Page 41 of Their Knotty Pack
"Having second thoughts, sunshine?" he drawls, raising a brow, and his laid back attitude pisses me off so much, I nearly snarl.
But then, his voice pulls a memory from the back of my mind. His face…an image of this damn alpha, hair pushed back and motorcycle helmet in hand as he waves some half-assed apology to me flashes in my mind.
It'sthatguy.
The same one who had no business looking that good on a bike while simultaneously trying to run me over.
"Oh my gods!" I probably sound crazy, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Stepping around Miles, I stomp over to the burly alpha. "It's you! You almost hit me with your fucking motorcycle, you psycho! What the hell are you doing here?"
This close I can make out his individual scent of spearmint and lavender. It stirs something in me that I promptly shove deep, deep down.
It makes me glad Lanie kept me from confronting the asshole like I wanted to that night. One whiff of his scent, and I would have beenallover him.
All heads whip towards us, and Miles grabs my arm. "What do you mean he almost hit you with his motorcycle?" he asks sharply.
The asshole just rolls his eyes. "Come on, you were wasted and walked right into the road, it wasnotmy fault."
"When was this?" Mr. All-American asks, looking between us.
"Christmas Eve," I snap, "gods, thank fuck I didn't go into that bar an hour later or I might've left with you."
Mr. All-American, still standing on the opposite side of the bed, looks over at us with wide eyes. I pointedly ignore his lean but muscular body, and the way his bicep flexes under his tattoo—a bar of music with notes lined up across it. I especially ignore the one I can now pick out as a beta, his golden tan skin not lickable in the slightest.
Completely ignore. I don't care that these are my scent matches. I have Miles, and he's the only one I need.
"Not that it matters now," the beta mutters, and everyone goes silent…even Miles.
…Not thatwhatmatters now? His words obviously carry some meaning that I'm not privy to, and I hate it. Is he saying it doesn't matter that I didn't scent him then because I'm scenting them all now?
"What does he mean?" My voice is shaky again as I turn to Miles. "What does he mean it doesn't matter? Just because we're true-scent-matched doesn't mean we have to bond—"
"Too bad you already did that, sunshine." The white-haired alpha shrugs, and my eyes catch on the bond mark on his shoulder,one I didn't notice before. It's slightly silvery, but still red, and it doesn't look that much newer than Miles'…
"What the fuck?!" One hand flies to my mouth while the other blindly searches my neck and shoulders.That'swhy my damn shoulder hurts. "Youbitme?" My fingers trace the marks of his teeth, a perfect row of indents on my shoulder opposite of where Miles bit my neck. Why is Miles not outraged by this? Why is everyone acting like this is no big deal?
Why did Miles let him bite me? More importantly, why did he let me bite himback?
"I did," the alpha in front of me says slowly, "but only because you bit me first and sent me into a rut despite the blockers they gave us."
My eyes shut tight as I take a deep breath. Miles doesn't refute him, and he's been here the whole time. Suddenly, the whole thing comes back.
My omega perking up at the mens' scents as they entered the room, the way Icrawledacross the bed andlaunchedmyself at the burly alpha before growling that he wasmine—
"Ohno," my hands raise to cover my face, "no, no no…"
"Oh,yes," the alpha says, that damn smirk still pulling at his lips as he reaches his hand out like he wants a handshake, "It's nice to meet you,mate, I'm Kieran."
My hand flies past his, and my palm makes contact with his face. The loud crack of my slap echoes in the air.
"Oh, shit," the all-American looking alpha says, as the burly alpha—Kieran—doesn't break eye contact with me as his hand stays exactly where it is, his eyes darkening slightly. Miles pulls me back into his chest, his arm banding around my waist.
"You're not mymate," I snap. "I only have one mate, and that's Miles."
I pretend to not notice the split-second flash of hurt in his eyes. What did he expect? That I would behappyabout this?
"Let's just take a second here," Miles says, his voice in my ear, "why don't we take a deep breath and talk about this."
