since she and Maverick always carry a bit with them.

I’m also not stupid enough to ask.

I blow a kiss and a raised middle finger her way. “Fuck you.”

“That’s not very nice, butterfly.” Standing on the other side of the elevator with her, Mav’s in his usual bouncer fare—black tee and jeans—arms crossed, and reeking of his omega.