Knot The One They Want

Torin Pov

I suppose the night was not quite as unbearable as usual, mostly because Erin was here. He talks enough for three people, somehow forcing me to forget about my own crushing problems for a few minutes at a time.

Still, I am man enough to acknowledge the absolute truth. I fucked up badly. Right now, I am not only dying inside, but I am also about to die in real life, taking my entire pack down with me. I have to admit that at some point I simply stopped giving a damn about Spade Industries.

After all, it is that treacherous company that blinded me with power and money, distracting me from loving Lorali the very moment I set eyes on her. Then there are the Masintoshes and the Whales project, the massive undertaking I promised would be my most ambitious and successful project to date. Instead, I have screwed everyone over. I groan loudly as I step out of the shower. Erin forced me in there because, according to him, I smell like absolute garbage and he will vomit if he has to endure my odor for another second. I tie my bathrobe tight, stepping out of the steam and directly into my bedroom.

"Are you seriously still depressed after all the motivational speaking I just gave you?" Erin huffs, hearing my heavy groan. He stands right next to the open window, desperately trying to get a breath of fresh air.

Damn. Do I really smell that bad?

"You just made me more depressed," I tell him, pulling the robe tighter. "You literally told me that my entire pack, specifically my omega, the only person on this earth I truly care about, is going to die." I pull open the heavy cabinet doors and freeze. Lorali’s clothes still occupy the entire left side. A faint, lingering scent of vanilla hits me from the fabric, sending a sharp kick straight to my gut.

"Torin, the only reason I told you about any of this is so you would finally get up and do something about it," Erin says, his tone shifting from annoyed to urgent. I ignore the speech and quickly grab one of the very few pairs of sweatpants I actually own. I do not have many casual clothes laying around. I was always working, always busy, so I never had a real need for comfortable wear.

"And you know, now that I actually think about it, my omega probably is not going to die," I say dully, stepping into the pants. "The rest of us will, sure. We absolutely deserve it."

I remember that Arabella is currently with the Masintosh Pack. It is highly unlikely she would ever let them harm a single hair on Lorali’s head. I may still despise Arabella, mostly because I know deep down Lorali would not hate me half this much if Arabella had not meddled in our lives, but I am force-fed a harsh reality now: that, I was wrong in the past thinking she’ll hurt Lorali when in all honesty, she will never let anything happen to Lorali.

I look up as Erin shakes his head, his voice sharp with frustration. "That’s besides the point. Even if she’s not going to die, you are going to die. And your pack, the one you’ve known for such a long time." The words should sting, but they don’t. It doesn’t kill me to admit that I don’t give a damn. Me and my pack can die. I don’t care. I sigh, staring at my desperate little friend, watching him tug at every string he can find to pull me back into wanting life again.

"Just leave it, Erin. I will patiently wait for death."

He huffs loudly, the sound echoing in the silence between us, before clicking his tongue and nodding his head with a mocking finality. "All right then. Go die, Torin. I’ll just live and be there to pick up the pieces when you’re gone. Perhaps me and your Sugar Plum will be together, bonding over your horrible death. I’ve been wanting to meet her, imagine how legendary it would be if we met at your funeral. That would be the grounds for our love story, and it would be epic."

Something in Erin’s words sets me off, igniting emotions I haven’t felt in a long time. Rage rises above them all, hot and consuming. I don’t know why I feel this way, it’s not as if Erin means what he says. Him and Lorali will probably never be together. Probably. Yes... that’s the problem. It’s all left to probability. Lorali is lovable, Erin is lovable, and together they’d be a match made in heaven. Specifically for each other. And that rubs me wrong

I don’t want Erin and Lorali together. My best friend and the woman I love? No. I know I’m being selfish—I’ve always been selfish—but even after death, my death, I will never allow those two to be together.

"I’d give her a beautiful fairy tale wedding," Erin continues, his tone dripping with provocation. "With a bunch of butterflies in a castle near the sea. I’d give her the life you could never give her. So hurry up and die, Torin. Your...no...my forever Omega is waiting for me."

Erin has never looked so punchable. I want to ram my fists against his cheek, to feel the satisfaction of silencing him, but the distance between us is too great. "Stop, Erin." The words bite out of me, heavy with anger.

He tilts his head, amused, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "What, are you bothered now?" His voice carries as much attitude as a man can muster. "I promise you, if you die before me, I will pursue your omega."

Silence falls between us, thick and suffocating. My eyes search his, desperate to read the truth, but I can’t tell if he’s lying. And that bothers me more than anything. Knowing Erin, he probably means it. As forgiving as his heart is, he can hold a grudge. And so can Lorali.

Oh my goddess. These two are so similar.

I might be losing my mind, but is this fate? Is this the goddess’s plan? That me and my entire pack die, and Lorali moves on with Erin—my best friend—and together they rebuild the Boleyn pack with new people, traveling the world, living their happily ever after. They’d visit my grave once a year at Christmas, thanking me for bringing them together.

That’s a love story right there, playing out perfectly.

No. No fucking way.

I will not allow this. Never. "That is if I die, Erin, so do not get ahead of yourself. I am still alive, and I will stay alive. Spade Industries will not fall, and as long as it does not fall, I will not die. Your morbid fantasy is never going to happen."

I speak the words aloud, aware that I sound more than a little paranoid. Erin squints his eyes at me, lifting a skeptical eyebrow, but I pay him no mind. I make a straight beeline for my phone sitting on the desk. I snatch it up and immediately shoot a text to my assistant.

Me:

Prepare for a press conference at the office. I will be there in an hour.

I toss my phone back onto the table before even waiting for a reply. "You said Walter is in heat, right? So the rest of my pack is completely preoccupied with him for the next week?"

"Yeah," Erin says cautiously, his gaze tracking my every move. He hesitates before adding, "Why?" Because I am going to do what I do best. I am going to step back up and be Torin Spade: the Lead Alpha of the Spade Pack and the Chairman of Spade Industries. It falls entirely on my shoulders to fix this mess, because nothing gets done in this pack unless I do it myself. (Honestly, I am mostly doing this to win Lorali’s heart back, and to guarantee that she and Erin never end up together, even if I end up dead.)

"I am going to need a suit." I toss the sweatpants back onto the bed and head right back into my walk-in closet. "Erin, can you design the resort for me? I kind of promised it would be just as ambitious and dangerous as one of your signature buildings, but I have no real idea how to pull that off. Please give me a rough sketch to point me in the right direction."

I pull out one of my crisp, pristine suits. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Erin smiling ear to ear. "I have waited for this day for years," Erin says, practically glowing. "Boleyn and Spade collaborating at last. The sketch will be done in no time."

I quickly strip down and change into the tailored suit, running my fingers through my hair to slick it neatly back.

"So, what are you actually going to do first?" Erin asks, peeking his head into the bathroom frame.

"I am going to set everything right and solidify my pack’s complete hatred for me in the process. But who cares? At least they will live." I button my jacket, already walking toward the bedroom door and stepping out of the room for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

Erin trails right behind my heels. "Why are you following me? I can handle this by myself," I exclaim, not breaking my fast stride.

"Oh, I promised your packmates I would watch you," he replies smoothly. "This is me watching you."

I am pretty sure my pack actually meant that he should not let me leave the property, basically putting me on a tight leash. But whatever. I am certainly not going to admit that to him. I hurry down the main staircase. Halfway down, by pure chance, I freeze dead in my tracks. A sharp scent hits my nose.

Vanilla.

Lorali.

I scan the wide foyer quickly, my chest tightening, but there is no sight of her anywhere. I must be completely losing my mind because of how intensely I miss her. She has to still be at the hospital.

I shake her image out of my head just as my nostrils are filled yet again with the heavy, cinnabon scent of Walter. I rush straight out of the penthouse with Erin hovering right behind me. I take one last look back over my shoulder as Erin pulls the heavy front door shut.

When I return to this place, everything will have changed.

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