Page 5 of Knot Their Safe Haven
"But what if I don't find my perfect pack."
"No pack is perfect. Not a single one." My smile grows thinking of Knox, Malcolm, Adyani, and especially Alessandro. All flawed, all complicated, all hovering at the edges of my life because I won't let them closer. "But that's the beauty of it, Astraea. That a group of individuals with their various imperfections can come together and love a single person who is just as imperfect as them."
I cradle her face, giving her the maternal touch her mother never provided.
"Like different strings of yarn, you begin to take those first weaving movements. Interlock and entwine, coming together into a unique masterpiece one can't replicate. You learn about each others' strengths and weaknesses and you come to love and admire those traits. All these emotions of anxiety and uncertainty will fade, and in their place will form blossoming emotions of stability and hopefulness."
Listen to yourself, Velvet. Take your own advice for once.
I press my forehead to hers, sharing strength, sharing hope.
"Being an Omega is never an easy journey, but it will be a rewarding one when you've not only embraced the beauty within you, but the amazing strength you can acquire as a whole with your pack at your side."
Even if I'm too scared to embrace my own.
"So until then, keep being your talented Rebel self. Just lead the government on a trail of failed meetups for added measure."
Her groan makes me laugh. "I got another one of those."
"Ah. Same."
"Wait! You still get them?" Her shock is endearing.
"Every quarter. You'd think now that I'm almost forty they would have given up. Before, they enjoy sending you brochures with ticking clocks on them to emphasize that your uterus is going to shit, so bang the closest pack you can find and have a baby pronto for everyone's peace of mind."
As if my uterus is public property. As if my worth is measured in breeding potential.
We joke about the tracking system, about being baby-making machines, but the laughter is armor against the truth—that even with all my power, all my money, all my connections, I'm still just an unclaimed Omega in their eyes.
Worthless after forty. Expired goods.
"You never found a pack right for you?"
"It's not like I never found a pack, my dear. There are plenty who've begged for my commitment, but alas. I never found one who matches my spark."
Liar. You found three who match perfectly. You're just too terrified to let them.
"Do you still have hope you will?"
"He could be right under my nose." I wink, thinking of Knox probably already in the building, preparing for the morning rush. "So until then, I'll continue to enjoy the single Omega life with my daily glass of wine and limited edition clit sucker."
Her mortified expression has me cackling.
"What? Is that not the youngling's way of saying it?"
"It's called a Rose, Velvet. No one is going out there saying 'Let me recharge my clit sucker!'"
"Is that what they call those competitive toy fuckers these days?"
Knox's voice makes us both turn, and there he is—all 6'4" of silver-haired muscle, barely fitting in the doorframe. Tank top straining across his chest, those black shorts sitting low on his hips. Fifty-one and still making my mouth water.
Twenty years, and he still affects me like this.
"No," Astraea answers while Knox abandons the doorframe to enter the room properly.
His eyes lock on mine immediately, that intense grey gaze that sees too much, wants too much, offers too much.
Everything I'm too terrified to take.
