Page 14 of Chain Me Knot

Do not speak out. Do not upset anyone.

Every muscle in my body clenches, wondering what punishment the doctor deems suits this crime, but Dr. Chen’s face merely flickers with pity. I drop my gaze because pity is the last thing I need.

Pity won’t help me escape my biology.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, though I'm not sure what I'm apologizing for. For being difficult? For being omega? For existing?

“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing that happened to you was your fault,” he says.

He’s wrong. Everything that's happened to me has been my fault. Because I presented as omega. Because I survived when my parents didn't. Because I keep breathing when it would be easier to stop. My fingers brush over the fresh IV tape.

“Please leave this one in. The nurses are getting tired of replacing them.” The doctor attempts a small smile, probably trying to lighten the mood, but humor is a foreign language I've forgotten how to understand.

My eyes drift to the window again, to the world beyond that’s both too close and impossibly far. Freedom just behind glass I can't break.

“That's a five-story drop.” Dr. Chen follows my gaze. “And you've survived too much to end it that way. You're safe here.”

Safe. The word tastes like ash in my mouth. I would be safe, maybe, if it weren't for those delectable scents seeping under the door that make my nipples bead under the blue gown and goosebumps break out like hives. How can they affect me so much? Pack Carmichael did nothing for me. With them, I shriveled up in fear. Nothing like the alphas who picked me up off that basement floor make me feel.

“Are they...” My voice cracks. “Are they still here?”

“Yes.” Dr. Chen's expression turns serious after he throws a glance over his shoulder at the closed door. “You might not want to hear this, but you need to. As your scent-matches, they're actually your greatest protection right now.”

Scent-matches?

“What...” I swallow hard, hating how weak my voice sounds. “What are scent-matches?”

Dr. Chen's eyebrows rise, then furrow. “You don't know about scent-matches?”

I shake my head, my hands scrunching in the pristine sheets. I’ve never heard of scent-matches before. The only thing Haven taught was how to mindlessly obey an alpha. How to present. How to clamp your mouth shut even when you hate every unwanted touch. How to be a willing hole and take a knot no matter if you want it or not. That was my education about being omega.

His face darkens. He pulls up a chair and sits, his expression turning soft. “Then you should know a scent match is about much more than simply liking someone’s fragrance. It's about biological compatibility on a visceral level. Your scent isn't just appealing—it's actively communicating with your cells, your omega instincts. It's your body's way of recognizing an alpha who perfectly complements you genetically, hormonally, physically…in every way that matters. When you find your scent match, your biology aligns effortlessly, instinctively knowing it’s found someone who can truly fulfill and balance your deepest needs.”

I…never knew something like that could exist. That a bond could ever be that way between an alpha and omega. It sounds like a fairytale, and probably is.

“My alphas said I was their mate.” I never believed them, and they hated when I never reacted to them the way they thought I should. I might be naive about mates and bonds, but I’m not stupid. Anything Pack Carmichael said to me was a way to control me. My fingertips trail over the hated bite marks marring my neck.

“The alphas who held you in their basement? You were never their mate. They only gave you one-way bonds created without your consent. Am I correct?” I wisely say nothing, and the doctor goes on. “They're nothing like true scent match bonds. Those partial bonds are weaker, biologically speaking. A true scent match will override any partial bond you have, my dear.”

My head spins with this new information and nausea rises in my throat. More alphas withmorecontrol over me? Is that what Asher is to me now? The rush of emotions I felt from him didn’t say that but what would I know? My stomach heaves at the thought. I've had enough of alphas controlling me, owning me, using me. The last thing I want is another set of alphas having an even more powerful hold over me.

My hand clenches over my chest where alpha hatred simmers and hisses. The newest alpha to claim me is quiet. As though he’s dialed down his emotions, but no. That can’t be true. Alphas don’t care how loud they are to me.

“What...” I swallow hard, hating how small my voice sounds. “What do you mean,override?”

If there’s even the slightest possibility of freeing myself from Pack Carmichael, I owe it to myself to hear them out, no matter how unbelievable it seems.

“A true scent match is so powerful that it has a chance to break the partial bonds your current alphas forced on you,” Dr. Chen says.

Hope flares in my chest, bright and dangerous. The first real possibility of freedom from the poison Pack Carmichael left in my mind. To be free of their emotions, their cruelty, their constant presence in my head...

“However, it would require you to accept the scent match bonds. To claim them in return.”

Hope dies as quickly as it sparked. Trade one set of bonds for another?

Chain myself to more alphas?

No. The price is too high. I'd rather live with the partial bonds, with the toxic emotions flooding me than willingly submit to more claiming bites.