Page 88 of Knot What She Seems
But if there’s one thing I know about Teddie, it’s that he’s a fighter. He won’t allow a disease to keep him down if he can help it.
Even though he might not get a choice in the matter.
Harper would love to meet Teddie. I think the two of them would get along well. Caran would fawn over Harper the way he once did with me before he realized that I’ll never be a doll for him to dress up.
My lips curl up in the corners microscopically.
Telling Harper the truth feels like a weight has been lifted from my chest. I didn’t think it would be so…freeing.
Surprisingly, she allowed me to tell her the entire story without interrupting me once. Only after I was done did she pepper me with questions.
“How long has this been going on?”
“How have your scent matches not realized the truth yet?”
“Colter knows?!? Oh em geeee. Did he try to kiss you? Do you want him to?”
“Eros was attacked? Was anyone hurt?”
“What do you mean there’s going to be a ball in your honor—I mean Teddie’s honor? How are you going to be in two places at once? Ohhh. Idea! I could wear a blonde wig and—damn. That won’t work with your scent matches, will it? We can brainstorm tomorrow.”
Harper is a hurricane contained in a one-hundred-pound woman, but I’ve never been happier to have her as a friend. And that’s what she is—a friend. I’ve denied it for far too long, but somewhere along the way, the omega has weaseled her way past my defenses and has found a place for herself in my heart.
I lazily reach for my phone on my nightstand and flick it on, surprised to see it’s only eight in the morning. Before I attended Darling, I would sleep in until noon if I was able. My training at both schools must’ve impacted me more than I realized.
No new messages.
Huh. Kind of strange that Teddie hasn’t texted me, especially if he heard about the attack.
And I don’t know why I expected a message from Colter?—
Something taps on my bedroom window, and every muscle in my body locks together. The old Brylee would’ve screamed and maybe tossed her phone in that direction impulsively, but the new one has been training daily to protect herself.
Even though my pulse thrashes like a caged animal, I force myself to reach for the heaviest object closest to me—which happens to be a textbook.
The blinds are drawn shut, but I can just make out a broad silhouette on the other side. Someone must be on the branch outside my window. A Noth, looking to attack the princess? Or?—
I remember what Harper told me last night, and my shoulders slump. I release a heavy sigh as I pull back the curtains, unsurprised to see Kylian balancing precariously on the branch just outside my window, a bag in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of coffee in the other.
How the fuck did he hold those while scaling a tree?
And why is he even here?
I can’t deny the fact that my heart speeds up as I drop the textbook, then unlatch the window and force it open.
I cock one eyebrow at him, and a devious smile scrawls itself across his face.
“You know, when my roommate told me you snuck inside my dorm from the tree outside my room, I thought she was exaggerating,” I say, placing my arms on the window sill and attempting to appear nonchalant.
I totally didn’t think she was exaggerating, knowing what I do about Kylian, but “Brylee” has only met this man a few times in her entire life. I can’t be too familiar with him.
“It would be much easier if I could go through the front door, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t let me in, would you?” He continues to grin at me as he balances there, looking comically out of place. The man may not be as massive as Colter, but he’s still a giant compared to me and most omegas, and he appears as if he’s seconds away from shattering the branch he’s perched on.
“You’d be right.” I absently tap my fingers against the sill. “I don’t make a habit of letting strange alphas into my dorm room.”
His smile is dazzling, and prickles of heat race across my skin. I hate my visceral reaction to him. I don’t want to be admiring the way the rising sun creates gold flecks in his eyes. I don’t want to notice the flexing of his biceps as he grips the brown paper bag. I don’t want to stare at his T-shirt clinging to his chest in a way I’m almost jealous of.
Maybe I can’t stop myself from lusting after him. Fine. Whatever. But I refuse to act on it.
