Page 51 of Knotting else Matters

She shuddered, her laughter a sweet, breathless sound, her voice a fierce, wicked whisper. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you.” I buried my face in the curve of her neck, my hands slipping around her, holding her against me, feeling her wild, frantic heartbeat beneath my fingertips. “And I’ll never stop.”

And gods, I felt it—the fierce, quiet warmth of her happiness, her twisted, wild thoughts, that sweet, perfect ache of knowing she was mine.

Our breaths tangled, slow and heavy, filling the warm, hazy air of the room. Her body was still pressed beneath me, locked in place, the tight, perfect heat of her wrapped around my knot, and I could feel it—her pulse, wild but steady, the soft, shuddering aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing through her. But beneath that, beneath the heat and the tangled sheets and the sweet, desperate gasps, I felt something else.

Her wolf.

It wasn’t loud, wasn’t fierce. It was quiet, calm, a soft, satisfied warmth that curled through the fragile bond between us like a slow, soothing breeze. A quiet, contented presence that mirrored the heavy, drowsy satisfaction of my own wolf.

Fuck. How was this even possible?We barely knew each other—what, a week? Maybe a little longer. She was chaos, wild and impossible, and I was… I was supposed to be better than this. Smarter. More in control. But gods, I couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop craving her. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was insane.

My fingers traced slow, lazy circles against the small of her back, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of her breathing, the warmth of her skin pressed against mine. She muttered something, a faint, sleepy curse, and nestled closer, her body a soft, perfect weight against me.

But then I smelled it.

The faint, crisp scent of fresh spring rain. Cool, clean, a quiet, soothing freshness that seemed to cut through the thick, heated air of the room. Not the lingering damp of the shower, not the warm, musky scent of sweat and pleasure. Something else.

Her.

I went still, my breath catching, my senses sharpening. That scent—I’d caught it before. Faint, subtle, drifting around her like a whisper. I’d thought I was imagining it, a trick of the mind, some lingering memory of a spring storm. But it wasn’t. It was her.

Her scent.

My sweet, wild, impossible chaos was a Zeta. A Zeta with a scent—a scent so faint, so subtle that even I hadn’t recognized it at first. A scent that lingered just beneath the surface, hidden, masked.

My scent match.

The realization crashed over me like a wave, fierce and electric, twisting through the wild, desperate hunger in my chest. I tightened my grip on her, my fingers pressing against the curve of her back, my face buried in the damp, tangled mess of her dark hair.

Gods. How was I supposed to tell her? How was I supposed to explain that the thing she’d always been told she lacked—the thing that made her an outcast, a disappointment in her mother’s eyes—was the very thing that had drawn me to her in the first place?

She hated pack rules. Hated hierarchy. Hated everything about the world I was born to rule. And this? This would be the cruelest, most twisted joke the gods could play.

Because it didn’t matter that she was a Zeta. Didn’t matter that she’d laughed in my face, challenged me, fought me at every turn. I didn’t want her because of her rank or her scent. I wanted her because she was Olivia. Fierce. Defiant. Unstoppable. The woman who hadn’t even recognized me as an Alpha when we first met, who’d mistaken me for a bodyguard, who’d sneered at my title and mocked my world without a hint of fear.

She stirred against me, her fingers flexing against my chest, her soft, sleepy mumble fading into a quiet, contented sigh.

I swallowed, a faint, bitter laugh catching in my throat. Gods, I was in trouble.

Because I wasn’t just addicted to her. I was falling for her. And I had no idea how to tell her.

Her fingers traced lazy, absent circles against my chest, her cheek pressed against the curve of my shoulder, her breathing slow and steady. But then she stirred, her voice a soft, sleepy murmur.

“What?”

My heart twisted, a fierce, desperate rush of warmth crashing through me. Did she feel it too? The wild, electric tension pulsing beneath the quiet, sated calm?

But then she shifted, turning just enough to peer up at me, a faint, teasing smile curling at her lips. “How much longer is this going to last? The whole… knot thing?”

I forced a low, lazy chuckle, my fingers trailing slow, soothing circles along her damp, warm back. “Feeling impatient already? You didn’t seem to mind a few minutes ago.”

She laughed, a soft, wicked sound, her teeth grazing the curve of my shoulder. “I’m just curious. I didn’t exactly plan on getting stuck to a possessive Alpha when I woke up this morning.”

“Possessive?” I leaned back just enough to catch her gaze, letting the faintest hint of a wicked smile tug at my lips. “That’s putting it mildly. You begged for it.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “Maybe I did.”

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