Page 52 of Knot Their Omega

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Page 52 of Knot Their Omega

I’m trying to envision who his pack mates are.

Kai is some lethal fucker.

Kenji takes matters into his own hands.

Then there’s this Nate dude who seems to be the ringleader… or was it since Icarus is covering for him?

“Alec, we’re not canceling the tour. Can you even grasp what you’re saying?” Icarus ends up getting out of bed and pacing the small space.That means this shit is serious. “This tour is everything to Nate. You’ve seen firsthand how hard he worked these last two years especially. Despite everything that happened, he remained committed to every performance, paid and unpaid. This tour is his moment for America to acknowledge his talent. This is his career, and he has no fucking backup line. He ain’t like me or Kenji and Kai with side hustles that ensure we’re financially secure. This is everything. All he has left. You want him going back to his parents’ doorstep with fucking nothing?”

I frown at the scenario because it seems dire. Whoever this Nate guy is, he’s sacrificed a lot to reach famous enough to have his own tour. If he has no backup career to fall on if things go south, it’s a dangerous gamble to play.

Most artists who fail and have no backup plans end up killing themselves…

Whoever this Nate is, I don’t think he deserves such an end. I’ve also never seen an artist of this generation come back from a failed tour.

The embarrassment that comes from failure is forever remembered on social media.

Doesn’t matter how many years go by. The internet thrives on reminding you of your flaws versus your accomplishments.

“Alec…” Icarus is getting more agitated by the second with whatever Alec’s response is. “Fuck… so what is this supposed to be? A culling? Penalizing us Alphas who don’t pick an Omega that yearns for us to prosper in this society? Instead, we should pick the first one we meet whose intentions are clearing our bank accounts. How is this movement supposed to instill positive change when the government is now forcing packs to have an Omega to do anything in the industry? This is madness.”

Kamari hadn’t said anything of the sort yesterday, so this has to be some newly implemented rule with the Knot Their Omega movement.

“So, there’s literally nothing I can do? If I don’t find an Omega ASAP for our pack, we’re essentially fucked,” he summarizes. “Tour canceled. Nate’s career ruined. He can jump off a cliff, and no one will give a shit.”

I cringe at the last part of the sentence.

Icarus notices, which makes him sigh and walk over to me. He lightly pats my head before running his hands through my hair, as if I’m the one having my life fall apart because of this new movement.

“How much time do we have, Alec?” Icarus whispers, and I can hear the depth of dread in his voice. “And don’t bullshit me. Just tell me the honest truth.”

There seems to be a long silence, but I hear the answer.

Twenty-four hours.

Lifting my eyes so I can look up into his concerned gaze, he has no choice but to stare back into mine, the two of us standing in silence as the truth of the matter lingers in the air.

The truth that I potentially have the power to stop this from becoming a catastrophe.

“Alec,” Icarus begins as his eyes continue to bore into mine. “I’ll call you back.”

He hangs up the phone, the device dropping somewhere as if it’s not an expensive device. We’re too far drawn into the intense energy pulsating between us to care. The Omega in me is begging to comfort him. To steal away all the worry and fear Icarus is desperately trying to hide but failing miserably.

I can only wonder what I look like to him, but that thought is gone as he opens his mouth.

“Make a deal with me,” he whispers.

“Is it really a deal or blackmail?” I offer quietly.

Neither of us has to lower our voices, yet we do. As if whatever we agree upon in these early hours needs to be a secret between us.

A now or never moment…

“A deal worth fighting for,” he offers. “To the outside, let them think it’s blackmail. Or fake. Or whatever the fuck gets them off our backs, but…” He struggles to admit the next part, his Adam’s Apple moving up and down as if he needed to swallow a lump in his throat.

“I need your help, Astraea.”

Whether he was going to ask for my help or not, I was going to help him if my Omega status would ensure he didn’t get stuck with some random bitch who just wants to take advantage of the situation, but it finally dawns on me what this could mean.




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