Page 23 of Knot All that Glitters: Part 1

He murmurs something into the top of her head before pulling back and placing a hand at the base of her spine, guiding her through the crowd. The rest of us flank them, creating a barrier around the omega to keep anyone from getting too close. It’s instinct, pure and simple.

Tic leans into me as we watch Ren bundle Haven away from us. “What the hell happened to your face?”

I shrug. “Got punched.”

“By who?” Creed asks.

“Luca Falcone,” Hale says before I can answer.

I swing my head in his direction. “You saw?”

His smile is wolfish, all predator, as he watches Haven disappear into the night. “Even better, I recorded it.”

“First one on the board,” I crow, typing in my points on the spreadsheet I created for this very reason. I look up at Hale. “Send me the video, yeah? I’ll attach the proof.”

Creed glares at me but fuck him. This is what we agreed.

“Stop,” Tic says smacking the back of his hand on the larger alpha’s chest. “We’ve gone over this a hundred times. We’re doing it. It’s happening.”

Creed’s nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. I feel the strain on our pack bond as he fights against us, against what he knows is the right course of action, even if he likes to pretend he’s better than the rest of us. He’s fucking not.

“It doesn’t have to be bad for her,” I say. “We can make it good. Make her feel good. Show her what being with a pack is like.”

I’d meant it to be an enticement, a way to bring him back over. If Haven gets pleasure from our touch, our mouths, and eventually our cocks and knots, it can’t really be such a bad thing, right? But Creed’s jaw only tightens further.

“Yeah, sure. Before we rip away her dreams of a future with us and show her that packs are only interested in her for what’s between her legs. For how they can use her.”

Hale scowls, and it’s easy to feel his anger through his side of the bond. “You’re assuming she even wants a pack. She’s her father’s daughter, Creed. She’s probably using us as much as we’re using her. I bet she’s eager to fuck us, and then she’ll run away and marry a beta or a lone alpha.”

I get a flash of Creed’s frustration before he snaps his side of our bond closed. I hate when he does that, cuts us off. It makes me feel unbalanced. He runs a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am telling you, she’s not like her father.”

“And I’m telling you, we don’t have any proof of that.”

“You don’t think tonight was proof of that?” Creed shouts, pointing in the general direction of the club from our house. “You don’t think her showing up, dressed like that, smiling and laughing and not being the stuck up princess we thought she was, isn’t proof?”

Hale’s gaze narrows. “I think it’s proof that she lives a life she keeps hidden from her daddy, but at the end of the day, she still supports all of his bullshit.”

I frown, looking between the two of them. It’s not the first time we’ve had this argument. But it is the first time I’m worried about the outcome. We’ve always been solid in our goal, of one mind, if you will. Frederick Bell needs to pay for what he did to us.

Creed makes a frustrated growling noise and shakes his head. “You do whatever you want, but I’m not… I don’t want to be a part of this.” He points to my laptop. “I’m not playing that game with her.”

Tic tilts his head. “If you don’t play, you can’t win the prize.”

Creed chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, fuck that. It’s not a prize I want, anyway.” My brows arch at that. Who wouldn’t want the prize? It’s all we’ve thought about for fucking years. “I’m not playing,” he repeats firmly, before storming out of the room.

The three of us watch him go. When his door slams, I glance at Hale. “Should I take him off the board?”

Our prime doesn’t look at me, staring down the hall after our packmate. “No,” he says. “No. He might not want to play now, but he’ll regret it later. We’ll keep track of his points for him.”

I share a look with Tic, one that says we’re not sure we agree with this current assessment of our pack mate. But it’s not gonna hurt anything to leave his name on the board. It’s not like Haven’s ever going to see it, and even if she did… well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?

She’ll know she’s a game to us, just like we intend her to understand when all of this is over.

We planned this. We decided this is the correct course of action. So why does my stomach feel like I’ve swallowed a bag of rocks? Why does it feel like I’m betraying Haven when I attach the video of us dancing together, of me kissing her, running my hands over her sweet as sin body?

Why do I feel like Creed might be right and we’ll regret this later?

Chapter 8: I’ll be good

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