Page 60 of Knot All is Crystal
My excitement wanes when I see his hands still on my Omega. A growl escapes me as I take a step forward. “Get your hands off of my Omega.”
Crystal’s face turns bright red, and she starts to stutter, spinning around to address the other Alpha, not me! “Dr. Valentine, he’s not – I’m not-“
Dr. Valentine, becauseof coursehe’s a fucking doctor when I’m just a DJ, chuckles. “Another one? So soon? Aren’t you lucky, Crystal?” He pats her arm gently. “I just realizedmy Omega,” he emphasizes, clearly for my benefit, “wanted me to come home at lunch. You’ll forgive me if I run, won’t you? I’m sure your Alpha can drop you off at the Clinic.”
Crystal starts to sputter, attempting to follow the doctor out. I don’t know why she won’t even talk to me, but it’s starting to hurt.
“Dr. Valentine!” she hisses.
The doctor stops his exit and turns around, cradling her hands in his. “I know this is scary. I know you’ve had a lot of change. But you deserve happiness, Crystal. I haven’t pried, and I won’t, about a lot of the strangeness I’ve noticed, but you have to remember to take care of yourself. This is part of that.”
Her body slumps like she’s given up the fight, and she nods. “Okay,” she whispers. It’s weak, and honestly, it doesn’t feel like a win.
It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it? Getting my Omega to spend time with me?
The doctor leaves, and Crystal stares at me with wide, fearful eyes.
“Do you like gyros or falafel?” I blurt.
She wrinkles her forehead. “I… like the falafel here. Why?”
Taking her hand in mine—oh my God, her hand is so soft and warm—I pull her towards the table where Paul is watching us with a furrowed brow.
“Paul, you’re leaving now.” He sputters in protest, but I turn my back to him, facing her fully. “Paul is leaving. Please sit down.”
My friend stands up slowly, shaking his head, but there is a flush of amusement in his eyes. “You owe me,” he hisses in my ear as he passes me. “Nice to meet you, I guess,” he tells Crystal. She gives a weak wave.
Crystal lowers herself into the seat I vacated, and I take Paul’s. I can’t stop staring at her. She’s even prettier than I remembered. Her colorful hair is loose, with a slight wave as it barely brushes over her shoulders. She has a pair of wide-legged trousers that are so flowy they resemble a skirt and a pale yellow blouse.
Why was she with a doctor? She’s wearing office clothes. She doesn’t work in an office.
Was she on adate? He said his Omega, but maybe he wants two?
I can feel myself spiraling, feel my breathing pick up, as the fear of losing her to another Alpha kicks up in my chest. It aches like a wound left untended.
I can’t see anything. Why has my vision gone spotty?
“Breathe, Alpha,” comes a whisper, joined by warm hands on my cheeks. “Breathe.”
Cotton candy. Sweetness, pure sugar. Childhood joy and sticky fingers.
Omega.
I spin in my chair, wrapping my arms around her waist. I press my cheek against her stomach, trying to burrow into her so I never have to smell anything but her again.
“You’re having a panic attack, Alpha,” she says softly, stroking my messy hair. “Just take some deep breaths.”
I do, counting to five on the inhale and five on the exhale. I repeat this pattern three times, then pull back enough to look up at her.
Her expression is a little pinched, her eyes crinkled with worry.
For me? Is that worry for me?
Eventually, I disentangle myself, allowing her to move to the other side of the table and retake her seat.
“Hi.” My voice is a little shaky. “I’m glad to see you again.”
“Hi, Maverick.” She grabs the straw paper I left on the table and twists it in her hands. “Look, about Prism…”
