Page 50 of Knot Their Arrangement

I know exactly which scene made her stop – wrote it carefully, crafted each word to elicit precisely the kind of reaction she's having. The fact that it's working so effectively is both gratifying and intriguing.

Perhaps I should tell her who really wrote it.

But no…that revelation can wait.

For now, I'm content to watch this story unfold naturally, to see how she navigates this world she's stumbled into. Between Damon's intensity and my observation, she's handling herself remarkably well.

Though I suspect the real test will come when she meets the rest of our pack.

"The point of sex scenes written correctly is to have physical and emotional reactions on those reading," Damon observes, his voice carrying that particular tone he uses when making a point that serves multiple purposes.

His eyes find mine across the table, a silent communication passing between us.

We both know exactly why that scene affected her so strongly – I wrote it specifically to provoke such reactions. The careful build-up of tension, the precise pacing, the deliberately chosen words...all crafted to elicit exactly the response our little Omega is displaying.

"The author is probably doing a good fucking job if it's turning you on," he continues, that sinful smirk playing at his lips as his attention returns to Kamari's flushed face.

I watch as she tries to wiggle in her seat, no doubt attempting to ease the arousal the scene sparked.

Even through the yards of fabric that make up her saree, I can tell she's pressing her thighs together, seeking relief she won't find in such a public setting.

The idea of her being wet with slick does things to me I’d rather not admit.

"It's still weird..." she protests weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And it isn't the place for a nineteen-year-old to get all horny or whatever," she adds, turning her head to the side with adorably pouted lips.

Nineteen.

The confirmation of her age makes something in my chest tighten. So young, yet carrying burdens that would break those twice her age.

Her next words only emphasize this disparity.

"Aren't you guys like...I don't know...worried to have a minor in these parts?"

Damon merely shrugs, his fingers still weaving through her hair – a gesture she's finally noticed but seems disinclined to stop.

A server appears silently at his elbow, placing a crystal tumbler of whiskey before him with practiced efficiency before vanishing like a ghost.

I watch as he swirls the amber liquid, the movement deliberate and hypnotic. Kamari's eyes follow the motion, seemingly transfixed by the play of light through the crystal and liquor.

"Age in the realms of Alphas, Omegas, and Betas shouldn't matter much," he finally says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who's given this considerable thought. "Yes, age gaps are inevitable, especially with the ratio between Alphas and Omegas being so wide these days, but as long as it's not predatory and there's a form of respect, it's fine."

The look that crosses Kamari's face is fascinating – like she's just witnessed someone solve an impossible mathematical equation. Her eyes widen slightly, lips parting in surprise as she processes his words.

"Why do you seem so surprised by those words?" I ask, genuinely curious about her reaction.

A huff of frustration escapes her, the sound carrying years of built-up resentment.

"Well, my husband…or well, ex-supposed-to-be husband I left at the altar with his pack for obvious miscommunication and very potent differences…would argue with such viewpoints."

"Give me an example," Damon prompts, his interest clearly piqued by this glimpse into her past.

The request seems to unlock something in her. She straightens in her seat, that spark of defiance returning to her eyes as words begin pouring out of her.

"Maharaja Adhiraj Vikram Singh," she practically spits the name, each syllable dripping with disdain. "Big shot Alpha from one of India's most 'prestigious' business families. He and his pack of entitled bastards think they own everything and everyone just because they have some royal lineage and more money than sense."

The venom in her voice when speaking his name tells volumes about the trauma she's experienced.

I make careful note of it – both for potential future reference and because something about her tone suggests there's far more to this story than a simple case of arranged marriage gone wrong.

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