Page 3 of Knot Their Girl
“I told you,” I said as she took the chair next to mine. The two chairs sat on one side of a large glass table in the corner of the office. The outer walls of the office were made of windows, and being in a corner office of a skyscraper, it had quite the view. We were up so high you could see all around. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I wanted to,” she said with a shrug. “I thought it might make you feel better to have another omega here when you meet them.”
Darius had apparently gathered a few alphas who I could then choose from, alphas he’d supposedly trust with Mercedes’s life. We’d see. I wouldn’t believe it until they were here in front of me and I felt safe enough that they weren’t going to tackle me to the ground and sink their teeth into my scent gland and claim me themselves.
Yeah, being an omega was no fun.
I gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” Those words felt strange on my tongue, it wasn’t often I thanked anyone. Some might call me spoiled, and those people would be right. You were not a Whittenhall if you weren’t spoiled.
Plus, it was still odd to me to have someone who I considered a friend. I’d never really been close to any other omegas my age growing up. If you were from a founding family, you could never truly trust that anyone was genuine around you; you learned young most people were simply in it for the money, especially when you were a female omega.
Us omegas from founding families usually came with a hefty inheritance. It sometimes led to some bizarre matches.
Feeling the need to break the silence, I asked her, “How are things going at N.O.A.?”
“Delilah found two new teachers, people she trusts. Two women, a beta and an older female alpha.”
I couldn’t help it, my eyebrows lifted when she said that. Women were either omegas or betas—the latter being more common. That wasn’t to say women couldn’t be alphas; it was just more rare, kind of like how it was rare for a male to be an omega.
Rare, but it happened every now and then.
Must’ve been nice, to be your own person, to not be what was basically a second-hand citizen, I thought bleakly. If I could choose what I was, of course I would rather be an alpha than an omega. I didn’t want someone to take care of me. I didn’t need that feeling of security, and that made me different than a lot of omegas. Even different from Mercedes herself. She might argue, but at the heart of it, she needed to find a pack that would make her feel safe, something that asshole Jay never gave her.
No, that one only took. He took and took until there was nothing left for her to give.
Mercedes then started telling me about the new teachers Delilah found, and I tried to listen, but I ended up zoning out quite a bit, so I gave her the head-nods and noncommittal sounds, enough to make her think I was listening.
Truthfully, my mind was elsewhere. Of course it was. I was here to interview for what would basically be an alpha bodyguard—someone who would be under my authority and not my parents’. It was only a matter of time until they tried to force a match on me. I could only push it off for so long.
So, in a sad, pathetic kind of way, I guessed I did need an alpha, but not to feel safe. More like to actuallybesafe. Iwouldn’t turn into some sniveling wimp begging for their knot or a bite on my neck. No, this would be purely a transactional thing. This alpha would be my intimidation and keep any other hungry alphas away from me.
Whoever he was, he better have some damn good self-control, otherwise this thing would never work.
A knock on the door interrupted Mercedes, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like the first guy is ready. Are you? Should I give Darius the signal to let him in?” Darius was just outside, her über alpha lover. I made it clear I wanted to do the interviewing myself, without his presence.
I needed to know if they could handle themselves around me without a bonded alpha in view.
I nodded once. “Tell him to let the first guy in.”
Mercedes grabbed her phone and typed out a message to her mate, and within the next few seconds, the first alpha strolled in, instantly filling the entire room with his scent. Thank God for those injections; I resisted the natural urge to straighten my back and act like I was on my best behavior.
It didn’t matter who this guy was. He just needed to look and act the part.
The alpha that sat across from me must’ve been near thirty or so, with short black hair that was a little spiky on top. His eyes were a pretty blue, and his face was hard and chiseled in the way most alphas’ were. He wore a simple black t-shirt, revealing the muscles on his arms—and all of the tattoos on them.
Lots and lots of tattoos. Good thing I wasn’t a tattoo girl.
“Hello,” I was the first one to speak. “I’m Raeka, and you are…”
“Rourke,” he was quick to say. “Rourke Cunningham.” A fine name. It suited him. “I hear you’re looking for an alpha to keep his greasy mitts off you while also making sure every other alpha does the same.” Straight to the point. I liked him already.
“You heard right,” I said. “So tell me, do you think you could be that alpha, or should I send you out right now and end this interview?”
“Spunky,” he remarked with a dry smile. “I have the feeling whoever gets the job will have their hands full.” He wasn’t the first alpha to comment on my attitude, and I doubted he would be the last. As much as I hated to admit it, I did fall into the stereotypical omega mold when it came to my spunk.
I asked Rourke a couple more questions, and by the end of the interview, I was feeling okay about him. Not super great, but honestly, I didn’t know that I’d feel great about any alpha I talked to here. I might have held some long-term resentment when it came to alphas and how dependent us omegas had to be on them.
When it was time to say goodbye to him, I didn’t get up and shake his hand. I just gave him a simple nod of my head.
