Page 10 of Hard Knot

The air around me feels charged, and heavy with potential. That sweet-dark scent that's making my head spin is only making it harder to think straight and not get lost in all these different emotions.

I grip the armrests harder, feeling the cheap plastic creak beneath my fingers.

Omega.

The word echoes in my mind, a taunt and a promise. I've been around enough Omegas in my life to recognize one,but this...this is different.Lethal?This one smells like danger wrapped in sugar.

Like every dessert that's ever led to sin.

It’s even more dire than I dare acknowledge because I feel as though I’d commit all the sins if it means that beauty of twinkling gold could be mine for the taking.

Be our Omega…

I have to cut the mere idea out of my mind or I’ll go insane.

We don’t do Omegas.

They pollute our minds. Taint us in a way we can’t disdain from. Until we’re consumed and that’s when we’re their collared pets and in their domain…

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, reminding myself that Omegas are off-limits for us.

We’re here for transactions only.

Nothing more.

Some of the other students filed into the auditorium while I was lost in thought, and their whispers reached me now, sharp with malice.

"The Forgotten One."

"Five years without a pack."

"Probably cursed."

Each comment makes my muscles tense further, though I couldn't say why.

I don't know this girl. Don't owe her anything.

Hell, I should be focused on finding a suitable,safeOmega to help secure my position here. Someone proper and controlled who can help convince the administration we're reformed so we can get back to our privileged lives.

Not this wild creature who looks more likely to burn the place down than play by its rules.

Though, I’d never met a rebellious Omega.

She could be the first.

As the first notes of music fill the air and she begins to move, I know I've already lost whatever mental battle I was confident in winning.

That scent, those movements, the charged air — they're weaving a net I'm not sure I want to escape from. A trap that has every intention of sweeping me in when I least expected it.

Sweet poison.

That specific combination rings in my brain as I watch her command the stage with a fusion of styles I've never seen before. Who in their right mind in the realms of dance mixes something as serene and perfected as ballet with a style of harsh dominance and projected passion like hip-hop?

Sweet Poison…that's what she is.

Like every other poison I've encountered in my life, I know exactly how dangerous she could be. How lethal she can become…and I’m not ready to get bitten yet.

The haunting melody of "Do You See Now" fills the auditorium, and I find myself leaning forward despite my reservations.

---