Page 5 of Love Me Knot, Part One (Knotty Omegas #1)

Nate hisses through his teeth. I’m a patient man but that’s so far out of line, I don’t have words to express how I feel about it. “I want to help a vulnerable population of our community with something they need while also slowly integrating our pack into the idea of an omega. Fuck you very much.”

Connor’s face falls. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just caught off guard. This is a little unexpected, Dez.”

“Is it? This isn’t the first time we’ve had this discussion.” I’ve been clear about wanting to try again.

He scrubs his jaw. “Why now?”

Nate leans forward like he’s curious too, and I know this is the most important test of all.

“We’ve been in stasis for too long. I’m worried if we don’t at least start interacting with omegas more, we’ll all be at risk of going feral.”

Though it’s not the main reason I want an omega, it is a serious concern. One I know Connor won’t ignore.

Feral alphas are a danger to society. At the mercy of their instincts, they’re less likely to control themselves in high-stress situations.

Some can manage with doses of omega pheromones from scent or rut bars, but others need additional medication that never really bridges the gap.

The worst end up in jail, institutionalized, or dead.

It says a lot that neither of them disagrees.

“How often would we be called in?” Connor asks.

My shoulders drop. He’s willing to listen. “Could be once a month, could be more. Getting chosen is up to the omegas, but we have a say too. Revelry was clear that consent on all sides is required.”

Connor tenses, thumb running over the knuckle of his ring finger. A habit he picked up after everything went to hell. “Bonding?”

“No. That’s a firm boundary for the clinic. They provide temporary teeth caps for every heat.”

That seems to settle him more than anything else. Just when I think we’re in the clear, Connor turns to Nate. “Are you planning to participate ?”

Poof. All that hope disappears like it was never there. Without our third, there’s no chance Connor will agree. This is it. Game over.

Nate throws me a sympathetic glance. “No. I have no problem with either of you doing it, but I’m not interested in anyone but our match. I’d rather die a virgin than be with someone else.”

Connor sighs, fingers digging into the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Dez. Especially if Nate’s not joining us.”

Desperation rises. Connor can’t shut this down when we’re so fucking close to moving forward. It’s not the sex I’m missing; it’s the possibility of more that’s seeping out of this house and my life at an alarming rate.

“What if we just signed up?” I ask. “Maybe we do it, maybe we don’t, but at least we’re not still stuck in the same fucking spot she left us in.”

The air chills and it feels like a ghost has entered the space with us.

“Don’t,” Connor warns, but I’m so sick of holding my tongue. So tired of trying to forget what’s happened as if it didn’t irrevocably change the landscape of our lives.

“She doesn’t deserve to take this from us too, Con.

” My voice wavers, but I can’t stop. Maybe it’s years too late, but this conversation has been suffocating us silently for long enough.

“Shelby was awful. She was a user and a gold digger, but that’s not our fault.

Why are we still paying for her sins? When does it end?

Because the future I see is bleak if we keep going like this. ”

I tap his finger, the one he always fucking touches when he’s thinking. The place his wedding ring sat for so long and no longer occupies. “Don’t you want to be happy again? Don’t you want to get rid of her once and for all? Because I do, Connor. I need this.”

He doesn’t answer, staring at his hands for so long, I lose hope. There’s no way he’ll agree when he’s so set against ever dating again. “Sign us up.”

I jerk back, nearly toppling my chair. “Do you mean it?”

Connor’s eyes soften. “Yeah, brother. I mean it.”

For the first time in too long, I hug my best friend. “Thank you.”

Connor’s stiff as a board when I pull him up, but when Nate slings his arms around our shoulders, he settles.

We swallow his smaller frame, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he leans in, taking comfort he’s shunned for so long.

It feels ridiculous to say, but this hug feels like it’s bringing us back to life.

Connecting this pack in a way I haven’t seen in too long.

Finally, Connor pulls away. His knuckles bleach from how tight his fists are, and I think he’s shaking. “I can’t guarantee anything, but if it doesn’t work, I want you to date outside the pack.”

“Connor—”

“I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve to find happiness, Dez.”

We all do. “Okay.”

Connor pulls me into another hug, and I swear, I nearly cry in relief. “While we’re here, is there anything else we need to discuss?”

Ending now is the best choice, but I figure, in for a penny.

“You’re both here, but you’re not and I’ve been trying not to feel like I’m in this by myself,” I admit, knowing they need to hear this but not enjoying being the one to say it.

“I’m sorry you’ve felt so alone. It wasn’t my intention.”

“Mine either,” Nate says, knocking his head gently against mine. “How can we fix it?”

“Be here more. I’m not saying no more nights at the garage but limit them. Maybe family dinner once a week until we’re settled.”

“Agreed. Anything else?”

“Actually, yeah.” While Connor’s standing in front of us, Nate’s clinging to me like a life raft.

His chest moves with a fortifying breath.

“I think I need to go back to therapy. I don’t feel any better than when they died and I’m worried.

What if I never get better? What if we never find our person because I’m too fucked up? ”

When I decided today was the day to spill my secrets and ask for the world, I never expected an outcome like this. Nate asking for help, leaning on us. It’s beyond my wildest dreams.

“You’re not fucked up,” Connor snaps, stepping close when Nate tries to look away. “You’re traumatized. Considering what happened, I think that’s totally normal.”

“But I didn’t lose everyone,” Nate argues. “I still have you, and I want to get better. For our pack and our future. It’s just hard to do it on my own.”

“So, therapy,” I say softly.

“Yeah, therapy.” Even saying it seems to draw away some of the darkness in our youngest packmate.

My eyes well, and I pull Connor back to us and hold them both a little tighter. “I’m so fucking proud of you both.”

“Proud of you, too,” Connor says, wiping his eyes on his shoulder.

Worrying about Nate’s mental health has kept both of us up more nights than I can count.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the pack lead you need, especially after things went bad with Shelby.

I didn’t realize you were both struggling so much and that’s on me. ”

“Not is your responsibility, Con. We all need to make a better effort to connect.”

“And we will. We’re going to get back on track,” he promises, but there’s something off about the way he says it. Almost like he’s hiding something. Knowing Connor’s had enough feelings for one day, I don’t push. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.

After one final squeeze, we all step back, and I feel a million times better. “How does movie night sound? I’ll order delivery and we can watch things explode.”

“Oh, let’s watch that racing series. I like bitching about how wrong they are.” Nate’s smile is faint, but it’s something. Connor and I grin at each other, knowing we’re going to be picking up popcorn out of the couch for a week because of his chaotic need to throw it at the screen.

“Sold.” I shove them both toward the kitchen and head for the living room to get things set up.

Hope lifts my heart. It’ll take time to repair things, but we’re bonded in every way but bites. If what we went through wasn’t enough to tear us apart, nothing will be. This is just the start of something new. A chance to change our future.

But, as excited as I am, I’ll never forget how close we came. How I had to grasp onto this family with my fingertips to keep us together.

And how close we came to falling apart.

Daphne, s ame day

I’m finally ready.

After learning last night that my pack has an office-wide family picnic, I’ve been scrambling to prepare.

My nail lady showed up at dawn to get me in before the rest of the house woke.

I spent three freaking hours getting my hair perfectly tamed, the strands straight and glossy down my back the way my pack likes.

For a moment, I mourn my curls, but the thought washes away fast.

It’s for the pack. Just like everything else I do.

My skin’s clear against the nude makeup and pale pink nails Jacob prefers, and the elegant blue velvet dress hugs my curves without being too clingy.

Underneath, I’ve got on the deep red lingerie set Lance loves, though it’s not my favorite.

All in the hopes that he’ll take it off later. It’s been ages since anyone’s touched.

The only concession I make to the event is in the shoes—wedges over the heels Corey prefers. I refuse to spend my day yanking my foot out of damp, grassy holes. Instead, I drape a delicate necklace he gave me last year over my neck, ignoring the unblemished flesh like I always do.

Mother was right about one thing. The more I practice shoving my feelings down, the easier it gets.

When I’ve done everything to make me look like the perfect omega, I suffocate in the cloud of descenter I still spray when I leave the house at my alphas’ request and head for the stairs. Yet, when I walk into the kitchen, they’re nowhere to be found.

“What the hell?”

My shoulders hunch reflexively, waiting for Jacob’s cold reprimand.

An omega is only vulgar to please her alphas.