Page 3 of Knot Their Arrangement

A pinch of the radiating anger I carry in my heart thanks to the one who ruined my destiny; a Father who’s eager to use his Omega daughter as a business transaction than don her with blessings before she leaves the family to join one who will ignite eternal happiness.

"I won't be sold off to the highest bidder."

His other hand comes to rest beside my head, effectively caging me in. The rain continues to pour around us, but I barely notice it anymore.

Not when his scent is all I can focus on when every nerve ending in my body is attuned to his presence.

"You can run," he whispers, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that makes my stomach flip and my core clench with need, "but you can't hide little Omega."

I’ve been caught red-handed.

Now my fate will be determined by this masked psycho…

1

KNOT WORTHY OF ANYONE

~KAMARI~

"Look at Miss Lyricist, writing up the next big hit that's going to be fought over by at least ten musicians and their cocky ass agents."

I can't help but tease as I watch my best friend hunched over her notebook.

"Begging to be the grand winner of Blair Vesper's masterpieces!"

Astraea doesn't even look up, her silver locks cascading over her shoulder as she continues writing. Those striking cyan-blue eyes remain focused on the page, a trait I've always envied about her. When she gets into her creative zone, nothing can break her concentration.

Well, almost nothing.

"You make thousands for each lyrical piece you write, yet you can't reply to yet another invitation to an Omega Singles Meet ordered by the GOVERNMENT!" I emphasize each word, watching her shoulders tense. "Do I need to spell the word out for you?"

"I know how to spell?—"

"G.O.V.E.R.N.M.E.N.T!" My voice rises with each letter, making her wince. The look she gives me could freeze hell over, but I'm beyond caring. "They'll throw you in jail at this point!"

"That's against my rights," she grumbles, still somehow managing to look graceful even when pouting. It's unfair how she can pull off any expression and still look like she belongs on a magazine cover.

"The SOCIETY doesn't give any hoots about Omegas’ rights, Astraea!"

"Ugh!" She finally stops writing, her perfect features contorting in frustration. "Fuck! It's gone!"

"What's gone?"

"The lyric!" She glares at her paper like it personally offended her, and I watch as she fights the urge to crumple it up and add it to the growing pile in her pink garbage can.

By the time those cyan eyes lock onto my 5'2" frame, I'm already lifting my hands in surrender.

Even in casual clothes, she has this presence about her that commands attention. Maybe it's the way she carries herself, or perhaps it's just the natural beauty that seems to radiate from within.

Either way, my best friend, Astraea Soleil, is a stunning masterpiece of an Omega.

She’s also talented as fuck.

"Alright. Spare me from your wrath. I can't handle you when you get all bitchy."

"So it's okay for you, Miss 'I Abandoned My Arranged Marriage' with your cocky husband and group of rich company owners to be a rebel like your dearest best friend..." She pauses dramatically, and I know what's coming. "Aka Moi, to live your aspired 'Bookstagram Influencer Era' falling in love with fictional men. Yet, I can't continue writing songs as a side hustle that keeps us off the streets?"

I cringe at the reminder of my own situation as she adds the final blow.

---