Page 102 of Knot All that Glitters: Part 1

Tic guides my hands into the armholes of his button up, pulling the two sides tighter around me, but he doesn’t button them up. Instead, he presses me into his chest, letting his body heat keep me warm.

I melt into him, boneless after coming so many times. Until his knot goes down all the way, I can’t leave, anyway. My head rests on his shoulder, my face nestled against his neck. A feeling of safety, of rightness drifts over me. Like this is where I’m supposed to be.

If only they believed it, too.

If only they felt it like I do.

Or maybe they do, but they’re holding back for some reason. Maybe they think I do actually share my father’s beliefs on pack life, though I would think I’d proved that theory wrong over the last couple of weeks.

“Are we ever going to talk about it?” I ask and instantly snap my mouth shut. Shit.

Tic tilts his head toward me, rubs his cheek along mine, leaving a trail of his scent on my skin. “About what, angel?” he asks against my temple.

I’m regretting my burst of bravery now, now that I have to actually say it out loud. Damn, I was hoping Tic was just a mind reader. That he’d know what I meant without my having to say it.

“Bonding,” I whisper, my stomach already tied in knots. The way he goes still at that single word only tangles them further. “I just… It feels right to me, you know? And I already told Hale I was falling in love with him-”

Tic jerks back, looking down at me with his brows arched. “You did? When?”

I lick my lips. “I don’t know why that matters, but it was before I went home.”

“Did you mean it when you said it?”

“Yes.”

He hums, his expression going distant in the way I recognize as him adding new information to his world view seeing what it changes. “Do you still feel the same?”

I frown. “Why are you asking questions like I’m a problem to solve?”

Tic blinks back at me, his eye losing that unfocused glaze. “Sorry, angel. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just-”

“Calculating. Yeah, I got that. To answer your question, no. I don’t feel the same.” His expression drops and he looks downright devastated, so I hurry to explain. “I don’tthinkI’m falling, I know I am, and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure I’m already there with all of you. Hence the question about bonding.”

Tic’s mouth falls open, but no words come out. He just sits there staring at me, like my statement doesn’t make sense. Then his expression shutters entirely, blocking me out. “I think it’s too early to talk about bonding.” His knot deflates and a gush of slick and cum spills between us. I ignore it and so does he.

“What? We live together already, don’t we? I’ve been here for months, Tic. Most packs bond their omega within a couple of weeks of being in our situation. How is this too early?” But then it hits me. I shake my head and I back away from him, out of his arms, scramble off his lap. He watches me go, a furrow in his brow.

My fingers tremble as I do up the buttons on his shirt. “God, I’m stupid.”

“What? No, you aren’t.”

“Yeah,” I run a hand down my face. “I am. Too blinded to not see the signs.”

“What signs, Haven?”

“I’m always the one spilling my guts on how I feel. I’m the one saying things like I’m falling in love with you and let’s talk about bonding and all of you always respond like this.”

“I think you might need to spell it out for me, angel. Cause I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

Of course he wants me to say it. He wants to be sure I understand. If I don’t, he’ll explain it to me, I’m sure. “You don’t want to keep me.”

“What? No! No, that is not true,” Tic rushes to reassure me, pushing to his feet, stalking closer to me. “That is not true, Haven. We want you, we’re just… worried that eventually you might not want us. We don’t want to lock you into a bond and have you regret it later, when you find out-”

He cuts off the words and gives me a pained look but doesn’t finish the thought. “When I find out what?”

He shakes his head. “We aren’t good men, Haven. We aren’t. And when you realize the extent of the bad we’ve done…”

I frown at him, at his assessment of their character. “You aren’tbadmen.”

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