Page 78 of Knot What She Seems
If I can enter Brylee’s room so easily, then anyone could. It would be so easy to take out the princess.
Suddenly, all I can envision is a Noth fucker standing over my omega, holding a knife above her heart, prepared to snuff her life out once and for all?—
I barrel-roll through the window, landing in a crouch in the middle of her surprisingly spacious dorm. I half expect Brylee to jerk upright in bed and scream, but nothing happens.
My obsession isn’t here.
Panic thrums through me, siphoning the air from my lungs.
Where is she?
Dozens of scenarios pop to the forefront of my mind.
Brylee, in the hallway, bleeding out from a hole in her chest.
Brylee, crying for help as she’s carried out of Darling over the shoulder of a Noth.
Brylee, stuffed in a closet, dead.
My thoughts spiral, and I can feel myself descending into a dark abyss I can’t hope to escape from.
Think, Kylian. Think.
I force myself to take a deep, calming breath and then study the room with the trained eye of a warrior, not the panicked one of an alpha missing his mate.
The first thing I note is that her backpack is gone.
Which means that she either left of her own volition or never returned after classes.
Good. That’s good.
Or at least, that should be good.
So why does my stomach move in riotous swirls?
I tiptoe toward her closet and fling it open. There’s nothing out of the ordinary here, though I do note a few empty hangers. Are those clothes being washed or did she take them with her? Why would she need a change of clothes? I sift through the dresses and shirts before deciding there’s nothing of importance here. With a sigh, I shut the closet door and move toward her dresser, opening the top drawer.
All of the heat in my body instantly migrates to my cock, which stands at attention.
“God, you are turning into a full-blown pervert,” I chastise myself, staring at the lacy underwear. But god help me, I can’t help but imagine Brylee in these various pieces. She would look fucking divine. Scowling, I focus on my cock, wagging a finger in disapproval. “You’re being such an asshole right now, you know that? We’re trying to find our omega, not pop a stiffy.”
My cock, of course, doesn’t listen.
Bastard.
I absently grab a pair of red lace panties with a tiny bow in the center. What would they look like on her? I close my eyes and envision them cupping her tight ass.
God, I want to touch myself, but I know how inappropriate that would be. Brylee may be my obsession, but I’m certainly not hers. For all I know, she’s in the arms of another alpha at this exact moment.
The thought instantly sours my mood, and a wave of white-hot jealousy crashes through me. I tighten my grip on the panties.
I’ll kill anyone who thinks they can touch my omega. I’ll pluck their eyeballs out, shove them up their assholes, and then use a machete to?—
“Who the fuck are you?” an unfamiliar voice demands, sounding aghast.
I spin, a lifetime of training kicking into gear. I instinctively throw the object I’m holding at the intruder, momentarily forgetting that I’m not clutching a blade but a pair of underwear.
The red panties hit the brown-haired omega straight in the forehead and then bounce to the floor at her feet.
