Page 23 of Knot in Their Wildest Dreams: Part 1

“I understand that, Uncle. But this isn’t just about optics. It’s about setting a precedent. If we -”

“If we start pandering to every idealistic notion of fairness, we won’t be setting precedents. We’ll be setting ourselves up for failure,” he interrupted, his voice understanding but stern. “Harringday exists to generate wealth, not to shoulder the burdens of societal change. I appreciate your vision, but you know as well as I do the board isn’t as forward thinking.”

My grip on the phone tightened. I wondered when I was ever going to have true control of my family’s company. The board existed to protect the wealth of Harringday, but at the expense of keeping things as they always were. “Things are changing, uncle. You know that. We have to get them to start thinking about how to move with the times. I’m already an anomaly, and I’ve taken Harringday to new heights as the CEO. Surely they have to see that.” I said, heat flaring in my chest. I’d tried speaking to the board members individually, with mixed success. A few of them saw my vision and supported me. But I could tell some of them were just playing along, and I was sure they wanted me to eventually find a pack and give up my role.

“I know, Celeste. I’m working on them. It takes time. But let’s see this as a win.” He said, and I tried to see the bright side. “And how are things with the pack?” He asked, and I had to scramble to formulate a response.

“The same as usual. I’ve already completed one date with them. I’ll get through this, day by day.” I confirmed, and he hummed a response.

“Yes, I see that you have been the talk of the news cycle. And your upcoming interview, have you prepared with the PR team to go over everything?” He asked.

“Of course. Twice.” I responded. Pack Lockwood wanted us to do an interview to answer some of the burning questions about our ‘courtship.’ I’d done plenty of interviews before, but this one would be different. I’d be actively lying about what we were doing, and I’d have to sell it as real.

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.” My uncle said before ending the call.

I set the phone down and thought back to a simpler time, letting my thoughts drift to when I was a child. My mother was an omega, like me. My father was an alpha, but his packmates had died before I was born. The Eastern Province was hard even for people in our class. But my family always made me feel loved and wanted.

I remember him coming home from work, lifting me up and swinging me around in the air while I laughed. He always told me he saw the future in me. It was main reason I wanted to keep the company in the family - it was the only part of them I had left. The company that had been in my family for generations would stay with me, and hopefully be handed down to my future children as well.

I forced the thoughts away as my stomach let out a low, impatient grumble. I needed a snack, and I’d run out of my stash in my room. I'd just have to brace the main kitchen and hope I didn’t run into any of the irresistible alphas while I was out there.

I opened the door and quietly walked down the hallway until I was near the main house living room. I peeked out, and seeing no one, I went to the cabinet and grabbed a packet of cookies. When I turned to rush back to my room, I nearly smacked right into a wall of ripped chest.

It was Dante.

He stood there in the hallway, dripping from a shower, a towel slung low around his hips and absolutely nothing else. His body was everything an alpha's should be: hard, cut with muscle, and dangerous.

His scowl was sharp enough to cut, and the sheerhatredradiating off him almost made me stumble back. But it wasn’t his glare that left me breathless. It was his scent - a deep smoked oud laced with black pepper, hot and heady in the cool air between us. It hit me like a punch to the chest.

And then there were the tattoos.

Dark, twisting patterns inked over his ribs and across his chest, the designs both brutal and strangely elegant. I squinted at the patterns. For a second, a strange flicker of recognition sparked in my brain, but it was gone before I could grasp it.

Dante caught me staring, his mouth twisted into a sneer. He yanked a shirt off the back of the couch and pulled it over his head in one aggressive motion, the muscles in his arms flexing as the fabric stretched tight across his chest. Without a word, he stalked toward me, and when our shoulders brushed, he shoved just hard enough to make it clear it wasn’t an accident.

Reflex snapped through me. I reached out and shoved him right back, palm pressing against the solid wall of his chest. He caught my wrist easily, holding me there with a grip that was firm and infuriatingly careful.

"Pathetic," he sneered, his voice low and raw. "A savage, just like I thought." Dante said, with a voice that scraped over my skin like velvet over broken glass. His eyes were molten, wicked.

"Funny. You’re the one half-naked and growling like a feral dog." I said, my voice sounding far more confident than I felt. Dante dropped my hand, shaking his head as if I was just a nuisance.

“Go on Celeste. Scurry back to your room and hide, where you belong.” He dismissed me as he headed toward his room. I was left there, holding the snack I’d forgotten about while I looked at him walk away.

Heat flared through me so sharp and sudden it made me breathless. I hated him. I hated him.

But God, I wanted to know what it would feel like if he actually touched me for real.

Chapter 16

Dante

I awoke with pain in my stomach, the same one that had been plaguing me for years. It was like the slightest nausea, the faint feeling that the world was off its axis, and no one seemed to care. I’d had this feeling ever since the tragedy at Arkala. It happened most mornings, but it was getting worse since Celeste had moved in. Sometimes, it woke me up at night. Even though she had no way of physically harming me, I was constantly on guard and alert that an enemy was nearby. I was counting down the seconds until the contract was over and she would be gone from our house.

If all went well, she’d be leaving in cuffs and then locked up so that I’d never have to see her again. Then maybe I’d feel normal.

The first date we had with her had been difficult to get through, but by all other metrics it was a success. The public really believed that we were courting, and that we weren’t the evil pack we’d been made out to be. And that was only step one.

But nothing was everthateasy. My stomach pain was gnawing at me worse than usual. I knew why, deep down - it was my pack. They couldn’t hide the truth of that night from me, not when I could feel it through the bonds. They wanted Celeste, even if it was only a biological desire.

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