Page 14 of Roommate Wanted (Knotty #1)

Lyall

This wasn’t how I imagined her first time, and it sure as hell wasn’t how she deserved it. But This.

This was the calamity I’d tried so hard to steer her gently away from. After I told her she couldn't leave the apartment for her comfort and safety, she insisted on going back to her room.

It didn't surprise me when she slammed it shut and locked the door.

I dialled Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

“Put me on loudspeaker,”

I barked as soon as one of them answered.

“Aye, we cun hear ye,”

Callum said.

“Ah need yae both tae move in next door. Ewan, I need yae outside her flat windae. Callum yae stand guard at mah door. Yae can rotate if yae get bored, but she cannae leave the building.”

“Aye, Alpha,”

they chorused.

“Ah, triggered her heat, but she rejected me,”

I added quietly.

“Aww, naw,”

one of them muttered. “Shite,”

the other said under his breath.

“If she’s in heat, then—”

“Ah ken,”

I snapped at Callum.

“That's why I need yoo two numpties ower ‘ere.”

“Be there in fifteen minutes. Anyhin’ else?”

Ewan asked in a low and sombre voice.

A soft, broken sob leaked through the wall, and I closed my eyes.

“Naw.”

I hung up.

I stood outside her door. One push. That’s all it would take to shatter that pathetic lock and take what was mine.

But this was her war now. Let the pain teach her what I already knew—there was no outrunning this bond.

Our bond.

Conall whined, pacing inside me.

All we could do was prepare the nest and wait.

**

The longer she waited, the angrier I became. There was a cycle of sobbing, begging, smashing items against the door and cursing me in ways that no one ever dared to.

But the worst part? I could feel her pain in my gut, as if we were already bonded. It could only be my imagination playing tricks on me.

My knot bulged obscenely, and the ache was so violent that it made me want to vomit.

Through the closed door, I could smell her need. It took everything in me not to burst through that door and force her to accept me.

By 4 am, I heard her nails scratching at the door.

“Lyall,”

she whimpered.

“Lyall, please—”

Like a whipped dog, I sat outside her door.

“Am here, Nia,”

I said softly, touching the door.

“It hurts so bad,”

she cried before I heard her broken sob.

“Ah know, ma darlin’, it hurts me too,”

I replied.

She sniffed a few times and blew her nose.

“How does it hurt you?”

Fuck. How could I explain it to her?

I sighed because I knew the answer. Through honesty.

“Am connected tae yae, luv. Am no going through cramps, but am aching fur yae. The longer ah wait the more painful ma knot becomes. Ah cun hear yae, smell yae. The same way yur dying tae smell me and ma scent. It will gie yae comfort.”

There was silence before she gasped in pain. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration before closing my eyes.

How much longer could she endure—this—madness?

Click.

The sound of the lock slammed through me like a bullet.

My heart stopped.

“I can't take it anymore,”

she whispered weakly.

I jumped up off the floor, placing my fingers on the handle.

“Cun ah come in, darlin’?”

There was a shuffling noise—then silence.

I pushed the handle and the door sprang open. She wasn't on or near her bed. I stepped inside and found her curled in a ball on the floor behind the door, knees to her chest, slick clinging to her inner thighs, her face blotchy with tears. Her eyes were red around the rims and puffy.

My heart cracked like bone under pressure.

“Ah’ve got yae now,”

I whispered.

“Let me make it stop.”

I bent down and scooped her into my arms. Silent tears streaked her cheeks, but she clung to my shirt like a lifeline. Her body shuddered before she buried her face against me and inhaled deeply. Slowly, I felt her body relax as my scent dulled the edge of her pain.

By the time we reached my room, she was wrapped around me like ivy. When I tried to lay her on the bed, she whimpered and tightened her hold around my neck.

Afraid I’d leave her.

“Look at ma bed,”

I urged her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

“Do it. Now,”

I commanded, my voice sharper.

Her body jolted, instinct overriding her fear, and her eyes cracked open.

She froze.

The bed wasn’t made up for sleep. It was a nest. Layer upon layer of my worn t-shirts, hoodies, joggers—everything I’d ever caught her looking at, or I’d deliberately left out where she might touch.

All of it was saturated with my scent. Weeks’ worth. Bagged. Collected. Spread out for her.

Her mouth parted as her pupils blew wide.

“It’s yours,”

I said hoarsely.

“Ah made it for yae.”

She made a broken sound and finally let go. Crawled into it. Curled into my clothes like she was home.

And I stood there, watching my mate surrender—not to me, not yet, but to what her body already knew.