Page 5 of Knot All that Glitters: Part 1

The deep grey of Creed’s eyes darkens with hate until it’s almost black. “He took everything from us,” I say quietly, squeezing his shoulder. “It's time we do the same.”

Creed gives a jerky nod in agreement, even though I can still feel his dissatisfaction with our chosen path. He’d never admit it, and he certainly doesn’t look it—he looks like he could tear you apart with his bare hands—but he’s a bit of a marshmallow on the inside.

It’s part of why I’m the pack lead and not him. I can make the hard decisions, the tough choices. I can choose who we’re going to hurt with a smile on my face. So long as it gets me what I want, I’m willing to fucking do it.

And if getting what I want means spending time between Haven Bell’s pretty little thighs or with her mouth on my cock? All the better.

“Things are wrapping up,” Jude, our third pack mate, says, coming up to us with Atticus right on his heels. He runs a hand through his golden locks, expertly riffling them in a way that makes all the girls go crazy. “Our mark disappeared behind the tinted windows of a car. Guess she didn’t want to spend too long outdoors. Might muss that perfect bun her hair’s always in.”

Creed grunts and glares again, apparently not liking Jude’s assessment of the girl. Or maybe it’s that he called her our mark. Nevermind that that is exactly what she is.

A mark. A tool. A means to an end.

Specifically, the end of Frederick Bell.

Chapter 3: Obvious Baggage

My father hates the designations. Alpha, Beta, Omega. Hates them.

Well, not the beta designation. They are the most human of all of us, not driven by base instincts like alphas and omegas. As an alpha himself, he keeps a leash on his own primal needs, with a grip almost as tight as the one he exerts on mine.

I’m honestly surprised he let me attend the American Omega Academy. But I’m fairly certain the only reason he did was because it would have raised some eyebrows if he hadn’t. It was expected by… well, everyone. Even the people who support his backward way of thinking.

After all, where should an omega go to learn about the instincts that drive them, but to an omega academy? Of course, he let me know I was only going in order to better learn how to control myself.

If he knew that most of the teachers instead encouraged our instincts, told us it was normal to be greedy, to whine, to begfor an alpha or to flood a room with perfume when aroused… Well, he would have yanked me out of there so fast my head would have spun like that girl fromThe Exorcist.

But as it was, he hadn’t bombarded me with a million commands back then, so I could lie to him, work around the few commands he had put on me, and actually enjoy my time there.

If I hadn’t had that freedom, I’m not sure Florence and I would have lasted as friends and I’d be entirely alone in this world. As it stands, I hardly ever see her. My father isn’t a huge fan, but he can’t say much about it, because she acts more like a beta than an omega of her own volition.

Of course, that doesn’t help when she calls me in the middle of one of my father’s speeches, and I’ve forgotten to shut off my phone. It buzzes quietly in my tiny clutch purse. It’s loud enough that Brian, standing next to me, hears it. His head twists slowly toward me, and I know without looking he’s throwing daggers with his glare.

It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. How is this my fault? How could I have possibly known she would call? She knows how my father is, how my life is, and generally waits for me to reach out to her, to give her the green light to talk.

I hate that our relationship is like this. So freaking limited. In a perfect world, Florence and I would live together, spend every spare moment of time in each other’s company, like we had at AOA. But as it is, I’m lucky if I can see her in person once a month.

When it stops vibrating, Brian leans closer to me, until his lips brush the shell of my ear, drawing an uncomfortable shiver from me. “I thought we were over giving you the command to turn off your fucking phone, Haven. I thought you’d learned that lesson.”

I keep the smile on my face and don’t respond. He’s not expecting one. He just likes to see me shake. And I refuse to let him shake me. He has enough control over me as it is.

“I’ll talk with your father about limiting your phone time if you aren’t able to control it yourself.” Frustration boils in my stomach at the threat. I wish I could say it was an empty one, but it’s not. Brian would only have to mention this to my father, and he’d have my phone confiscated in the next thirty seconds. Like I’m an unruly, grounded teenager and not a fully grown adult woman.

Still, I know my role, so when his teeth nip my ear in warning, my smile doesn’t fade, even though there’s a stinging behind my eyes. He’s been like this recently, taking more and more physical liberties with me. A hand just a little too low on my back, fingers that clamp down just a little too hard on my arm, his nose a little too close to my neck, my scent. He touches me like I’m his.Possessively. I hate it.

I’m helpless to do anything about it, bound up in too many commands to tell him to stop, to put space between us.

I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to settle my raging emotions. I cannot, under any circumstances, let them out here. If I do, things will be so much worse for me. Not only will my father punish me, but my own body will. Crying or raging in public directly violates my father’s ever present “do not embarrass me” command.

I feel Brian’s gaze burn into the side of my face as he leans away, straightening his suit jacket. My shoulders slump the slightest bit when he turns his attention back to my father. No one in the crowd notices. No one is looking at me, and I have no clue why it’s so important that I always keep that same demure smile on my face when no one gives a crap about me.

My father is the center of attention and I’m… a prop in the background. Set dressing.

My expression falters the slightest bit when I meet three sets of familiar eyes, all standing in a row. Hale Calloway’s icy blue first, then his pack mates, Jude and Atticus. I may or may not have done a minor bit of sleuthing after the groundbreaking for the clinic, looking up the Calloway pack to ease my curiosity. Nothing will come of it, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t find out more about my father’s supporters.

Though why they support him, I have no idea. He doesn’t approve of packed up alphas. And they are clearly a pack. Proudly a pack even. Have been for the last eleven years. Hale, Jude, Atticus and… Creed.

My gaze lands on him, the tallest of the four of them by far, the broadest as well. He looks like he could break me in half with his little finger. There’s an aura of danger that seems to hang around him, one that warns not to get too close. Well, it warns almost everyone not to get too close. But my stupid omega seems to think he’d be a wonderful alpha who would do everything in his power to keep us safe. Which… for any other omega, might be the case. But not for me.

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