Page 22 of Knot Their Omega
She abandons me and grabs her Kindle as if it would run from her clutches.
I don’t say goodbye because she won’t hear me.
The moment my bestie is reading the first sentence of any book, she’s lost in those written worlds that unravel into her mind like real-life events. I sometimes think she should become an author and write about her life and how she’s somehow survived the chaos that ensued from cultural traditions, parental expectations, and her dreams of freedom.
Opening the door, I look back at Kamari as she’s lying on the couch, Kindle in grasp, kicking her legs up and down absentmindedly. Just seeing the joy and peace in her expression makes me wish nothing but blessings and opportunities for her.
She deserves to be loved, just like any of us Omegas.
We’re not perfect, but we’re more than deserving of being loved and adored by a pack that wants to understand us.
That yearn to protect and allow us to flourish into the individuals we’re destined to become.
Closing the door as quietly as I can, I look at the cameras as the light turns on—a golden star blinking to life, confirming it notices a person standing before the door.
“You’re some top-notch security, huh,” I talk to it as if it can listen. “Should give you a name like Starry. Your owner is some rich motherfucker billionaire.”
I’ve gone mad.
“Let me go before all the Omega think my hermit ass has finally lost her marbles,” I quietly speak but smile. “Protect my bestie and pups for me. I’m off to see a bunch of cocky Alphas and hope that sexy giant from the gym is there.”
Giving it a wink, I giggle at my stupidity and lock the door.
Turning around, my smile of confidence grows as I tap into the persona I only flaunt for events like these.
Time to share a glimpse of Blair Vesper with these judgmental cocky fuckers.
The Power Of The Stars Align
~ASTRAEA~
“Damn, who the hell is she?”
“I don’t fucking know, but she’s hot for an Omega.”
“She ain’t all that to me.”
“No one meets your standards. Just admit you’re pissed because you got rejected by that other Omega!”
“Shut the fuck up.”
The deep chuckles of men in suits at one of the twenty-plus tables encourage me to smirk while sipping on my drink. I really shouldn’t be drinking, but after the second drink and three sets of packs I’ve gone through, I couldn’t care less.
I knew this was going to be another flop in the books.
This Elite Party at Sacred Divine is indeed meeting the quota of Rich Cocky Alpha packs. Not to say they aren’t handsome, well-off financially, and carry plenty of assets to make any Omega go gaga in the excitement of being chosen by a set that can ensure they’re never on the streets.
But God, they’re so full of themselves.
The last three pack sessions were nothing but being talked “at.” The best way of defining it is having three to four men boastand speak of all their accolades, careers, business success, and what a privilege it would be to be their Omega, but having no say on what your purpose in their dynamic is.
Yes, I’m the lovely Omega they get to fuck during Heats and have their knot stuck in for minutes if not hours. I’m the one who will be forced to have plenty of children for this pack and hope they come out only as Alphas since all three packs were very disdained by the idea of giving birth to an Omega.
God forbid they bring a female into the world.
The crazier part is they don’t know enough of our kind to realize there are male Omegas as well.
With my purpose only revolving around being a baby-making oven who talks once in a new moon and is good for fucking on the sideline, there was no importance on what I do for a living, my hobbies or talents, and what future I see with their pack.