Knot the One They Want (Claimverse Book 1)
Knot the One They Want: Chapter 18

The shower water runs pink as it swirls down the drain, my blood mixing with the scalding stream. I wince, dabbing gently at the raw wounds on my neck. Four jagged crescent marks, angry and inflamed. They stopped bleeding briefly after the ceremony, but when I woke up the next morning, it was like they were fresh.

I have no idea how to treat a partial mating bite. This definitely wasn’t covered in omega finishing school.

Teeth clenched, I wrap a gauze bandage around my throat, around and around until the white strips conceal the damning evidence of last night’s humiliation. I can still feel their sharp canine teeth in me, marking me, making promises in front of our friends and family they had no intention of keeping when we were alone.

Nausea rises and I swallow hard, bracing myself against the cold tile. I will not throw up. I will not be weak. Even if I feel like a brittle shell of myself, hollow and aching.

I thought I knew what to expect when I was paired with the Blackwood pack. Every omega dreams of the day she’s claimed by her alphas and whisked away to begin her new life as a cherished mate.

I’d been so hopeful, so naively confident that I could charm even the roughest, most hardened men. Isn’t that what I’d been trained for? Bred for? The perfect, poised omega, ready to submit sweetly to her alphas’ every whim.

What a fool I was.

A vain, silly little fool who actually believed the pretty lies they tell us to convince us to sign over our fates to the first alphas willing to take us.

Addie’s always had the right idea.

I emerge from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, limbs leaden, a throbbing ache building behind my eyes. The chaos I wrought on the room last night waits for me, an unwelcome consequence in the sobering light of morning. I begin the long and messy process of cleaning the remnants of my ruined nest. At least it’s a distraction.

I finally manage to get the bed and what’s left of the linens back into some semblance of order. The maids are going to have some questions when they see what’s in the trash bags stacked by the door. Ignoring the tray of food left by the maid outside my door, I crawl back into the nest and curl into a tight ball under the covers.

The events of last night replay mercilessly.

I never expected them to romance me, seduce me, shower me with affection as they claimed me. But not this…

Not for them to see me spread open, presenting myself to them, making myself more vulnerable than a person ever could be, only to be flat out rejected. Ignored.

A broken sob escapes me and I quickly muffle it in the pillow. I can’t erase the memories that are seared into my mind. The cruel glint in their eyes as they turned and walked away.

I’ve never felt so lost and alone. So worthless. I’m officially mated to the Blackwood pack now but I’m not truly theirs. An omega is supposed to feel safe and protected in her pack.

I just feel like a prisoner.

Or worse, a toy that’s already lost its appeal.

I have no idea what to do or what happens now. Where do I belong if not with my alphas? How will I face them after exposing such vulnerability? Such weakness?

Despair threatens to swallow me whole and I burrow deeper under the covers, desperately wishing I could hide forever.

But I am a Beaumont.

And a Beaumont never lets anyone see her break.

A car engine rumbles to life outside, tires crunching on the gravel drive. I strain to listen, holding my breath until the sound fades into the distance.

They left.

Of course they left. Why would they stay? They made it perfectly clear what I mean to them.

Nothing.

I’m just a burden. An unwanted responsibility.

And today may be the day after my whole world was upturned, but to them, it’s the same as any other day.

I let myself wallow for a few hours. It only feels fair. Slowly, I uncurl from my protective ball, joints aching from being clenched so tightly. The blankets are a tangled mess around me, the sheets beneath damp with tears I didn’t even realize I shed. Pathetic.

I force myself to sit up, scrubbing at my puffy, raw face. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the ornate vanity mirror across the room. Tangled hair, blotchy skin, eyes red-rimmed and haunted. I look as broken as I feel.

No. I refuse to wallow.

I am Evangeline Beaumont.

And I don’t break.

Lifting my chin, I meet my own bloodshot gaze. Time to put on my armor.

I slip out of bed, wobbling slightly as I stand. When was the last time I ate? It doesn’t matter. I have no appetite anyway. The throbbing in my head intensifies and I wince, massaging my temples. I thought going back to bed would help, but I feel worse than ever.

I need to get dressed. Look presentable. Maybe the rest of my things will arrive today and I can finish setting up my room.

My room. Because it certainly isn’t our room.

I select a simple sundress, not bothering with makeup. Who am I trying to impress? I’ll be shocked if I see another soul today. Resigned, I emerge from my room, steps slow and measured. The hardwood floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I pad down the hallway.

‘Oh! Miss Beaumont, you startled me.’

I look up to see the maid from last night frozen in place, her arms full of fresh linens she seemed oblivious to the existence of last night.

The maid’s eyes widen as she takes in my appearance, her gaze lingering on the bandage around my throat beneath my collar. I resist the urge to tug at the gauze self-consciously. Her brow furrows and she shifts the linens in her arms.

‘Is… there anything I can get for you, Miss Beaumont?’ she asks, her tone polite but strained.

I clear my throat, wincing at the rawness. ‘I wouldn’t mind some breakfast, actually.’

Her lips press into a thin line as she pointedly glances at the untouched tray beside my door. ‘You have breakfast right there, Miss Beaumont. Unfortunately, the kitchen is closed and won’t reopen until the alphas are home for dinner.’

Something in me bristles at her dismissive tone. At the implication that I’m not worth the effort. That I’m somehow less important than the alphas who rejected me.

It’s the same way the household staff started treating me after my mother died and Vivienne took over as lady of the house. Little indignities that piled up into becoming a second class citizen in my own home. I know how quickly the new normal sets in. A spark of indignation flares to life, momentarily overtaking the hollow ache in my chest.

I may be broken, but I refuse to be treated like I don’t matter. Like I’m not a real part of this pack. Drawing myself up to my full height, I meet the maid’s pale brown eyes directly.

‘Then open it again.’ My voice is quiet but firm, leaving no room for argument.

She blinks at me, taken aback. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Beaumont?’

‘Miss Blackwood,’ I correct her, taking a step forward, squaring my shoulders. ‘It’s Miss Blackwood now.’

She casts another pointed glance at the bandages around my neck, as if thinking of challenging me on the fact that I’m not properly marked yet. Let her. It’s a shame on her masters, not on me. Let her pitch a bitch fit about how I’m not their rightful omega, and I’ll take the very same complaint to the Council of joint coalitions. We’ll see who they decide is to blame.

‘Yes, Miss Blackwood,’ she finally says, her eyes flicking down in defeat. ‘But as I said before, the kitchen is⁠—’

‘Closed. Which means it can be reopened.’ I keep my tone even, but there’s an unmistakable edge of steel beneath the polite veneer. ‘I’m not asking for a seven course meal. Just something fresh I can actually eat. I was up late, trying to make a proper nest out of the insufficient materials your staff failed to provide me.’

The maid opens and closes her mouth like a gasping fish, clearly at a loss for how to respond. I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she tries to decide if it’s worth defying me.

I arch a brow, letting the silence stretch between us. Challenging her to refuse.

Finally, she drops her gaze, shoulders sagging almost imperceptibly. ‘Of course, Miss Blackwood. I’ll see what I can arrange.’

‘Thank you… what did you say your name was?’

‘Ellen,’ she answers in a clipped tone, as if she thinks I’m not good enough to know her name.

‘Ellen,’ I repeat, offering a gracious smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I’m well practiced at being polite to people I know are gossiping behind my back. For some reason, I actually believed my mates’ home would be different. ‘I appreciate it ever so much.’

She nods stiffly, not quite meeting my gaze as she hurries past me down the hall. I watch her retreat, a small flicker of satisfaction temporarily thawing the ice in my veins.

It’s a hollow victory, I know. Keeping the snooty staff in line won’t change my situation. Won’t make my alphas want me. But right now, I’ll take any semblance of self-respect. And I won’t let them think they can get away with abusing me just because I’m not an alpha.

I learned my lesson about becoming a doormat years ago. Back when Carrie, the only nanny who didn’t treat me like an afterthought to my brothers and sister, turned around and framed me for stealing Vivienne’s jewelry. She would have gotten away with it, if it wasn’t for dad’s hidden security camera in the hallway. Paranoia has its occasional virtues.

That was the day I learned that the only person I could really trust was myself. So I guess Carrie taught me something, after all.

Sighing, I lean against the wall, suddenly drained. The momentary burst of bravado fades as quickly as it came, leaving me feeling small and lost once more.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be welcomed into my new pack with open arms. Cherished. Protected. Not cast aside like an afterthought.

Tears prick at the backs of my eyes and I blink them away furiously. No. I won’t cry. Not again. Crying won’t change anything. I need to be strong. To figure out my next move.

But what is my next move? It’s not like I can leave. I’m bound to these alphas now, whether they want me or not. And even if I could…where would I go? Back to my family in disgrace?

The very thought makes my stomach heave. No. That’s not an option. I’ll die before I admit defeat.

I have to make this work somehow. I just…I don’t know how.

Squaring my shoulders, I push off the wall and continue down the hall. First things first—I need to eat something. Keep my strength up, no matter how little of an appetite I have. Then I can worry about the rest.

One step at a time, Evie. You can do this. You have to.

Failure simply isn’t an option.

I repeat the words like a mantra as I make my way to the dining room, each step measured and deliberate. The click of my heels against the polished hardwood echoes through the empty halls.

I pause in the doorway, surveying the grand space with a critical eye. The long mahogany table gleams in the morning light, set for one with a simple place setting. A far cry from the elaborate spreads I’m sure they put out when the alphas are here, but it will suffice.

I settle into the chair at the head of the table, the seat of power. My seat now, as lady of this house. At least while my alphas are gone.

Lifting the cloche, I reveal a plain bowl of oatmeal, a small dish of fruit, and a carafe of coffee. Hardly the stuff of kings. But I suppose I should be grateful they bothered to feed me at all. Even if they had to be strongarmed into doing it.

I take a sip of the coffee, savoring the bitter bite on my tongue. It clears the fog from my head, sharpens my focus. I need to think. To plan.

The alphas may have rejected me, but I refuse to slink away and lick my wounds in solitude. That’s what they’d love. For me to accept their rejection and fade into the stone walls of this place, to be invisible. Comfortable. I am the omega of the Blackwood pack, and I will take my rightful place, whether they like it or not.

A soft knock at the door interrupts my musings. Ellen enters, her expression pinched as she takes in the sight of me at the head of the table. ‘Do you need anything else, Miss Beaumont?’

‘Blackwood,’ I correct her again, setting down my coffee cup with a deliberate clink. ‘And yes, actually. What are the dinner plans for this evening?’

Ellen blinks, clearly taken aback by the question. She’s used to running this place. To being the woman in charge, but she’s about to learn to endure a very different reality, just as I have to.

‘The chef has a menu prepared. Salmon, I believe, with⁠—’

‘Cancel it.’ I cut her off with a wave of my hand. ‘There will be roast lamb tonight. And a proper spread to complement it. I’ll see to the lamb myself.’

‘Lamb? But… why?’ Ellen sputters, her brow furrowed in confusion.

I fix her with a cool stare, one eyebrow arched. ‘Because the original menu is hardly fitting for such a special occasion. Or have you forgotten that yesterday was our official mating ceremony?’

Ellen opens and closes her mouth again, at a loss for words. I can practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes, trying to make sense of the fact that I’m clearly not the simpering, spineless little omega she was told by her masters to expect.

‘I’ll make the necessary arrangements,’ she finally says, dropping into a reluctant curtsy. ‘Will that be all, Miss Blackwood?’

‘For now.’ I dismiss her with a nod, turning my attention back to my meager breakfast.

As the door clicks shut behind her, a small smile curves my lips. Round one to me.

My alphas are about to learn they’re not the only ones who can execute a power move. They want me to be invisible? To cower in shame at their rejection? They’ll have to try harder.

They want to play games?

Fine. I’ll play.

And I’ll win.

I might not be able to force them to love me, but if I have to be trapped, then so do they. And they’re about to regret the fact that they didn’t run when they had the chance.

I am their mate. Their omega.

And they will treat me with the respect I am due.

Even if I have to force it down their throats, one perfect dinner at a time.