Page 105 of Knot Their Omega

“That’s a lie!”

“Mhmm,” There’s that pinch of amusement. “You’re gonna get down from there?”

“Why? She’s pretty comfortable with me holding her,” I taunt and grunt when he hits me again, a little harder this time.

“Who let you in?” Icarus complains.

“I think you forget your ‘fake ass client’ is a photocopy of me. Not the other way around,” I counter as a reminder before slowly turning around to try to face him. Probably was a bad idea with how grumpy he looks, seeing the way I’m cupping this Omega’s ass in front of him.

What does he expect? For me to drop her?

“Down,” he grunts.

“And drop such a precious Omega? That wouldn’t be nice.” I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy pushing Icarus’ buttons. He knows that. Probably the reason why we butt heads all the time.I get along with Kai better than Icarus. Apparently, I’m “tolerable.”

No fucks given.

“This is why I’m the leader because only I have self fucking control,” Icarus growls and practically steals the Omega from mygrasp. She doesn’t seem to rebel against the swift movement, but I’ll admit, I’m yearning for her touch already.

Acknowledging that has me frowning in disappointment.

“Go sulk somewhere else,” Icarus grumbles while he lowers the Omega to her feet but has a possessive arm around her before she can even try to fix the t-shirt on her small, sexy frame.

Fuck, she’s petite and hot.

She’s looking up at me, taking me in from head to toe, and I can tell she has a ton of questions to ask.

“Define self fucking control?” I suggest.

“If it was Kai, Kenji, or even your failing anger management brother, you’d already have bullets in your brain,” Icarus answers without a hint of remorse.

“Yeah, probably.” I shrug it off like the idea of my potential death isn’t a big deal. “But who’s going to sing and make Nathaniel’s dreams come true? Not him.”

“Hold on!” The Omega has her hands up to stop us from continuing. “You’re Nathaníel…but I met Nathaniel.” She pouts those lips of hers that are red and swollen from our kissing dispute.

If you can call it that.

“He was a douche.”

There’s something about the way she says it that doesn’t just have me laughing. Icarus is chuckling, too, leaving her looking even more confused.

“W-What?!”

“It’s amusing how blunt you are,” I note with a generous smile. I don’t get easily amused, but there’s something about this Omega that lightens the atmosphere. Either it’s how adorable she looks asking questions and pointing out obvious facts, or her mere presence invites an uplifting mood. “Yes, that was Nathaniel.”

“But you’re Nathaniel.”

“Nathaníel,” I emphasize the pronunciation difference. “There’s a hint of French in there. My younger brother enjoys pretending like we’re only Italian. As if having a bit of French in your heritage is a bad thing. It’s probably because he was bullied in French class ‘cause he couldn’t pronounce bathroom, and the teacher made fun of him whenever he tried to excuse himself. That’s what happens when childhood trauma follows you into adulthood. Told him to go to therapy and jump on a flight to France to see the true beauty of our culture, but alas. He’s a stubborn fuck.”

“I’m not surprised,” she notes. “Though, I’ve only met him once. Then again, there’s a very big difference between the two of you.”

“Even though we look the same,” I conclude.

“Your hair is darker,” she emphasizes. “Eyes are different, too. A unique combination.”

“Got it from my mother,” I reveal. “Just like my jet-black hair. Nate dyed his a few times, so it fucked it up a bit. Either way, know I’m the better twin.”

“So you’re twins,” she declares like it’s a shocking revelation. “Wait. You never told me Nate had a twin. I thought you said just a sister.”

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