Knot Broken (Hiddenverse)

21. Elliott

CHAPTER 21

Elliott

As Lilah focuses on her last shot of the course, with no chance of winning now, I catch a subtle exchange of looks between Miles and Rafe. They’ve been quietly steering the cameras away from her, keeping the crew at a slightly greater distance than usual. I thought it was just them being playful, but now, a strange knot forms in my stomach. They’ve known she didn’t take her blockers. My gut twists at the realization.

Rafe, who decided after helping her get a hole-in-one that he was done faking, is now clearly in full competition mode. He’s collecting hole-in-ones like trophies, saving his requests for later, and staying close to Lilah, brushing against her whenever he can. His alpha is in control, and it’s obvious he’s feeling possessive.

As Rafe lines up his last shot, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. If any of the crew picks up on the fact that Lilah hasn’t taken her pills, she could be sent home. The rules are clear on that, and I’ve always been a stickler for following them. The idea of her being caught sends a shiver down my spine, but Rafe and Miles seem almost too calm, like they’re confident they’ve got this under control.

He came up like a dark horse to steal the win from all of us. This next putt will give it to him. But it’s hard to focus.

Rafe’s putt is perfect, of course. He nails the shot, securing his victory with a smirk. “Sorry, boys, looks like I’m winning this one, and I have nine uncollected kisses,” he announces, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Nine kisses?” Lilah echoes, flushing as she realizes what he’s been banking on.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone else is trading for. But my kisses aren’t for the camera. Apologies to all of the viewers at home,” Rafe says with a playful glint in his eye.

Miles chuckles. “Some people are pool sharks, he’s obviously a mini-golf shark.”

“It must suck to have no talent,” Rafe replies with a laugh.

“Wouldn’t want to take the spotlight from you,” Miles says, stepping back to let me take my shot.

I’m usually all about the competition, but the tension in my gut isn’t from the game anymore. It’s from the knowledge that we’re walking a fine line here. I drop my ball on the mat, trying to focus, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Lilah and the risk she’s taken. I want to believe Rafe and Miles have this handled, but it’s hard to shake the worry gnawing at me. If Thomas or anyone else figures it out, she’ll be sent home.

Lilah’s teasing brings me back to the moment, but I can’t fully enjoy it. I putt my ball, watching it roll toward the hole, but my mind is elsewhere. Rafe and Miles exchange another glance, and it’s like a silent confirmation that they’re in on something I’m only now catching up to. They’ve been protecting her, keeping her scent from being too obvious, but the risk is still there, looming over all of us.

Once we finish the course, Rafe secures his win, and we head back to the SUV. I try to push down the unease, but it’s like a coiled spring in my chest, ready to snap. I can’t let on that I know, not with the cameras on us, but the fear of her being caught is real, and it’s growing stronger with every step.

As Miles shuts Lilah’s door, and we start to head around the front of the vehicle, Thomas calls us over. The knot in my stomach tightens. I know this isn’t going to be good.

“Gentlemen, I know you’ve had a nice morning,” Thomas starts, and the sinking feeling in my gut turns into a full-blown drop. “But she broke the rules. She didn’t take her pill to block her scent.”

My heart pounds. “And?” I say slowly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“You need to send her home.”

“What?!” Miles’s voice explodes, raw with disbelief, just as Rafe snaps, “Absolutely not!”

Thomas takes a small step back, straightening under the weight of our stares. “She disqualified herself,” he states, his tone clipped but not without a hint of unease.

“Like hell she did,” I growl, closing the distance between us until I’m inches from his face. The words feel like they’re pulled from somewhere deep inside, almost a snarl. “If she leaves, I walk.”

His eyes narrow, a calculated look crossing his face. “You’re under contract,” he reminds me, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty behind the calm mask he wears.

Fury boils in my veins. I can feel it thrumming in the space between us, barely contained. “She stays, or you have no show. Do you understand?”

Thomas holds up his hands, palms out in a placating gesture. “I can see you’re upset about this development.”

“Upset?” Miles barks out a laugh, sharp and dangerous. “You haven’t seen half of it.”

Rafe steps up beside me, his body rigid with anger, a low growl simmering beneath the surface. “You’ve made me keep Hailey. Every. Fucking. Step. Of. The. Way. If that fame-hungry bitch gets to stay, so does Lilah.”

Thomas flinches. Then he straightens his shoulders as his voice drops to a menacing rumble. “If she goes back into that house smelling like her natural perfume, the other omegas will lose their minds. It’ll be chaos. Do you want to deal with seventeen scenting omegas?”

Miles adds, almost nonchalantly, but with a sharp edge, “After tonight, it’ll only be eleven, right?” The implications hang heavy in the air, as if eleven perfuming omegas wouldn’t tear each other apart fighting over the same pack.

I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady, even as the words tremble with emotion. “She can come back to the carriage house, take a shower, and take her pill. Costuming can bring her a matching outfit. No one will know.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. I can feel the others tensing beside me, the threat of us walking away hanging in the balance. I’m not bluffing—Lilah’s the one. If we could call it a day now, that would be perfect.

Thomas’s lips press into a hard line as he surveys each of us, his eyes calculating. He knows we’re serious. He knows we mean every word. Finally, he exhales sharply, jaw working as he nods toward the SUV. “Fine,” he grits out, the word laced with reluctance. “But if she does it again before production says it’s time, she’s gone.”

The tension eases, but only slightly. Rafe’s anger still radiates off him, and I can feel Miles vibrating with barely controlled fury beside me. None of us are satisfied, but it’s a win—a small one, but a win nonetheless.

Thomas turns, walking away with the tightness of someone who’s just been bested. I catch Rafe’s eye, and for a moment, we share a look of mutual understanding. We’re not done fighting for her—not by a long shot.

The ride back to the carriage house is silent. Lilah doesn’t ask what Thomas wanted. And when I pull up in front of the smaller house, she glances over at me.

“What are we doing here?” she asks. It’s off limits for omegas. Another rule we are about to break, I guess.

“Production needs you to take your scent-blocking pill and a shower,” I say as I meet her blue eyes.

Her lips form a silent oh . “Right, yeah.” She nods like a bobble head, clearly uncomfortable now. The flirty omega’s gone, and in her place is one that’s regretting her choices.

Miles and Rafe climb out of the car, and I hesitate, wanting to reassure her but not exactly sure what words would do it.

“Are they sending me home?” she asks in a tiny voice, her eyes downcast, hiding her emotions.

“No. But they will if you do it again.”

I want to scent her perfume every day. Fuck. I need to. I’ve always known that there are scent matches for everyone. That one perfect person’s out there that just matches. The perfume that you can’t live without. Even if there were a hundred omegas with the same smell, hers is the only one that would speak to me on a soul level. She’s mine. And there’s nothing or nobody that can take her from me; not now that I’ve found her anyway.

“Come on. I still have those seven minutes to collect and the film crews won’t be here,” I say, attempting to make my words teasing to bring a smile to her face.

She nibbles on her lower lip before nodding and releasing her buckle. Miles is opening her door the second she reaches for the handle, clearly waiting for our conversation to be done. He helps her out, meeting my gaze over her head. All three of us are on the same page. Well, almost. Rafe’s still struggling a little bit with it. But she’s the one, and now we just need to make it to the end of the show.

The only problem with that is the fact that we will also have to flirt and talk to the other omegas like they might have some sort of chance. Or I’m sure Thomas will step in and make it happen. Angry bees erupt in my stomach. I am not sure I can physically touch any of them. If she’s even within view, I’m pretty sure it will be impossible not to be right by her side. That’s the opposite of what a courting alpha should do.

It’s ironic that our publicist said the best direction for our pack to ‘fix’ what Rafe did a great job at destroying was to come on this show. Did I want an omega? Yes. But I also knew this show would help Rafe repair his career. And I hoped finding an omega would mend us. Three birds, one stone. At least that’s what it looked like before meeting Lilah. Now, we may make an even bigger media storm by breaking the fucking contract, not to mention the money we would owe.

Forcing myself from the SUV, I trail after them into the house. Their voices mixing, yet still not having the same lightness to them.

Lilah comes to a stop next to the kitchen island, her eyes flowing over each of us. “I really screwed up everything today, huh?”

“Just a little,’ Rafe says as he crosses the room and takes down some glasses. “Water?”

Without waiting for responses, he fills all four glasses with ice water and slides them across the counter for each of us. An awkwardness seems to fill the space, and the way that Lilah’s perfume becomes a little more sweet tells me she feels it too.

Finding your scent match should be easy and immediate happily ever after…at least that was the dream that lived in side my head. But this right here, it feels as if it’s breakable—tentative and unstable, like she will slip through our fingers with the wrong move.

I swallow dryly before picking up the water and downing the whole thing. Setting the glass down before my clammy hands have it crashing to the counter, I turn toward her. The need to cement whatever this is sinks inside of me like a lead weight, making me feel heavy and sluggish.

Are the guys feeling this too?

“Ready for our seven minutes?” I ask.

“Do we have to go into a closet?” she asks with a laugh. And either she’s as good of an actor as Rafe, or she’s not having the same sense of impending doom. Only her scent gives her away.

Attempting to play along and push the edging darkness away. I say, “It’s a walk in if that matters.” I add in a shrug for good measure, and she laughs again, a dimple appearing on her cheek.

As I lean against the kitchen island, my fingers lightly tracing the smooth surface, I catch Lilah's gaze. I can feel the warmth of her body next to mine as she toys with the rim of her water glass. Her presence is magnetic, pulling me in, but there's also an undercurrent of anxiety within me. I'm afraid she could slip through my fingers at any moment, but I keep it masked behind a playful smile.

Rafe shifts on the other side of the island. His attention completely on Lilah. "Seven minutes in heaven in the walk-in closet?" he says, his grin mischievous. "You could just do it here."

Lilah's hand brushes against mine as she glances my way, her eyes full of amusement. "Seven minutes alone ," she says, her voice teasing.

I laugh, trying to keep the mood light even though her nearness is making my heart race. "Alone," I repeat, trying to sound confident even as my nerves threaten to bubble over. One wrong move and this is over, I can feel it in my gut.

Rafe and Miles laugh, and Miles chimes in, "Didn’t you say all of us get those seven minutes because you let him win?"

Lilah's smile widens, her eyes dancing with playful challenge. "Did I?" she asks, leaning in just a bit closer. The way she looks at me makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of something I don’t want to fall off.

My voice stays steady as I respond, keeping up the pretense. "You did, but I’m first," I reply, feeling her fingers brush lightly against my arm.

Rafe and Miles share a glance, and I think they can sense my tension even though I’m hiding it. But they don’t say anything, letting the moment play out.

Lilah’s gaze holds mine, her expression full of intrigue. "A deal is a deal" she murmurs, and the way she says it sends a thrill through me.

I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. "Don't keep me waiting too long, then," I say, trying to keep my tone light, even though I’m afraid I might be falling harder than I intended.

I can feel her eyes on me as I slip down the hallway. When I reach my room, I glance back down the hall to find her watching me from the place I left her. Inhaling a deep breath, I step into the room, breaking eye contact. Then I enter the walk-in closet and release the air from my lungs in a slow exhale. The mid-day light shines across the space from the high window, and I watch the dust motes dance in the air as I wait. Before I turn around, I can hear her soft footfalls behind me.

The door clicks shut, and her fingers trail along my arm. My heart hammers inside my chest, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she can hear it .

I turn toward her. “You followed.”

She looks nervous as she smooths her fingers over the front of my shirt. Her tiny pink tongue darts out and moistens her lips. “A deal is a deal,” she repeats her words.

“We don’t have?—”

She goes up on her tippy-toes and presses her lips to mine. The sensation is electric, her touch sending a shiver through me. When she pulls back, I find myself gazing into her eyes, mesmerized by the depth in them.

“We do, because I need to know how you kiss when there are no cameras to catch the moment,” she whispers.

It’s all I need before I’m pulling her into my arms and kissing her like a man drowning. She whimpers into my mouth. The sound automatically has me dropping my hands to her ass and pulling her up, encouraging her legs to wrap around my waist. It’s like second nature.

She releases a sound that’s a mix between a moan and another soft whimper as I press her into the shut closet door. Blood surges between my legs, hardening my cock in my pants. Her perfume infuses my senses in a way that feels like it seeps into my very soul.

“Fuck,” I murmur against her lips. Only pulling back far enough for my eyes to skip between hers, checking in with her on this development. Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, and her lips are swollen from my desperate kiss.

If I hadn’t taken my pill this morning, my own musk would be mixing with her pheromones, and I don’t think seven minutes would be long enough.

Her fingers work my shirt up over my abs and chest before she pulls it from me and drops it to the floor. The feel of her palms flattening on my bare skin lights a fire inside of me. With a groan, I claim her mouth again, this time some of my restraint breaking loose. I nip at her soft lips, and she moans into my mouth .

Then I bite and nip my way along her jaw, moving beneath her ear, sucking at the sensitive flesh before trailing down to her scent gland. Her pulse throbs beneath my tongue. And every single fucking urge wants me to sink my teeth into her neck and claim her.

Forget the sex and knotting. I know she’s it for me, and if I can bind her to me, even in the most temporary way, because claiming marks are only permanent after a heat. Just the thought of my mark on her has me pressing her harder into the door, into the softness between her legs.

A groan slips out, rolling over her skin, as my teeth graze the spot. I arch my hips against her, finding a sweet friction. The fabric of our clothes is a flimsy barrier.

Her fingers tangle into my hair, and she arches her throat as if to say, do it.

The thought is like a bucket of cold ice water. I know that isn’t what she’s thinking. I want this so much, I’m almost willing to disregard what she might want. Breaking away from her, I set her on her feet and step back. The loss of her heat against my body is a physical ache. But if we keep going…there will be no stopping. And I’m not ruining the first perfect thing I’ve found in years.

Focusing on the door just above her head, I say, “I think that’s seven minutes.”