Knot Broken (Hiddenverse)

18. Lilah

CHAPTER 18

Lilah

My stomach twists into knots, a turbulent mix of nerves and regret swirling inside me. The decision to skip the lotion and pill this morning was reckless, and now it's catching up with me. Heat blooms across my cheeks as Elliott leans closer, his flirtatious grin making my pulse race. I can feel the subtle warmth spreading from my wrists, betraying me as my scent slowly permeates the air.

Under the table, something brushes against my leg, a gentle, lingering touch that sends a jolt straight through me. I nearly jump out of my seat, my eyes snapping to Rafe, who watches me with a challenge glittering in his gaze.

"Yeah, Lilah, break the rules a little," he murmurs, his voice low and edged with something I can't quite decipher.

A shiver dances down my spine at his words, the double-meaning not lost on me. Ever since he realized what I'd done, an unspoken tension has crackled between us, sharp and electric. He masks it well for the cameras, but in these small, charged moments, his displeasure seeps through, tightening the space around us.

I swallow hard, reaching for the cold glass of water in front of me and taking a long sip, hoping to quell the heat rising beneath my skin. "I'm actually a rule follower," I say, attempting a lightness I don't feel. "So if Elliott wants to break them, it won't be with me. Besides, I can think of a few omegas here who wouldn't need your musk as an excuse to climb you like a tree."

My attempt at humor hangs in the air, and for a moment, uncertainty grips me. Then Elliott's eyes spark with amusement, a slow smile spreading across his face that makes my heart skip.

"That reminds me," Rafe starts, a mischievous glint replacing the earlier edge in his eyes. "Didn't you mention something about Elliott and?—"

Panic flares, and before I can think, my foot connects with his shin under the table. He lets out a grunt, followed by a rich, genuine laugh that eases some of the tightness in my chest. The sound is contagious, and despite myself, a small smile tugs at my lips.

Our laughter is interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, her notepad poised and ready. Grateful for the distraction, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "Um, could I get eggs, toast, and a side of pancakes, please?" The simplicity feels safe, grounding.

She nods efficiently before turning to Miles. As he orders, his choice catches my attention.

"I'll take the Nutella, strawberries, bananas, and blueberry waffles," he says.

My mouth waters instantly, and without thinking, I lean forward. "Oh, can I get that too?"

"Certainly," the waitress replies, her pen scratching across the paper as she takes down the rest of the orders. “And for you?” the waitress asks, her gaze lingering on Elliott as she prepares to take his order.

“Cinnamon bread French toast with some scrambled eggs,” he replies smoothly, handing over his menu. Miles follows suit, stacking his menu on top and passing them to Rafe.

“Me too, just the cinnamon bread French toast,” I add quickly, second-guessing my original order. The waitress suppresses a smile, her pen moving swiftly across the notepad.

My stomach churns with anticipation, realizing I’m about to eat a ridiculous amount of food. Everything they order sounds too good to resist. I should have actually read the menu instead of using it as a shield to hide behind.

“And last but not least, what can I get for you, Mr. Carson?” Her voice dips into a husky tone as she shifts her attention to Rafe, clearly flirting. I can’t blame her. The first time I met him, my reaction was much the same, though I didn’t know who he was at the time.

“I’ll take the breakfast hash, extra veggies, please,” Rafe says, his eyes lifting to meet mine. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a knowing smile, and as I open my mouth to impulsively order the same, he adds casually, “And our omega would like some of that too.”

My breath catches in my throat. Our omega . The words echo in my mind, each syllable heavy with meaning. My eyes widen, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I try to process what he just said. The casual way he claimed me, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, sends a rush of warmth through me.

Holy crap. Did he really just say that?

My thoughts race, and it feels like the world tilts on its axis. Being called "our omega" by Rafe—by any of them—isn’t just a term. It’s a declaration, a step beyond flirtation, something deeper and more binding. My pulse quickens as the weight of those words settles over me. He just staked a claim, not just for himself but for all of them .

I try to maintain my composure, but I know my shock is written all over my face. The waitress, oblivious to the significance of what just happened, simply nods and finishes jotting down the order.

As she walks away, I’m left grappling with the new reality Rafe’s words have created. I glance around the table, my gaze flitting between them. Elliott grins as if this is all a game, Miles looks thoughtful, and Rafe… Rafe looks like he knows exactly what he just did. And he doesn’t regret it for a second.

This just got real .

Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the warmth coming from him now, a stark contrast to the instant annoyance he showed earlier at my lack of blockers. The world around us fades away—I barely notice the woman walking off or the cameraman capturing every moment. I’ve completely fallen under his spell.

Do I know it’s part of his act, something he’s slipping back into effortlessly? Yes. But a stubborn part of me doesn’t care that it’s all pretend. I’m willing to live in this fantasy, at least for today.

Still, a small flicker of doubt lingers at the edge of my thoughts. Did he really mean it when he called me “our omega”? Or was it just another line, part of the show, a way to keep up appearances for the cameras?

I push the nagging thought aside, reminding myself that Rafe had asked Chad to be his shield, a clear indication that this is all just a game. But today, I decide to lean into the act. I’ll flirt, I’ll touch, and I’ll indulge my omega heart’s desires, because none of it really matters. As Chad has said so many times before, this show’s fake. None of it is real.

I’ll just ignore the fact that I chose not to wear the lotion or take the pills. It’ll be fine. I hope.

My stomach aches with all the food I’ve attempted to stuff into it. I lean back in my chair with a groan, holding my belly. “I think I’m having a food baby.”

Miles chuckles. “Are they starving you in the house? Do I need to smuggle you some treats?”

I smirk over at him. “I won’t say no to Twizzlers.”

“Done.”

“You really are the sweet one. Rafe tried to convince me that you weren’t,” I say, shifting my attention to Rafe, who only lifts an eyebrow at my lie. We didn’t talk about Elliott or Miles, besides what he overheard at the hot tub yesterday.

“What else did Rafe say about us?”

I purse my lips as if I’m thinking of what more he could have said, and he rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Nothing, because you two aren’t that interesting.”

“I think you two are fascinating. Anyone that doesn’t live for the spotlight is a-o-k in my book.”

Rafe hums his annoyance at my words. They may be a compliment to his pack mates, but they’re a definite poke at him.

“I think Lilah and I need a quick conversation before we leave,” Rafe says as he pushes away from the table and stands. He ignores my feeble protest and pulls out my chair, offering me his hand.

Once we are away from the cameras and his pack, he turns on me. “What’s that?” He gestures back at the table, and my brow furrows.

“Breakfast?” I play dumb.

“We have a deal,” he says, ignoring my fake ignorance.

“Rafe, there are no other omegas here.” I lean against the railing at my back and tilt my head to look up at him. “Do you want me to pretend for the cameras?”

He runs his fingers through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes. Of course I mean the cameras. We have to sell it to the world, Lilah.”

Suddenly, the carefree and flirty way I was going to act today feels wrong. I want more. I deserve more. And if he can’t give that to me?—

My stomach twists, images of Jared and Tabby showing up hand in hand to my bonding ceremony, of being second best, filtering in. Is that what he wants? For me to play the part and then not be the final omega standing? To be left at the last second again? I can’t do that. The food sours in my belly, and I swallow down bile.

“Send me home today,” I say, locking my eyes with his. I hate the words the second they leave my lips, but I can’t stop them. I’m falling for these three, and I’ve been down that road before.

“What?” He shakes his head as if he didn’t hear me correctly, but I just press my lips together and watch him. “No. That’s not the deal.”

“You made another deal—you have Chad now,” I say. “Until the end, apparently.”

“Chad?” he asks, like he’s never heard his name before in his life. “That isn’t the same.”

I laugh and lean away from him as he invades my space further. “It isn’t?”

He swears under his breath, boxing me in, his hands gripping the railing on each side of me. If it weren’t for the slight breeze, my perfume would be enveloping us in a cloud of sexual cookies—if cookies can be sexual. As it is, when he inhales and his nostrils flare, I know he scents me. His eyes drop shut, and a pained look crosses his face.

“This whole ‘shield’ thing, it’s not just for the other omegas, Lilah,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorial. “It’s for the world. The people watching—they need to believe it, too. That’s the only way any of this works.”

My heart stutters at his words, and I try to read between the lines. Does he mean it’s all an act for everyone, even us? Or is there more?

“But…” I hesitate, searching his eyes for something, anything. “But what about you? Is that all this is? A show for them?”

His gaze softens for a fraction of a second before his usual mask slips back into place. “It’s about keeping you close,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, so quiet that I almost wonder if I imagined it.

My breath catches in my throat. Keeping me close? But before I can ask what he really means, his head dips down, and he nuzzles into the curve of my neck, releasing a soft purr that sends a shiver down my spine, settling between my legs.

“It’s not the same, Lilah. I don’t want Chad,” he murmurs against my throat, repeating his words, his lips brushing my skin.

Fuck me . My stomach drops, and my pussy cries. My pheromones are pumping out of me on hyperdrive. And I attempt to tamp it all down.

“I don't understand,” I whisper, as my eyelashes brush my cheeks.

He inhales again, sending a shiver down my spine as his nose brushes my skin. “Neither do I. But even without your fucking drive-me-insane perfume clouding my thoughts, I crave you.”

My toes tingle, and my stomach bottoms out at his rough confession. The words sound torn from him unwilling. I feel alive for the first time since having my heart shattered. My fingers curl into his soft shirt, and I meet his gaze as he straightens .

“You're not going home tonight, Lilah.” he says, his voice firm yet laced with something deeper.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, a mix of fear and hope twisting inside me. Does he mean it? My mind spins, caught between wanting to believe him and fearing this is just another part of the act. But the way he holds me, the intensity in his eyes—I can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there’s more to this than he’s letting on.