Page 68 of Knot Mine

My mother never hesitated to put us in our places when we were children and it felt very much like that, as Rom sat on one sofa and Zale and I sat on the other. Zale places his hand on my thigh, shooting Millie an apologetic look as he wipes a napkin over the blood on my cheek.

A few moments later my parents joined us, my mother sitting in the armchair with my father standing by her side. He squeezes my shoulder with a tight smile as he walks past to take his place.

“I was expecting to visit with my son after his heat and a distressing phone call a few days ago. Not my daughter throwing a tantrum, while her boyfriend seems to be caught up in the middle. Now, what on earth is going on here?” My mother’s words are hard and sharp as she looks between us pointedly.

My father clears his throat, and while he’s more placid and calmer than my mother, he is terrifying in his own way. “Someone had better explain.”

Romily leans back against the cushions, crossing her arms with a grunt as she starts crying again. “Shiloh stole my boyfriend. And now they’re bonded.”

My parents can’t help the way their eyes widen as they both turn to stare at Zale.

I rub my face, feeling like shit. The heat drained me, and the guilt weighed heavy on my heart but he was my Fated Mate. He was always meant to be mine.

“It wasn't my plan to steal him, it just happened.”

She snorts, before narrowing her eyes and glaring at me. “You have no friends and no love life so you just decided to take mine! And the worst part? You made yourself like this, Shiloh.”

We sit opposite one another almost like mirror images, the similarities still there, but an ugliness marring everything. Rom and I haven’t been close for years, but she’s never been thiscruel. I never had to worry about what she would say to me or about me.

She waves her hand dismissively, continuing, her words laced with bitterness. “You just shrunk in on yourself. Started dressing differently. Taking the suppressants. Hiding away.”

My father inhales sharply, “Suppressants? Shiloh?”

I can’t bring myself to look at him, instead focusing on my hands as I pick at the skin around my nails. “I didn’t want to be an omega at school. I wanted some control over my life.”

The warm hand on my thigh tightens, and Zale sends waves of reassurance down our bond. I like that.

I like being connected to him on another level.

“I did what you wanted. I helped you hide. I ignored you until you were invisible. Got everyone else to do the same.” Romilly is pointing at me now, the anger bubbling back up as her voice gets louder and louder. “Except you weren’t invisible. Because I always knew where you were. Lingering on the edges like a ghost haunting me.”

We may be twins but right now, I don’t recognize her.

“Romilly! That’s your brother.” My mother is looking at my sister with a frown, her lips pursed together as my father reaches out and takes her hand.

It was strange. After all these years of knowing she didn’t want me around, hearing her say it. Hearing her say that she did it for me…I never asked for that.

My chest aches because a part of me understands the need to be separate. We were siblings, but we weren’t the same. We weren’t a package deal. I was not her and she was not me.

Her anger drains away, leaving her to whisper “Zale always knew too. And…I was jealous.”

“I don’t understand,” I glance at Zale but his brows have pulled together and I can feel his unease leaking into the bond.

“He thought my scent was yours.” Romilly swallows, before looking up at me tearfully. “He was only ever interested in me, because he was looking for you.”

I blink, not sure I’ve heard her right. “What?”

We all sit for a few minutes in silence. My parents are watching her, clearly trying not to take sides while we air out all the dirty laundry. My father comforts my mother with little touches and glances.

“The party with the one-night stand. The reason everyone thinks you’re some big slut…” She laughs bitterly with a small shrug, “That was Zale.”

She’s almost mirroring me in the way she’s playing with her nails anxiously. Playing on our parents' empathy. “I found you together, and Zale was drunk so I took him home. Took care of him.”

Avoiding my parents' gaze, I stare down at where my hand is now entwined with Zale’s. I hate that they were hearing all of this about me. About how everyone at school viewed me as some reckless beta who slept around.

Her words sink in slowly, and it takes me a moment to wrap my head around what I’m hearing.

She left me, drunk, vulnerable and alone at a party?

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