Her Knotty List: Chapter 2
It’s hard to say what should have been my first clue.
Was it the strained silence at the end of our first date? The way I sometimes got the feeling I was walking into a room where everyone had just been talking about me? Renee’s slightly abrasive lectures on how to be more appealing to her alphas? Or their absolute insistence on me getting rid of my apartment and job before they agreed to bond with me?
None of that was great, admittedly; but none of it ever felt like a reason to run. There were some… not-quite red flags. Some maroon flags. Or coral, if you will. Blush.
But never red.
At least, I wouldn’t have said so.
Ironically, William and Rob probably would’ve told you that was exactly the problem—I wouldn’t have said so.
As in, I am the problem because I can’t seem to keep my chirpy, stupid heart and my own dang optimism in check.
Just like I, apparently, cannot suss out who is trustworthy and who is a raging asshole.
It’s never really bothered me before. Sure, I can be gullible. But, even if it makes me naive, I like to believe in good things and good people.
So, of course I believed that my perfectly scent-matched pack would be good, too.
That just felt obvious. Like, yes, hello, water is wet, and fated mates are good.
Except not mine.
Apparently.
Stupidly oblivious, I round the corner of the stately mansion’s third floor. The bedrooms here have all been converted into dressing rooms for brides, grooms, and family members. I count the doors in the hallway, remembering my pack was supposed to be getting ready in their own suite.
When I find the right one, I nearly bust in the way the Ash Pack did, but Renee’s shrill whine stops me.
“Willyyyy,” the beta groans. “Do we really have to bond with her?”
I hear the slap of a palm against Renee’s butt, which is probably Rob.
No, definitely Rob. I’d recognize that possessive little growl anywhere. For months, I’ve been longing for him to use it when he looks at me, but he usually seems more interested in Renee sexually.
I figured that was natural. They’ve all been together for ten years. It would make sense for him to feel more possessive of her than he did with me.
Remember how I said I was too stupid to live?
“You know we have to bond with her,” Rob grumbles. “It’s the only way for us to be bonded to you, Renny.”
My body starts to shake as I take a step back from the door. My thoughts race, blurring and blotting into a big, inky mess.
My Omega is weirdly silent. Almost like she’s… letting me listen? Wanting me to hear?
But my brain trills, William! William wants us. Remember how he gave us his knot? And made sure our bonding was right before our heat? He definitely loves us and wants us and—
“Renee, sexy,” William croons, “I know you hate her, but if Rob and I have to tend to an omega during their heats, we need it to be someone who at least smells decent. You know we don’t actually like her, right?”
The words are a hot lash, slicing my stomach. My hands drop to clutch at the beaded fabric of my white dress, fingers trembling as my Omega tunnels into her hole, covering her eyes and hiding like she can’t bear to watch me finally piece together something she’s been trying to tell me, damn it—
They don’t… like me?
It’s one of those moments I experience often. Where I know—I know—that somewhere, deep down, this shouldn’t be shocking.
Sure, they courted me and asked to bond with me. But they’ve also made it very clear that there are many ways they felt I could improve. On everything.
I try really hard not to pull up my mental list of personal improvements to make for their sake, but it’s a little challenging, with Rob basically enumerating things out loud.
“She’s the neediest, naivest klutz that’s ever lived,” he crows, laughing. “And dumb. Even stupider than her rocks-for-brains big brother. I still can’t believe he signed her trust fund over to us.”
Panic jabs into my diaphragm as I gasp silently. The truth is, Theo didn’t want to give any of my alphas access to the savings he set up for me. His pack leader, Ronan, was even more pissed about it. They both begged me to let them set it aside, as a safety net of sorts.
I was the one who insisted they sign it over to Rob and William.
My future alphas asked me if I could contribute to the household/pack fund, and it was the only way I could think to help. My job as an elementary school guidance counselor didn’t exactly pay dividends to start with, and with their insistence that I quit and stay home… I didn’t know what else to do.
Besides, I never expected this.
I thought—I believed they—
“You don’t really want her, right?” Renee asks, her normally-confident voice wavering. “I know she can take your knots and I can’t.”
“No,” Rob snarls. “Of course we don’t want her. We want you, sexy. Only you.”
My Omega doesn’t make a peep. I would feel abandoned right about now, but that wouldn’t be fair. Because I’m not even sure I’m breathing at this point; how can I expect any different from her?
What little oxygen I have left in my body punches out of me when William sighs and agrees, “God, all that cellulite on her ass. Not to mention the mess she makes of any bed we use. Disgusting.”
Rob snorts. “Yeah, even if we were into her, the squirting ruins everything,” he gripes. “We would have asked for another match if that had been in her file.”
I can practically hear Renee roll her eyes. “No, you wouldn’t have,” she harrumphs. “You knew as soon as you realized she was Theo Matthews’ sister that you wanted her.”
“Wanted her money, Renny,” William corrects. “Although having Ronan Ash in our back pocket definitely won’t hurt our start-up. You know we’re doing all of this for you. Because our sexy girl likes nice things.”
Is Renee… crying?
I’m so shocked by all of it; that one appalling detail is the only thing to sink in. Along with a heavy dose of my Omega’s outrage—because every time we’ve ever teared up in front of her, Renee has been nothing short of…
Well.
A bitch.
Now, she sniffles openly. “I hate that we need her just to be bonded. I wish I could do it.”
I hear shifting and shuffling. Enough to make me peek into the dressing room… just in time to witness both alphas hugging Renee and each other, purring as they comfort her.
“We know, Renny,” William whispers. “We know you would do this for us if you could. But we’re going to take care of it. And once we’re all bonded through the omega, the three of us can shut her out whenever we want. Then it will just be us, okay?”
I start to back away from the door again, feeling so nauseous that I think I may actually upchuck in the hallway of the state’s most prestigious antique estate.
Where my parents and all their friends are waiting downstairs.
To watch me practice walking down the aisle.
To marry and bond with a pack that doesn’t even like me.
And wants to use me to make their own separate bond right through me.
Oh my God—I’m going to have to tell everyone this was a mistake. That, once again, silly, forgettable Emma has been taken for a ride.
They won’t even be surprised.
This is what I do, remember?
Making messes, tripping over myself, trusting blindly.
The neediest, naivest klutz who ever lived. And dumb.
I know I said I need to stop believing everything I hear, but honestly? That seems like a pretty astute assessment at the moment.
What do I do? Who do I tell?
How will I ever face anyone after this?
The gold-foiled wallpaper rasps against my beaded dress as I back into the opposite wall, attempting to stay upright. My legs quiver, knees knocking while I swallow an endless whine.
Shh, I hiss at my Omega. If they hear us, they’ll come out here. And then—
Oh God. I’ll die.
I’ll die if I have to face them after what I just witnessed.
It’s inevitable, though, isn’t it? Even if I run to my parents… or Theo… eventually, I’ll have to confront them.
I need help.
Stumbling, sobbing, I scurry back to my suite as quietly as I can. Every second I spend in the halls is another chance someone will see me falling apart—and word will spread all the faster. I duck into the room without pausing, fear tunneling a pit into my stomach.
All four Ash Pack alphas snap their attention to me as I dash in. Ronan is under Meg, her side pressed along his front; Declan crowds behind her, his hands spread possessively over her baby belly. She sobs into her hands, inconsolable, while Theo stands like a statue at the end of the chaise, staring at his mate and pumping sour lemon stress into the air.
Archer is the only one not glaring. He glances up from his place on the floor, kneeling as he checks his omega’s heart rate with his fingers. “Emma,” he sighs. “Could you get ready in another room, perhaps? Meg isn’t ready to apologize yet and—”
Declan’s growl rends the air, sending my Omega scrambling back to her bunker. “She has nothing to apologize for,” he defends, vehement.
Ronan’s heavy silver eyes land on mine, sifting like smoke, full of the sort of disapproval that sticks in my soul like a splinter. He doesn’t speak, but a flex of dominance draws a whimper up my throat.
I have to tell them what just happened. They need to know so they can try to fix the bank accounts or undo the honeymoon they paid for or—
“Theo.”
My big brother has always been my hero. He’ll take pity on me and listen.
I squeak his name, barely able to eke it out between gasping sobs. But my brother doesn’t look up.
I say it louder, “Theo!” and he finally snaps to. Pivoting to face me.
And glaring.
“Jesus, Emma!” he snarls. “Get out.”
The bark scrapes my insides, grinding everything to a halt. My body moves, carrying me from the room and flinging me flat against the wallpaper again. I blink through my tears, bewildered and betrayed.
Theo’s never barked at me. Ever.
His command loops through my mind. Get out. Get out. GET OUT.
Honestly, it sounds like a good idea. Get out of here and never come back. Run and hide from all the people I’ve let down by being so dumb and naive and needy. Escape before anyone can find out that I blew up my whole life and lost millions of dollars over a sham.
Not to mention—somewhere, in this very building, Gunnar Sinclair is waiting to watch me walk down the aisle. And he’ll be here to witness every mortifying second to come.
For some reason, that lone fact finally sends me over the edge. My Omega snatches the reins, desperate to steer us off any course that would lead to ruining Gunnar’s opinion of us.
Too late, babe.
But it’s also too late to reason with her. Or me.
Get out. Get out. Get out.
And the next thing I know, I’m running.