Page 53 of Knot Their Omega

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Page 53 of Knot Their Omega

“This Nate dude, Kai… Kenji and you are all in one pack,” I conclude. “Meaning… they would have no choice but to haveme as their Omega temporarily because of this movement happening,” I summarize.

He nods his head.

“I can explain in detail, but… every second I waste puts Nate’s tour in jeopardy.” He’s truly fearful for his pack mate. “He’s my client, yes, but at the end of the day, he’s my best friend. A pack brother I trust with my life. He’s not a simple person. He’s probably the most complex out of all of us, but he doesn’t deserve this ending. Not when he worked so fucking hard to get to this moment of glory.”

Icarus, who was filled with that cocky confidence, looks like a man grasping for the last set of strings that will save him from doom.

I don’t like that at all.

“I’ll keep your secret safe, and you be our Omega… until you don’t want to anymore.” He doesn’t like how it sounds, but I know he’s just trying to problem-solve this grave situation. “I can give the impression this is out of convenience, so it leaves your options open. If you don’t like our pack, once the tour is wrapped up, you can walk out. We won’t hold you back, but we need you for this tour, Astraea.” He swallows again and leans in enough to press his forehead against mine.

“I need your help, Little Omega.”

To see him submit in such a way makes me lift to my tiptoes so I can wrap my arms around his massive frame. He easily scoops me up into his grasp, allowing me to melt in his warmth as we share a comforting hug that helps ease our anxieties.

I don’t know what is running through his head, but I’ve seen enough of Icarus tonight to conclude that this tour is important to him and his pack.

That his friendship with Nate is worth going to any extent to ensure it’s protected by any means.

“Okay,” I whisper against his neck as I hug him tighter. “A deal worth fighting for. Let’s do it, Alpha.”

Playing With Fire

~KENJI~

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Ah. The sweet sound of misery.

The vocal hymn of frustration ignites my thrilling movement, the drumsticks in my grasp moving swiftly in repetition. The loud concoction of music pounds through the echoing space of my penthouse, allowing me to escape the spiraling madness swirling in the depths of my mind and in a place of tranquility.

Closing my eyes, I get lost in this sensation that gives me the perfect escape.

To the world, I’m just the noisy, rich drummer of a new band, playing a set of wild nonsense at six in the morning, but for me, this silences the chaos.

The endless thoughts and disappointments that nag me at any chance they get.

Some would say music is my coping mechanism, but this is the best therapy in the market for someone as borderline psychotic as me. Better than the stacks of pills that took years to ween off of or the shock therapy I used to deal with that was annoyingly painful.

This keeps me out of strait jackets and among the society that enjoys judging me from left to right.

Stops me from obsessing over my and my pack’s constant reminder that we’re Omega-less.

No matter how many years I’ve prayed and craved, we’re enduring another year without a woman to nestle with. A beauty who’s made to be pampered and lusted over by us dominant cocky Alphas.

A Queen I’ve yearned to worship for as long as I can remember.

In reality shows and the world of romance, they make it seem so easy. So vibrant and unexpected. The scenario they always present is meeting your Omega when you least expect it, yet here I am, waiting fucking years and still sleeping in my bed alone.

Not every day… but the comfort from an Alpha is a temporary warmth that only makes those paralyzing ruts a bit more tolerable.

“???.”

Hearing my name in Japanese stalls the pounding symphony of drums and cymbals. My eyes not only open but my gaze darts just as fast as one of my drumsticks that barely gets caught by the culprit who manages to protect himself from my instinct wrath.

“You know, you’re going to do that shit to someone who doesn’t have swift instincts like me, and you’ll be in trouble.”

I pout my lips but also realize how out of breath I am. It’s enough for me to search for my water bottle, only to realize I finished it a while ago.




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