Page 3 of Her Knotty Alphas

Chuckling and shaking my head, I hop into my car and start the drive home. To be honest, freeing up the money that I had been planning on spending at the heat clinic will make my next three months a hell of a lot easier. Maybe I can buy a new nesting item or two, and put the rest into savings.

Something about Cady's words don't sit right with me though. What does she mean that she feels useless in this friendship?It's only been four months since she packed up and came out as the Knotty Omega to the entire world. If I was in her position, I wouldn't even be texting. I'd be soaking up all that scent-matched goodness.

Okay. So I'm alittlejealous. But no more than what's perfectly acceptable when your best friend, who never wanted what you wanted…gets what you wanted. And, I'm happy for her. She was so miserable before, even if she'd never admit it.

It's not her fault that there's something so fundamentally wrong with me that I've been rejected bytwenty-threedifferent packs. Cady thinks that none of them ever worked out because I've found them lacking…because that's what I told her. How can I admit to her that I'm so broken that nobody wants me? None of them could give me a reason either. They just "didn't feel it".

Bullshit.

It's like I'm cursed or something. Ever since Charlie…I shake my head. I can't think about Charlie right now. The wound, even though it's been twelve years, still feels like it's fresh. I really thought he was it for me.

My ringing phone jolts me out of my potential fall into self-pity, but once I look at the caller-ID, I almost wish I had it on silent. Why the hell is Cat calling me? Hitting ignore, I drop my phone into the cup holder and focus on the drive.

Or I try to. My eyes keep darting to my phone in the cupholder like it might gain sentience and attack me. Cat's voice keeps echoing in my head, a dreaded reminder fromthatnight.

"I want you to stay away from Charlie. I'll make you regret it if you don't."

I haven't heard from Cat in years. Not even when Nana passed two months ago. Not a word from her, Rue, or Birdie. Birdie is less surprising, considering we're stepsisters by law only—she had already moved out of her dad's house by the time our parents got married.

I've seen my step-sisters one time since I moved to Starbrook City to help Nana, and it was a few months after I came here. Mom and Paul I've seen a couple of times over the years, but you would think that Nana's biological grandchildren would make more of an effort to come see her. But nope. She was stuck with me, her heartbroken step-granddaughter who moved to a different state to escape from her problems.

At least she treated my brother and I just like her real grandkids, despite the fact that my mom didn't marry Paul until I was twelve. I think that's part of the reason why my stepsisters iced me out. Not that we were particularly close to begin with.

Now that I think about it, Cat's probably calling to rub her inheritance in my face, thinking I didn't get anything. There's no way I'm going to tell her that Nana left me almost half a million dollars though. I guess she was a lot more well off than I thought, if that's how much she leftme, someone she's not even related to.

The lawyer had reached out a few months ago to let me know a rough amount, considering they're still liquidating all her assets. Nana had been mated to four alphas who died in a car crash fifteen years ago, and they were rich as hell, apparently. I'm going to assume that I got like…ten percent. Whatever she left me must be a drop in the bucket compared to my step sisters, Mom, and Paul.

Maybe I'll open up my own hair salon. Or maybe I'll retire and live out the rest of my days eating ice cream in my nest.

Okay, yeah, definitely the post-heat drop talking.

Finally pulling into my parking spot at my apartment, I pick up my phone to place a grocery order because there's no way the food in my fridge will still be good. Pointedly ignoring the voicemail notification from Cat, I order my groceries, then balk at the wait time. Two hours.

After eating nothing but protein shakes and special omega-specific nutrition bars for the last two days has my stomach demanding more sustenance.

Welp. I guess I'm having Chinese for dinner.

Chapter 2

Austin

One…two…three drops of food coloring ought to do it.

Mixin' the dye in with my big bowl of buttercream frosting, I watch with satisfaction as the frosting turns from a spotless white to a vibrant, rosy-pink hue.

"Hey Noah?" I call out, spooning the mixture into my piping bag.

"What's up?" My brother asks from his spot at the kitchen table, where he's typing away, doing gods knows what for hisboss and the owner of Lone Star Security, Titus Mendez. His lack of Southern accent isn't the only thing that indicates we aren't biologically related.

"Can you shoot me a quick text—just say '3 drops of food colorin'?"

"Ummm…sure?" He glances at me over his laptop, his shoulder length black hair hanging in his eyes a little, then grabs his phone and sends me the text.

"Thanks," I grin as I start frosting the cupcakes, "these are a darn-near perfect rosy shade of pink."

"What are those for?" he asks, turning his attention back to his computer.

"Titus' party tonight." I admit, my cheeks heating, and I know that if Noah looked over right now, he'd see just how much I'm blushing. The curse of the ginger, Mama says. "I reckon Hannah'll be there…"

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