Page 4 of Knot As It Seems

“I’m Moon. What’s your name?”

“My name isget me the fuck in there so I can feed her.”

His eyes snap to the door, then he gives me sad eyes like I’m actually going to fall for his shit. “You know Winslow’s already gone, right? Did no one tell you? And why would they? She kept you from us long enough.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I am not talking about Winslow. She can fucking rot. I’m talking about the better version of her that’s locked in this house right now, wasting away, because you assholes did something. I know you did.”

He opens his mouth to speak, then his eyes widen and I wish I got some satisfaction from teaching him something, but we’re still standing on the godsdamn porch.

“There’s…someone else in there? How do you know?”

I give up trying to reason with the ass. I don’t care if I have to throw up every single organ in my body as long as it gains me entrance.

I pound on that door, ignoring the overwhelming waves of dizziness and malaise it sends through me, pounding until I bleed, and then I pound that blood into the door, and miraculously, there’s a faint pop that grants me access.

I don’t stop to question what did it exactly, I need to findher.

I tear through the house that feels like it’s already dead, aiming for where I think she is. I’m doing calculations in my head, trying to get myself to the correct room, but Winslow’s house is full of confusing fucking hallways and rooms that don’t make any sense, windows in strange places, and furniture that serves no purpose.

I can smell her. Decaying wisteria, rotting berries, and desperation so pungent that I fall to my knees and crawl the rest of the way, using all my new senses to get me to her.

She almost had me fooled by the table and bench, but my alpha knows better. He senses her where I fail, and I claw at that bench until I find the catch, tugging her ankles towards me as gently as possible.

I stop breathing entirely as I look upon her properly, her black hair all tangled and matted, greasy and unkempt, pallid complexion with eyes almost entirely brown when I lift her eyelids, instead of the vibrant red they should be. Her lips seem to hold a natural shade close to her hair, and everything about her is so fucking perfect, even in the state she’s in, that I forgive everything Winslow ever did to me right then and there. Maybe she didn’t know I’d need this creature the way I do, but she brought me here.

I can’t tell if this piece of perfection is even breathing, but I cut into my wrist with my elongated fangs, not giving a fuck about the mess it makes. Rich, life-giving blood sprays her, painting her delicate neck and chest, staining the lacy, bridal style gown she’s got on.

“Come on, omega, drink for me.Please,”I sob as I wedge my wrist between her lips, massaging her throat gentlywith my other hand to try and get her to swallow. “I’m here. You’re not alone anymore. You hear me? I don’t know how, but I’m going to take care of you. We’re going to get you better, get you strong. And you can teach me how to be the alpha you need. You just have to drink and open those pretty eyes.”

Blood starts to drip out the side of her pillowy lips, but I wipe it up and tuck it back into her mouth, continuing with my massage until her chest rises under me and her tongue darts out to lick my skin, teeth clamping down on my limb as her wild eyes flash open.

She doesn’t look startled, she simply looks up at me as if she’s been waiting for me to show up and give her nutrients, like she knew I’d make it in time.

“What. The.Fuck.”

I snarl at the asshole alpha as he interrupts us, ready to tear him to shreds for startling my omega. Already her scent was sweetening, but at the announcement of our very unwanted guest, she’s right back to being rancid.

She doesn’t like him, that much is obvious. That means he needs to go.

Five

Pull in, put the supplies in the drop box, and leave. Watch the cameras for movement, from my bike. Prove Clement wrong.

That’s what I was supposed to do.

A feral, newly turned alpha vampire defending his mate is not at all what I expected, and nothing is adding up.

When I follow him into the house, mildly impressed he figured out how to get through the wards, I look around for signs that every single one of us was wrong; that this houseisn’tempty, that it’s housing something far more than any of us bargained for.

It’s even more stale than it was a few days ago when we were here though, and the old perfume of floral and berries that Winslow left behind is nearly nonexistent, unless I count the bitter undertones of fruit gone bad.

I’m not even in a hurry to follow the alpha that Winslow managed to leave to all of us as a final fuck you, because I’m so convinced he’s fucking crazy.

So tell me why, when I walk into the downstairs den,there’s a fucking omega sprawled out underneath him, looking like she just got plucked out of the morgue, sucking blood from the feral alpha like he’s a popsicle?

“What. The. Fuck.”

I snap pictures before I convince even myself I’m wrong, sending them to the pack chat for proof that we’re all about to collectively hallucinate, and start running calculations in my head.