Page 57 of Knot So Sweet
"Sold out." I slide another plate down the pass and grab the next from the window. "Third night running."
"Right." He crosses his arms, tracking a line cook scrambling past. "Tom finished her car."
I pause mid-plate. "Violet's car?"
"Yeah. Liam told her this morning. She's got no reason to stay now."
The words hang heavy between us. I glance through the pass at Violet, still typing away, completely unaware that Garrick's spiraling.
"She's not leaving," I say, plating with more force than necessary.
"How do you know?" His voice cracks slightly. "Car's fixed. She's got money saved. Nothing tying her here except..." Hestops. "Except us. And I can't... I won't be the reason she stays if she doesn't want to."
I set down my knife. Look at him properly. "What are you talking about?"
"Her ex." Garrick's jaw clenches. "He controlled everything. Where she went. What she did. Who she saw. And now I'm standing here wanting to tell her not to leave, wanting to convince her to stay, and all I can think is... what if I'm no better than him?"
"That's not the same thing."
"Isn't it?" His scent spikes with distress. "Wanting her to stay because I want her here? That's just another kind of control, isn't it?"
I follow his gaze to Violet through the pass window. She's not on suppressants, and every alpha in the building is feeling it. Including us. Especially us.
"You ever notice omegas with sad eyes and smart mouths tend to make alphas real dumb?" Garrick mutters.
My knife stutters mid-chop on a red bell pepper. I glance at him. "So this isn't about her car being fixed."
"It's about all of it." He leans against the prep table, arms folded tight. "We agreed. No omegas. Too complicated. Too risky. Remember?"
Yeah. I remember. Three years ago when we formed this pack. Three alphas. No complications. No vulnerabilities. Just solid ground under our feet.
"I remember."
"Then she shows up and it's..." He stops. Struggles. Like even saying it might tear something open.
Garrick doesn't do this. Doesn't talk unless he has to. Doesn't explain. Doesn't linger. But here he is, trying.
So I wait.
"It's different." His voice drops lower. "And I want her to stay. God, I want her to stay. But it has to be her choice. Really her choice. Not because her car's broken or because she needs the work or because I'm..." He gestures helplessly. "Because I'm what? Asking? Begging? That's just pressure. That's just another way of controlling her."
And for Garrick, that's as close to a confession as it gets.
I wipe my hands on my apron and move to the pass. The line's running hot, plates sliding down, timers blaring. Violet's still at her table, oblivious to the effect she's having.
"You're not him," I say carefully. "Wanting someone to stay isn't the same as forcing them."
"How do I know that? How do I know where the line is?" His scent betrays him. Heavy cardamom and frustration bleed into the warm air, layered with something deeper. Fear, maybe. "She's got options now. She can leave. And if she chooses to stay, I need to know it's because she wants to, not because she feels obligated or trapped or..."
"Or because an alpha's pressuring her," I finish quietly.
"Yeah."
His shoulders draw in, body turned just enough toward the pass to keep her in his periphery. Violet's lit up by her screen, all soft edges and glow, like some snapshot moment he's trying too hard not to want but can't stop wanting anyway.
"We agreed no omegas," he repeats. "No complications. No risk of this exact situation."
"And yet here we are."
