Page 1 of Her Knotty Alphas

Twelve Years Ago

“Okay, one more, and then I have to go.” I giggle as Charlie grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer, kissing me breathless.

It’s not necessarily comfortable, leaning over the center console of his car like this, but the soft feel of his lips combined with his recently revealed alpha scent—coconut and sandalwood—has me feeling a little more giddy than usual. These alpha pheromones are no joke. Not to mention I’m currently running on an adrenaline high from sneaking out of my bedroom window at one in the morning to see him.

“I hate having to sneak around like this,” he murmurs into my lips. “We should just tell Kieren we’re together. He only got so aggressive about guys being interested in you because I riled him up about it.” An unattractive snort leaves me, and he chuckles, kissing my nose. "Kieran trusts me. He knows I'd never do anything to hurt you."

“Yeah, he trusts you because he thinks you look at me the same way he does. With 'brotherly love'."

Charlie grimaces, pulling back slightly as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his warm, deep bronze skin illuminated only by the streetlights. “Yeah…you may have a point.”

“Plus the factthat you’re older than me—”

“Only by two years,” he interjects with a pointed look.

“Still,” I roll my eyes, turning my face to look out the window, “you’re technically an adult now, and I still have two years to go. Add in the fact that you just designated as an alpha…” My lip wobbles involuntarily, emotions roiling in my stomach at the very idea that we won’t—

He moves his hand to grip my chin, turning my face towards him. “Hey. None of that, mags.”

Mags. Like a magpie, the bird famous for collecting shiny objects. It’s not lost on me that he’s referring to my very omega-like tendency right now.

“What?” I murmur, not meeting his eyes.

“Youknowwhat. You’regoingto reveal as an omega. I know it.”

“And if I don’t?” I ask, the choking sound in my voice betraying my emotions. Logically, I know that I have until I turn eighteen to still be considered in the “normal” range of my designation revealing, but right now it feels like an axe hanging over my head. Both my stepsisters revealed a few months ago, and while Rue is a year older than me, Cat is the same age. Their older sister, who had already moved out by the time Mom and Paul got married, designated at sixteen. Mom keeps telling me it’s genetics, and that she didn’t reveal until two days after she turned eighteen, but I’m still nervous.

“It won’t matter,” he says fiercely, his icy blue eyes trained on me. “Omega, beta, or hell, even alpha, you’re mine, Hannah Beckham. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Blinking away my tears, I reach my hand up to cup the side of his face, and he leans into the touch. “I love you.” My voice isbarely a whisper, and he presses a kiss to the inside of my palm before answering.

“I love you too.”

Chapter 1

Hannah

"Ms. Beckham! We hope you enjoyed your stay here at the Starbook City Heat Clinic. Do you have a moment for a quick survey?"

Time? I guess. The desire to complete a damn survey after an unfulfilling four-day heat? Not really.

The beta behind the checkout desk flashes a saccharine sweet smile at me. Ugh. She probably gets like…points or something if she gets me to take the survey.

Sighing, I run a hand over my face. "Do you still offer the ten percent discount on my next stay if I participate?” I’m feeling the post-heat drophard. Something that unpacked omegas can start to experience if they go through too many heat cycles…unsatisfied. Omegas benefit greatly from heat after-care, especially with the help of pheromones from scent-sympathetic alphas.

“Of course,” she says, pulling out a clipboard and writing my name at the top of the form she has. “First, on a scale of one to ten, how satisfied with this heat do you feel?”

“Probably…a three?” I shrug.

Her brow furrows as she frowns, and she scribbles something on her board. “Okay…and, on a scale of one to ten, how likely are you to come back again?”

“A ten, I have no choice.” I grimace. What other option is there for someone whose kidneys flat out reject heat suppressants? The damn “Alpha-Helper” app, where I invite an unknown alpha into my home without even knowing what they smell like? No thank you.It’s not like I haven’t tried to find a pack either, it’s just everyone seems to find me lacking.

I can’t say I disagree.

This poor beta has no idea what to do with me, so she ignores my little side comment, and asks her next question. “How did you find the selection of bedding and nesting items? On a scale of—”

“One to ten?” I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. The girl's just doing her job, but it doesn’t change that despite the fact I was railed for four days straight with semi-adequate alpha cock and knots, I’m feeling…grumpy. “An eight.”

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