Page 36 of Knot Their Arrangement

Just check in and leave.

That's all you need to do.

I keep repeating this mantra as I approach the reception desk. The blonde attendant behind it looks like she's stepped out of a fashion magazine; perfectly coiffed hair, expertly applied makeup, and a designer dress that probably costs more than three months' rent at the Haven.

Make it six months even.

Her blue eyes sweep over me with calculated disdain, taking in my traditional attire with a smirk that makes my blood boil. To her, I probably look like an exotic curiosity — something to be cataloged and dismissed.

"Name and invitation?" Her voice carries that particular tone of bored superiority that only comes from years of looking down on others.

I stand straighter, channeling every etiquette lesson my mother ever drilled into me.

"Kamari Prava Ahvi," I state clearly, sliding the government invitation across the marble counter.

My voice barely betrays my breathlessness from running here.

She picks up the invitation with manicured fingers, examining it as if it's something she found stuck to her shoe. Each second she spends scrutinizing it feels like an eternity, the clock on the wall behind her ticking away precious moments.

Finally, after what must be a full minute, she looks up with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but this invitation has expired."

Say what now?

"Expired?" I frown, the word not computing immediately. "What do you mean expired?"

"It's 12:01 AM," she explains with exaggerated patience. "The invitation was valid until midnight."

"I arrived at 11:59 PM!" I protest, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "You can check with the gate attendant for confirmation."

Her smirk grows more pronounced.

"And yet here we are, at 12:01 AM. Rules are rules."

My fists clench at my sides as I struggle to maintain my composure.

"If you hadn't spent a whole minute reading the invitation like you're the one signing your life away to the government instead of just sitting behind a fancy desk, I would have checked in on time!"

She merely shrugs, sliding the invitation back across the counter with perfectly practiced indifference.

"It's expired. There's nothing I can do about it."

This fucking bitch!

The dismissal in her tone makes my skin crawl.

I recognize this game — it's one I've seen played countless times in my former life.

Find any excuse, no matter how small, to exclude those who don't fit the desired image.

Typical in a place like this…

My mind races as I try to find a solution. The consequences of missing this mandatory meet aren't just inconvenient…they're terrifying. The government's "interrogation" is nothing but a euphemism for something far darker.

It's the best way to hide the levels of rape that occur during the hours they have you captive in a room where any Alpha working can fuck and abuse you so you're reminded of how useless you are in the world.

The thought makes bile rise in my throat, but I force it down.

---