Page 4 of Knot To Be
At the intermission, Vero and I get up to stretch our legs. My phone is in my micro bag slung across my chest so I won’t lose it, and I walk with Vero so we can get lost in the shadows.
I’m slightly tipsy from the alcohol we drank during the play, and I grin at her as her eyes darken with desire.
As I hoped, she presses me against a tree trunk that’s heavy with purple blossoms, and kisses me until we’re sharing air between us. My fingers ghost up her bare back until I can pull the pin from her hair, loving the way it tumbles around her shoulders.
Vero’s nostrils flare with appreciation as I slick, and she moans as she kisses down my throat. As I expected, she presented as an alpha at eighteen. Her scent also became undeniable, and where it was once one that was familiar, it’s now one I want to roll around in desperately.
She smells like honeysuckle and pepper, which fits her personality perfectly as she gets older. Vero can be sweet or spicy, depending on the situation, which is also why I’m trying to keep her out of the house as much as possible. She’s angry with my father as she learns more about my role in the family, and that he uses me with plans to make me both a broodmare and an executioner.
I suppose I already am a killer, and have been for a long while. The broodmare part is merely something that hasn’t come to pass.
I haven’t had my first heat yet which is probably for the best. I eat whatever is served at the house without a fuss, and have no idea what the vitamins are that my father places beside my plate each morning. They could be anything, I just haven’t cared enough to ask.
My body isn’t really mine, even though my soul screams inside of me.
“Hey,” Vero growls. “Don’t do that. Stay with me, Rosa.”
“I’m here,” I say weakly with a small smile. We only have a short amount of time before we have to be back at the house. Knowing my father, he may have another appearance for me to make, which means I’ll have to get dressed up.
The sundresses I love to wear won’t be good enough for the men he wants me to rub elbows with. A part of me wonders if he may be trying to see if any of these alphas he has me meeting are my scent match.
It’s too bad I’ve already met mine. I’m not interested in any alpha other than Vero, and I’ve never been attracted to the parade of men I’ve met.
“You’re not,” she says, sighing. “Every day, it feels as if you’re leaving me a bit more. I’m not dumb, Rosa. What is it you’re not telling me?”
“So much,” I sigh, flipping out positions so quickly, she gasps. “I’m not the typical omega, Vero.”
“And?” she asks, ignoring the fact that I pinned her to the tree.
“I fucking kill people, Vero,” I growl.
“I know that,” she shrugs. “I made peace with you killing my mother almost right after it happened, baby. Do you want a cookie?”
“Oh my god!” I stomp my sandaled foot, making her giggle.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” she urges me. “Why are you so sad? It never goes away, Rosa. It seems to cling to every part of you now. Fuck, I can even smell it on you. I know you almost better than I do myself. Sometimes…I hear you crying in the bathroom when I sneak into your room to talk to you.”
“You can’t smell sadness,” I whisper.
“The fuck I can't!”
I think I’m a bad influence. Vero never cursed until she met me. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t indulge at all until she turned eighteen, and then it began to permeate her vocabulary more and more.
“You smell like salt when you’re sad,” Vero sighs. “Lately, you smell like roses and salt. I can even taste it when I kiss you, so instead of fresh berries, I can taste the salt too. You can’t hide from me.”
“Things are… bad,” I say, pressing against her body. She’s taller than I am by five inches, but the muscle in my body rivalshers. The mornings spent sparring and shooting keeps my body toned.
I don’t know why my father keeps this up when I’m simply going to be someone’s broodmare very soon.
“You’re shaking.” The hiss makes me flinch, and I swallow hard as I shrug.
“Arranged marriages don’t always happen as a courtship affair organized by nosy mothers,” I breathe. “Sometimes, they’re arranged to create powerful alliances for those in the mafia.”
Vero freezes, the elephant in the room finally out in the open. As she said, she’s not stupid, but I don’t think I’ve ever really called a spade a spade. I typically call the mafia “the family.”
“Shit.” The expletive is whispered, and I nod. I couldn’t have said it any better myself. “This explains so much. I just thought your dad was really scary and some kind of criminal.”
“I mean, both of these things are true. Every day, I have to remind myself it wouldn’t be better if he killed me in a blind rage, but it’s getting harder to believe that.”
