Page 77 of Knot in Bloom
“Stay,” I whisper, even though I know he can’t. Even though I have a dozen vendor calls to make and arrangements to finalize.
“If I stay, I’ll never let you leave this bed.” His voice drops to that gravelly tone that makes my core clench with fresh want. “And you have important things to do today.”
He’s right, but my omega side doesn’t care about responsibilities when her alpha is looking at her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted. The possessive satisfaction in his scent tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“You’re being very reasonable for someone who knotted me senseless last night,” I breathe as his hands slide lower.
“Someone has to be.” But his touch grows bolder, more demanding. “Doesn’t mean I can’t properly appreciate what’s mine before I go.”
What’s mine.The casual claim sends heat racing through me that has nothing to do with his clever fingers. Being claimed, beingwantedlike this—it’s everything I never knew I needed.
When he finally pulls away to get dressed, I watch from bed feeling thoroughly debauched and completely cherished. The temporary mark he left on my throat throbs with each heartbeat, a reminder of how close he came to giving me something permanent.
“I love you,” he says simply, pressing one last kiss to my forehead before heading for the door.
“I love you too.”
After he leaves, I lie in bed surrounded by the lingering warmth of his cedar scent and try to process everything that’s changed. Three months ago I couldn’t get a date. Yesterday I was a frazzled omega trying to prove her independence. This morning I’m someone who’s been loved thoroughly by an alpha who treats her like she’s precious.
The difference between this and my college relationship hits me like a physical blow. Ryan used to take what he wanted, then roll over and go to sleep like I was just a convenient warm body. Levi worshipped me with his hands and mouth, made sure Icame apart multiple times before taking his own pleasure, then held me like I was something worth treasuring.
The comparison makes my chest tight with a mixture of gratitude and old pain. I spent two years thinking that was what intimacy looked like—being used rather than cherished. No wonder I fought so hard against needing anyone.
But this morning, with my body still humming from Levi’s attention and his scent clinging to everything, I can’t imagine going back to that lonely independence. Not when being cared for feels this good.
My phone buzzes. Text from Reid:Good morning. Thought I’d bring lunch today—we could eat while reviewing the final vendor schedules. Unless you have other plans?
Other plans. Like processing the fact that I’m falling in love with three different men who somehow all want the same thing. Like figuring out how to navigate whatever this is becoming when my suppressants are barely working anymore.
I text back:Lunch sounds perfect. See you around noon.
The shower helps clear my head, though I catch myself touching the mark on my throat more than once. In the mirror, it’s obvious what happened—my lips are still swollen from Levi’s kisses, and there’s a satisfied glow to my skin that wasn’t there yesterday.
I look like an omega who’s been thoroughly claimed. And despite everything I thought I knew about myself, I love it.
Downstairs in the shop, I try to focus on festival preparations. Final counts, delivery schedules, the thousand small details that will make or break this weekend’s festival. But my mind keeps drifting back to the way Levi’s hands felt on my skin, the reverent way he whispered my name when he was buried inside me.
The bell chimes at exactly noon, and Reid walks in carrying bags from what looks like an expensive Pine Valley restaurant.He’s dressed in his usual immaculate style—tailored slacks and a button-down that probably costs more than my weekly grocery budget—but there’s something different about his energy today. More relaxed, like he’s finally settling into his place here.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he says, setting the bags on my counter. “I may have gotten carried away ordering.”
Then he goes completely still, his nostrils flaring as he catches the scent clinging to my clothes. Cedar and rain and the unmistakable musk of alpha satisfaction. His pupils dilate, and I watch his bergamot cologne shift to something richer, more possessive.
“Good morning?” he asks, voice carefully neutral.
Heat floods my cheeks. “Very good morning.”
“I’m glad.” And he sounds like he means it, which shouldn’t surprise me anymore but still does. Three weeks ago I thought men only wanted exclusive claims. Now I have an alpha responding to another alpha’s scent on me with approval rather than jealousy.
“How did Tuesday’s business meeting go?” I ask as we unpack containers of what looks like gourmet Italian food. “With the flowers, I forgot to ask?”
His hand stills for just a moment. “Let’s focus on today,” he says, serving pasta that smells incredible onto real plates he somehow acquired. “I actually have news,” he continues, relief evident in his voice at the topic change. “I’ve taken extended time off from my current project. Want to focus on helping you with the festival full-time through next week.”
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth. “Reid, you don’t have to?—”
“I want to.” His voice carries that quiet authority I’m learning to recognize. “This matters to you, which means it matters to me. My other work can wait.”
The casual way he rearranges his entire professional life around my needs makes my pulse flutter. But underneath the gratitude, there’s a growing awareness that’s been building all morning.
