Knot the One They Want (Claimverse Book 1)
Knot the One They Want: Chapter 19

The heavy oak door slams shut behind me as I stride into the foyer after a long day at the office. Asher, Cole and Lake follow, their presence a familiar comfort, but it does little to soothe the restless energy thrumming through my veins. My mind drifts to the omega no doubt cowering in her room upstairs, those wide blue eyes filled with fear and confusion.

I wonder if she’s given up yet.

I tell myself it’s for the best, that she’ll be running back to daddy soon enough, the mark broken and this whole mess behind us. We can finally focus on what really matters.

Finding Daria and bringing her home.

But even as I cling to the cold comfort of revenge, a flicker of guilt tightens my chest.

I push it aside quickly. I don’t have the luxury of feeling such things, especially not when the pack is counting on me to be the strong one.

The scent hits me first as I stride into the living room—savory roasted lamb with hints of rosemary and garlic. It’s a mouthwatering aroma that has no business being in this house, not with the dark cloud that’s hung over us for months. It’s the kind of scent you would expect at a celebratory feast.

My brow furrows as I take in the unexpected bustle of activity. Maids scurry about, polishing silver and arranging fresh flowers. The dining room table is set with our finest china, crystal sparkling under the chandelier’s glow. It’s like stepping into a memory from another life.

Asher and the twins exchange bewildered glances behind me, but I barely register them. My focus zeroes in on Ellen as she hurries over, her normally stoic face pinched with anxiety.

‘What’s going on here?’ I demand, my voice a low growl. ‘I didn’t authorize any of this.’

Ellen twists her hands in her apron, a nervous habit I’ve never seen from her before. ‘I apologize, Mr. Blackwood. It’s just that Miss Blackwood has taken over the dinner preparations and⁠—’

‘Miss Blackwood?’ The name feels like acid on my tongue. How dare she claim that title, as if she has any right to it?

I don’t wait for Ellen’s stammered explanation. I’m already striding toward the kitchen. If that omega thinks she can just waltz in and play lady of the house, she’s about to learn how very wrong she is.

But as I push through the swinging door, the reprimand dies on my lips.

Evie stands there, a vision in a demure pink dress that hugs her luscious curves. Her honey blonde hair is swept up in an elegant twist, exposing the graceful line of her neck, but the space where our collar and the incomplete marks rest are just obscured by the scalloped lace collar of her dress. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat of the stove, blue eyes sparkling with determination as she directs the staff with quiet confidence.

And here I would have assumed she had never set foot in a kitchen, spoiled as she clearly is, but if she has anything to do with the heavenly aroma emanating from the room, I was dead wrong.

For a moment, I’m frozen. This isn’t the trembling girl I left upstairs. No, this is a woman who looks every inch the poised society wife.

And that realization sends a surge of irrational anger through me.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I bite out, my voice cutting through the kitchen chatter like a knife.

Those cornflower eyes meet mine, widening slightly before she schools her features into a polite smile. ‘Damien, perfect timing. I was just overseeing dinner. You wouldn’t believe the insufficient spread the staff had planned originally. And on the eve after our mating ceremony, no less.’

Her tone is pleasant, as if we’re discussing the weather, but the implication behind her words is clear. And so is the challenge.

I stalk toward her, gratified when her breath hitches and she takes an instinctive step back. ‘I don’t recall giving you permission to commandeer my household,’ I say, each word measured and sharp.

She lifts her chin defiantly, holding my gaze. ‘Your household?’ she echoes, folding her arms across her chest as the others come up to stand beside me. ‘I don’t know how they do things in your coalition—although if my experience thus far is any indication, we have very different values,’ she says with a pointed cock of her eyebrow, before continuing, ‘but I was trained at the most elite preparatory school for omegas in the country. Everything outside these walls may be an alpha’s domain, but in here?’ Her full, pink lips split into a saccharine smile that sets my blood boiling for more than one reason. ‘This is an omega’s domain. And last I checked, I was your omega.’

She takes a step forward to close the distance between us, her head lifted in challenge. ‘Unless there’s something you’d like to discuss with the Council.’

I grit my teeth, my jaw clenching so hard I can feel the ache radiating up into my temples. The staff have gone deathly silent, their eyes darting between us like spectators at a tennis match. I can practically hear their bated breath, waiting to see how I’ll respond to this blatant challenge to my authority. But her threat is clear.

If I push back, she’ll tell the Council we haven’t completed the mark. And if we thought rejecting her outright would ignite a firestorm…

In my peripheral vision, I see Asher, Cole, and Lake watching me intently. They’re poised to intervene if necessary, but I can tell they’re just as curious to see how this plays out. Traitors.

I take a slow, measured step forward until I’m towering over Evie, using my height to my advantage. She has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, exposing the slender column of her throat. For a moment, I’m distracted by the way her pulse flutters beneath that creamy skin. The bandages barely hidden beneath the thick velvet choker she’s layered beneath her collar and neckline in an attempt to hide them.

‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ I say, my voice a low rumble. ‘You may be my omega in name, but that doesn’t give you the right to undermine me in my own home.’

Her eyes flash with defiance, the blue deepening to the color of a storm-tossed sea. ‘Undermine you?’ she scoffs. ‘By ensuring that your pack is well-fed and cared for? Forgive me, alpha, but I thought that was the whole point of this arrangement.’

I can feel my control slipping, the demon within me snarling to put this impudent omega in her place. But before I can form a scathing retort, Asher’s drawling voice cuts through the tension.

‘She has a point, Damien.’

My head snaps toward him, a growl building in my throat. He meets my glare with a wry smile, completely unfazed. ‘Come on, you have to admit it smells amazing in here. When was the last time we had a proper meal?’

Ellen flushes at the indirect insult, but for as much as she barks at the staff, it’s never yielded gourmet results.

I want to argue with Asher, to remind him that we have far more pressing matters to attend to than playing house with this interloper. But as much as it galls me to admit it, he’s right. And so is Evie.

Like it or not, she is our omega, at least for now, and that makes our home her domain. All the more reason to get her out of it. But if I let her go to the Council now, they’ll know we failed to complete the mark.

She called my bluff.

I drag a hand over my face, the frustration and exhaustion of the past few months weighing heavily on my shoulders. ‘Fine,’ I grit out, the word feeling like broken glass in my mouth. ‘We’ll play along with this little charade. For now.’

Her lips curve into a triumphant smile, and I have the sudden urge to wipe it off her face with my own. ‘Wonderful. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.’ She turns to the staff, clapping her hands together. ‘All right, everyone, let’s finish up.’

The kitchen springs back to life, the clatter of pots and pans and the sizzle of searing meat filling the air. Evie moves among them with easy grace, offering encouragement and gentle corrections. It’s like watching a conductor guide an orchestra, each movement precise and purposeful.

I can feel the others’ eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. I give a curt nod, signaling for them to follow me out of the kitchen. As soon as the door swings shut behind us, I round on them.

‘What the hell was that?’ I snarl at Asher.

Asher spreads his hands in a placating gesture, a hint of amusement dancing in his sky blue eyes. ‘That, my dear bond brother, was our omega taking her rightful place in our home.’

The words are like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from my lungs. Our omega. Our home. As if she belongs here, as if she has any right to claim a place in our lives.

Before I can form a scathing retort, Lake chimes in, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. ‘I never thought I’d see the day the great Damien Blackwood gets alpha’d.’

Cole snorts, his grey eyes glinting with barely suppressed mirth. ‘Especially by an omega.’

Red hot rage surges through my veins, my alpha instincts roaring beneath my skin. How dare they take her side? After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve lost, they’re just going to roll over and let her walk all over us?

‘Fuck off, all of you,’ I growl, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. I can feel my instincts desperate to lash out, to assert my dominance. But I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.

I turn on my heel and storm out of the room. I don’t know where I’m going, just that I need to put as much distance between myself and that infuriating omega as possible.

My mind races as I stalk through the halls, replaying every moment of our confrontation in excruciating detail. The way she stood up to me, the challenge in her eyes, the infuriating curve of her lips. She may have won this battle, but she won’t win the war.

I’ll just have to try harder to make her life a living hell. To break her down until she’s begging to leave, until she realizes that she’s nothing more than a pawn in a game she can’t possibly understand.

Game on, little omega.

Game on.