Page 21 of Knot Their Boo
“Great, I’ll pick you up Saturday night, six o’clock?”
“See you then.”
I blow the wisp of my hair out of my face that escaped my messy bun while my eyes follow the omega out. There is only so much my omega brain can handle for the day, and the men who occupy my thoughts are at the center of it.
Looking back at the empty display I had been stocking before disaster hit, I’m struck with inspiration for a new scent. Dark woods with spiced cider and a leather coat. Pulling out my notebook, I make notes while pushing my internal debates aside.
That's a problem for tomorrow’s Sable.
TARON
I’m not a stalker. I’m not. I just like to watch people. Well, not all people. Specific people. Okay, two people. I like watching two people. Two omegas.
“I can feel your eyes on me, you freak,” my target hisses, searching the crowded bar for me. Honeyed hay, and cinnamon spikes in the air, sharp with desire, and hits my system like a drug. “This has become a habit of yours, alpha.”
What would he taste like?What would he taste like with Sable’s cum dripping off his cock?
“You came here, little omega,” I growl, sticking to the shadows, the thrill of our little game of cat and mouse spiking my blood with heat and adrenaline.
“Best bar in town,” Rhian says, spinning quicker than I expect from him, his hand shooting out to grip my shirt. He’s getting better at this. “Looks like I caught the big bad wolf. What’s my prize, alpha?” His voice is an alluring siren call, and I almost break.
The last time I gave in, my heart was shattered. So I step back, and his hand falls. I don’t miss the look of pain in his eyes. The sting of rejection in his scent.
“Right,” Rhian sighs heavily, glancing around the busy bar. “She’s not the villain you make her out to be in your mind, you know.”
His words land like an ice pick through my heart. “Sure feels like she is,” I grunt, catching myself before I can rub my fist over my chest and shove my hands into my pockets.
“I’m going to court her,” Rhian says, so quietly I barely hear him over the sound of the music. Those five little words derail all rational thoughts, and I stare at him with wide eyes.
“Court her?” I repeat, the words rattling around in my head, but I can’t pin them down. Can’t make them make sense.
“If you could just…let go of your past, you could be happy too, Taron,” Rhian sighs, shaking his head with pity in his eyes and pain in his scent.
“Let go?” I shake my head, memories I’ve buried deep come rushing to the surface.
Useless fucking idiot. Dirty little fuck. Not good for anything, are you? Worthless… Unwanted… Not good enough.
But by the time I shove them back in their box labeled ‘Evil Mother’, Rhian is walking away, leaving me alone with the demons I can’t outrun.
I’m not surprised to find myself outside Sable’s little shop a few minutes later. This used to happen a lot when we were teens. But it hasn’t happened once since the day she left. Not until the night she returned to town. Colter’s scent lingers in the air. Guess no one is immune to the pretty Little Ghost.
I watch, transfixed by her beauty, as she steps out onto the widow's walk. Her white dress from earlier today dances in the night air, and her scent crashes into me.
There’s a desperate loneliness to it that takes me off guard. My instincts flare to life, and the urge to rush up there and hold her tries to consume me.
I could take her pain away. Give her everything she needs…
No. I shake my head. I wasn’t enough for her before, so why would I think I’m worth anything to her now?
But then I see her tears as they glisten in the moonlight. I hear the whimpers that break free from her lips, as she wraps her arms around herself, sadness radiating off of her so powerfully that I stagger. The sight steals my breath.
She’s in pain. Soul-deep pain. Something that touches her so deeply that it taints her light with darkness. Such beautiful darkness.
My Little Ghost.
I’m already broken. Unfixable.
I can’t possibly break further.
