Page 24 of Knot Now Knot Ever

“She’s so cute,” I gasped. “Wait, the dog’s vest says it’s a service animal. Is she okay?”

“Now she is. My sister, Bailey-Rose, was born with a heart defect and a genetic abnormality. Not too long ago, she had surgery to repair the major problems with her heart so she doesn’t have to be quite so careful. There are still some issues that Waffles helps with,” Eli answered, his voice full of love and affection.

Flipping to the next picture, I saw his sister with five other men who stared at her adoringly. “This is her with her pack, and I’ve never seen a group of people more in love.”

“Just wait. We’ll give them a run for their money now that we’re finally all together,” I boasted without thinking how it might sound to my bonded Alphas. I quickly reached out to them, trying to find a way to explain what I meant. “Not that I don’t think our family has been lacking in the love department, we just didn’t know there was more love to add to the mix. Wait, I wasn’t trying to say that the number of people changes the amount of love. Everyone knows love isn’t a finite thing, and there is no limit to how much love a person gives or possesses.”

Zachary lifted a finger to his lips, telling me to stop fucking talking. Instantly, my jaw snapped shut, and I took a deep breath, calming the riot of emotions flowing through me.

“Babe, none of us think you love us any less now that two more people are being added to the family,” Tanner assured me. “That’s like asking if I love Zac less because we added you to the mix. You know I love you both with all my heart, and I have no doubt it will be the same with Lyra.”

I felt a little better about the whole thing, but my attention kept drifting back to the locked door where my angel was hiding. “So… about how long do I have to wait for her to feel like she’s had space? Is now enough? I’m gonna go see.”

Before anyone could stop me, I hurried toward her office. We’d all heard her lock the door, so I peeked in the other office. I gathered it was Eli’s and grinned when I saw a second door. I slowly tested the handle, and when it turned easily, I knew I was in like Flynn.

Alone in my office, I paced in front of the window, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Packs didn’t have more than one Omega. That was the rule, one Omega, not two. It was a fundamental fact there were fewer Omegas than any other designation, which is where the formation of packs stemmed from.

Clearly, this was fate having a sense of humor. Oh, she’s the Omega who doesn’t want to be scent-matched? Well, then let’s give her four Alphas and top it off with an extremely rare connection to another Omega. That should be fun. I let out a frustrated growl, raking my hands through my hair.

I was utterly lost and mentally drained with everything that had happened in the past three days. First, I met Eli, smacked my head, made a fool of myself, then kicked the man out of my apartment he owned. Now here I am hiding in my office while a pack I never thought I’d meet was sitting on the other side of that door. God, they must think I’m the rudest person ever for just leaving like I did.

Groaning, I dropped into my chair and covered my face with my hands. The day had been going so well, and all I wanted to do now was crawl into a hole. Wait, what if this is all a dream? Maybe none of this really happened, and I’m unconscious in the hospital, making none of this real.

Did I want this to be fake?

What did it say about me if my subconscious gave me everything I wanted in life that I’d been too scared to even hope for?

I’m fucking pathetic. Even in a dream, I couldn’t choose to be happy. Why would I want that when my bland, colorless life had been filled with the joy of simply existing? You can’t fail when the bare minimum is all you require from yourself and anyone around you. Maybe this wasn’t a dream but a nightmare to torture me for the pointless fucking life I’d been living for thirty years. Much like in the Christmas Carol, I was shown the future of the life I could have, so if I managed to survive whatever fate I’d befallen, I could do better. Of course, it always comes back to that phrase—do better.

The days after my fathers died, Mother was inconsolable. She didn’t leave her nest, alternating between weeping and sleeping for two days. I was eleven and didn’t know how to help my mother or if I even could. When she finally managed to get out of bed, she only left the room to go to the funeral that had been planned by one of my fathers’ secretaries, Julie. She was the closest thing to an aunt that I experienced in my life. Julie took me with her so I could give my input as the funeral was arranged. After all was said and done, the only thing my mother had to say was—they deserved better.

Such was the theme of the next year and a half. Nothing I did was good enough, and I was constantly told to do better so I could live up to the standard my fathers had set in her grief-stricken mind. They’d been perfect. No one would ever love her like they did or take care of her the way they had, so the least I could do was try to be like them. Yet every effort was met with a scoff. To this day, I believe she only kept me around because I looked so much more like them than I did her, and Mother couldn’t bear the thought of losing any more of them.

“Angel, why are you crying?” a soft voice asked as arms wrapped around me. “Shh, it’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. That’s what packs do… we’re there for each other.”

Pulling my hands away from my face, I grabbed Fawn’s soft, pale-blue sweater and buried my face in his chest. He wiggled his body between my legs, holding me even tighter as his head rested on mine. I could hear him humming softly as I tried not to let the past swallow me up. It felt like all the progress I’d made in therapy had vanished into thin air, and I was right back to square one. Part of my emancipation agreement was I had to see a therapist once a week for six months. Only once I started, I never stopped going. I needed to have someone who wasn’t living my life tell me I could get through whatever I was struggling with, much like Fawn was doing right now.

Eventually, I caught my breath as the tears stopped flowing. “God, I’m a wreck,” I muttered, glad my face was hidden.

“Come here. Let me see,” Fawn coaxed, urging me to sit up.

Begrudgingly, I gave in and looked up, thanking the makeup gods I’d learned long ago to always wear waterproof mascara and eyeliner.

“It’s not that bad. You should see me after I have a good cry,” Fawn shared as he wrapped his sweater sleeve around his finger and used it to wipe my cheeks. “I get hella red and blotchy. Once I cried so hard, my eyes got so swollen I had to ice them so I could see.”

“Oh my God, what happened to make you cry like that?” I asked, feeling a twinge of panic at him being so upset.

Fawn’s cheeks blushed, and he bit his lower lip, making him look even more adorable than he already was. “It was right after Tanner and Zachary marked me. I was so fucking happy I burst into tears, which, of course, sent them into a panic because I hadn’t marked them, so they had no idea they were happy tears. They thought they’d misread the situation and bonded with me against my will. Not like we hadn’t been courting for weeks, and I’d begged them since the third date to seal the deal.”

I let out a small laugh, picturing the situation. “Poor guys.”

“That’s life for you, throwing twists and turns when you think you’ve got it figured out,” Fawn said with a sigh as he maneuvered himself to sit on my desk.

A comfortable silence fell between us as we stared at each other. So much had happened at once that I felt like I didn’t really get a chance to fully take him in. Fawn was a beautiful man with fair, perfectly smooth skin, manicured light blond eyebrows that had me jealous, and hazel eyes. They were a blend of amber and rich forest green that revealed a complexity in the man sitting in front of me. Fawn’s curly hair was bleached white and dyed a cotton candy pink, making it appear almost edible. The sides were cut short, leaving the top curls long enough they fell forward and almost were in his eyes. He reached out with his elegant, slender fingers and brushed some hair out of my face.

“Feel free to ask questions. I’m sure you must have some,” Fawn encouraged, appearing so completely relaxed as his feet absently swung back and forth.

“How old are you?”