Knot All That Glitters, Part 2 (FatedVerse #5)

Chapter 29

I’m Fine.

We’ve been in the waiting room for literally hours. It would have been longer, since Ren’s injury wasn’t life threatening and the doctors wanted to just put her leg in a cast and schedule a surgery to repair the damage later, but Tic had all but barked them into rethinking that strategy.

So Ren is in surgery now, and I can only hope that it’ll be enough to get allow her to dance again. The doctor straight up told me it wasn’t likely, not with the amount of damage done.

“Do you need anything, button?” Jude’s voice rumbles over me, making me blink up at him blearily. Sleep. I probably needed sleep, but I know myself well enough to know that isn’t happening anytime soon.

He crouches down in front of my chair and slides his big palms onto my thighs. “I know better than to ask you to get some rest, but do you need any food? Something to drink? A blanket?”

I glance to the side, where Moira and Ginny are slumped against each other. Ren’s little sister is out cold, leaning into her mother, chin dipping toward her chest, while Moira is staring straight ahead with red-rimmed eyes.

I’d burst out crying as soon as they entered the waiting room and sobbed out an apology to both of them.

Ginny had just hugged me tightly with her face pressed to my stomach, and Moira had cupped my cheek and told me none of this was my fault. I wish I could believe her.

“Maybe a blanket for Ginny? And a coffee for Moira?”

He gives a quick nod. “Of course. But what about you? What do you need?”

Honestly, what I need is for the surgeon to come through those doors and tell me that Ren is going to dance out of here in a few weeks. That her dream, her passion, isn’t totally shattered. I need the reassurance that she’s going to be okay, but I can feel it in my bones that will not happen.

My friend will never dance again. Not professionally. Maybe not even for fun.

I am the reason for that. Me.

I don’t deserve the comfort of my pack, my alpha. I don’t deserve to have this man, this amazing caring man, staring at me with worry, ready to do anything I ask.

I shake my head. “I’m fine.”

He blows out a breath and drops his forehead to my knees, rolling it back and forth. “No, you’re not, but we can talk about it later.” He presses a kiss to each of my hands and then stands up, eyeing Tic sitting next to me. “Watch over our girl.”

Tic arches a brow but only nods, before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tugging me into him. His lips press into the side of my head as I relax against him.

We’ve been sitting in silence, mostly. Jude has been working on his laptop, laying out the trail that will make anyone who looks think my father’s fled the country. I don’t know what that entails, and I don’t need to know.

The TV on the wall in the waiting room is on a news channel and not long after Jude shut his laptop with a satisfied snap, there was breaking news, revealing my father for the monster he is. Leaked videos from Shock and Awe are all over the internet. Emails, recorded conversations. Money trails. Proof that he always meant to use his low-income clinics to eradicate the designations. All of it released.

If he were alive, he would panic right about now. He would scramble to find a way to make all of this go away, but there’s simply too much. They’re saying he’s wanted for treason, which is better than we could have hoped.

But he’s very much dead, so none of it matters, anyway.

The news report ended with a request from the police for any information on his whereabouts. They’re looking for my father, but what they’ll find is the trail Jude left.

“You’ll have to give a statement,” Tic murmurs into my hair. “To the cops. They’ll want to know if you knew any of this.”

I nod, but I’m too tired to think about what I’ll say. I knew most of what he planned to do. But he also barked at me to never tell anyone, anything. So I’m not sure I can be culpable. I suppose we’ll find out.

Jude returns with a blanket and the requested coffee, handing the drink off to Moira, before tucking the blanket over the twelve-year-old girl carefully so as to not disturb her.

Then he crouches in front of me again and tugs a snack sized bag of FunYuns out of his pocket, followed by a package of Red Vines out of his other. “You need to eat something, button. Can you do that for me?”

Tic makes a noise like he disagrees. “You couldn’t find something a little healthier for her?”

Ah, that’s what his problem is. He’s worried about my nutrition, making sure I have the nutrients I need. He always has been. I’m about ninety percent sure he’s done research on foods for omegas to avoid and what they should eat the most of, and he’s crafted entire meals around that.

“We’re in the middle of a crisis, Tic,” Jude says. “I think a little junk food is called for.”

I reach for the chips and open the bag. Jude gives me a relieved smile, then scoops me off the chair and resettles with me in his lap. I sink against him, letting the heat from his body ease the tension in my muscles. Not entirely. I won’t be able to fully relax until I know for a fact Ren is going to be okay.

When I do nothing but stare down at the opened bag, Tic sighs, pulls out one of the salty rings and holds it to my lips. “Jude’s right, angel. You need to eat something.”

My lips part automatically and my teeth crunch down. I eat mechanically, chew, swallow, but I don’t taste my favorite salty snack. I vaguely wonder if I’ll taste anything again. Guilt is a terrible seasoning.

“God, I’m awful,” I mutter, making Tic stiffen and Jude tighten his grip on me.

“No, you aren’t.”

I open my mouth to argue. To tell them that all of this is my fault. But at that moment, Creed and Hale stride into the waiting room, freshly showered, clothes changed. They make a beeline for our little group, both of them dropping to their knees in front of me, reaching out to brush their hands over me, like they need to physically touch me to make sure I’m okay.

The tenderness in their gazes, their hands only makes me feel worse, though. The few chips I’d swallowed roil in my stomach, and I make myself pull away from them.

If Jude didn’t have such a tight grip on my waist, I would have stood up and crossed the room to get some space. But as it is, I can tell he won’t let me go and I don’t want to cause a scene.

The four of them exchange a narrow-eyed look. “Haven was just about to tell us why she thinks she’s awful,” Tic says casually.

Hale groans, then says gently, “Little mouse, you aren’t awful.”

Tears fill my eyes as I nod. “I am. Look at me eating chips, being comforted by my pack, when Ren is in there fighting for her life because of me. I’m awful.”

Creed’s eyes narrow at me. “Baby girl, this is not your fault. You know Ren wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

She wouldn’t. It doesn’t stop me from doing it, though.

“And she isn’t going to die from this, button.”

I clamp my teeth around the words I want to snap at him. Because again, he’s not wrong. Ren is going to survive this. She’ll survive the shattered knee and the surgery, but some part of her will forever be fundamentally changed, and not for the better.

“She’ll never dance again,” I whisper.

Hale grips my knee and squeezes while Jude presses a kiss to the side of my head.

“Probably not.” Tic doesn’t sugarcoat it. “But she’ll be alive and we’ll do everything we can to help her thrive after this, Haven. You know we will.”

I nod, throat feeling tight with tears I don’t want to shed. “I know you will because she’s important to me.”

“She’s important to us ,” Jude corrects. “Not just because she’s your friend, your family, button.”

“She’s like the annoying little sister none of us knew we were missing,” Hale says wryly with a little smirk on his lips. “She’s our family, too.”

“And we take care of family,” Creed vows.

I blink at them, not sure what to say. I guess I’d always thought they tolerated her presence in their house over the last few months because of me, because they knew I needed her with me. It never occurred to me they might actually like her, care for her the way that I do.

But of course they do. Ren is extremely likable. To know her is to love her.

Finally, I choke out. “I-Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us, mouse.” Hale leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Not for this.”

The door behind Hale and Creed opens and the doctor in charge of Ren’s surgery strides through. The five of us are on our feet in an instant, Moira slower to follow since Ginny is still asleep and needs waking. As the Doctor comes to a stop in front of us, the girl rouses enough to blink sleepily up at her mom in question, then leaps to her feet as she remembers where we are. “Is she okay? Is Ren going to be okay? Will she dance again? Is she awake? Can we see her?”

“Patience, Gin,” Moira says, sliding her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Let him speak.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to snarl at him, to say something, anything, but I just barely stall the impulse.

“She’s just fine,” the doctors says with a reassuring smile. “The surgery went off without a hitch. We were able to reconstruct most of the damaged area.” Relief overwhelms me, and my knees turn to mush. Four sets of hands grab me, keeping me from falling, guiding me to lean against Creed’s solid weight.

The blood rushing in my ears keeps me from hearing what else he’s saying, what anyone is saying. I watch as his mouth moves, watch as Tic asks a question, and the doctor responds, but I don’t understand a word of it. I hope like hell someone will tell me later what he said. Creed’s arms wrap around my chest and shoulders, cradling me against him, holding me up.

“Can we see her?” Ginny asks again, and that question breaks through.

“She’s still under sedation from the surgery, but she should be coming out of it slowly.” He looks at Moira. “If you two would like to go sit by her bed, I’m sure that would be fine.” He gives Ginny a bright smile. “I bet she’d love to see you when she wakes up.”

Ginny nods, tucking her head against her mother, late blooming embarrassment suddenly making her shy.

“I’ll show you to her room, if you’d like?” The doctor offers and Moira gives him a grateful look.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” She turns to me, a worried expression taking over her gratitude. “You’ll be okay?”

I nod, even though it’s taking everything in me to not burst through those doors and hunt for my best friend. I need to know she’s actually okay, need to see it with my eyes. But the doctor made it seem pretty clear that only family—her mother and her sister—would be welcome.

“I’ll be fine,” I say as Hale slips an arm around my waist, pulling me into him, wedging me between him and Creed.

Moira follows the move, then looks at my prime alpha. “Maybe you should go home and get some rest? I’m sure Florence will be up for a visit in the morning.”

I open my mouth to say no, I’ll wait. But she cuts me off with a sharp look. Not angry or reproachful, but one of maternal worry. “You’ve had a trying day, Haven. I don’t know for sure what happened, but anyone looking at you can see that. Let your pack take you home, get some rest and come back first thing in the morning. There’s nothing else for you to do here.”

Creed bends and presses a kiss to my temple. “We know she’s okay now, baby girl. Let us take you home and take care of you.”

Tears fill my eyes. They’re right. All of them are right. I’ve had a big day. I won’t say it out loud, but I killed my father. I killed my father. My tormentor, the villain of all our stories, snuffed out with the single squeeze of a trigger.

I’ve been so worried about Ren that I haven’t given myself time to think about it, to process it.

I don’t want to. I don’t want to come to terms with the fact that I’m a killer, a murderer.

“I-I-Okay,” I choke out, suddenly overwhelmed and needing nothing more than my nest and my alphas wrapped around me.

“You’ll call if there’s a change?” Tic asks Moira, who is quick to nod.

“Of course.”

“There really shouldn’t be, though,” the doctor promises. “She’s a fighter. The hard part is over. Now she just needs to heal.”

I swallow down the words I want to say. That the hard part is not fucking over. The hard part is still very much ahead of us, where Ren realizes she won’t be able to dance again, will never realize her dream of being one of the few omega principal dancers.

There will be moments where she flounders and doesn’t know who she is anymore. This is all she’s wanted for so long.

Moira gives me a look like she knows what I’m thinking and agrees. Ignoring the way Hale tries to keep me against him, Ren’s mother pulls me into her arms, swaying gently. Her soothing beta scent does wonders for my bruised heart. “We’ll be there for her. We’ll help her, every step of the way.”

Ginny’s thin arms wind around my waist and squeeze. “He’s right that she’s a fighter. We’ll just have to remind her of it.”

That is… very astute for a twelve-year-old.

“We will,” I agree with both of them.

Moira pulls back and cups my cheek again. “Get some rest, sweet girl.”

I nod and press into her palm briefly.

The doctor clears his throat, and we move apart, Moira and Ginny following him, and my pack tucking me between all of their big bodies and ushering me out the door.

I almost don’t return.

After everything, I almost stay tucked up in my nest, rather than go to the hospital. Even though I’m awake only a few hours after we climbed in my bed, laying there with Hale on one side and Creed on the other, staring up at the ceiling. For hours, until it’s an appropriate time to be awake and all of my alphas start to stir.

Creed takes one look at my wide awake state and sighs, pressing a kiss to my temple, my forehead, my lips and then rolls over to climb out of bed. “Come on, baby girl.”

I frown and nuzzle deeper into Hale’s embrace. Hale hums and squeezes me tighter. “What’s the problem, mouse?”

“Who says there’s a problem?”

“You’ve been awake for hours, angel. Now you don’t want to leave the bed?”

“Do you not want to go to the hospital?” Jude asks blearily. “Why don’t you want to go to the hospital?”

Okay, wow. I don’t think I enjoy being called out like this, but I don’t know what I should have expected when they can feel my trepidation, my guilt, my worry about seeing the aftereffects of what my father did to my best friend.

Hale smacks a kiss to my shoulder, then slaps my ass. “Get up. We’re going.”

Tic and Jude get off the bed, then Hale follows. I watch from the bundle of blankets as they move around the room, ducking into the closet to pull on clothes. Tic drops a stack next to me, and I eye the fabric, not reaching for them.

“Bellybutton,” Jude groans, tipping his head back to the ceiling. “You will never forgive yourself if you don’t go see Ren, right this instant.”

I sink farther into the blankets. “What if she hates me?”

“Impossible, mouse. That girl loves you. She’s your soulmate, right?”

“One of them,” Jude corrects. “‘Cause we’re soulmates too, right?”

I kick at the covers, petulantly. “Yes. I have five soulmates.”

“So if Ren is one of them, she could never hate you, angel.”

I’m not convinced.

“If the roles were reversed, would you blame her?” Creed asks gently.

“Of course not!” I snap.

The four of them motion like well, there you go then.

I know they’re right. I know it. But I still can’t bring myself to move. Guilt is tight in my stomach.

Creed sighs. “You can either get out of that bed on your own or we can drag you out and to the hospital just as you are.”

I look down at the t-shirt I’m wearing and nothing else. “Liar.”

He smirks, then lunges, throwing off the blankets before throwing me over his shoulder. I squeal and flap my hands at him as he hauls me out of the nest and down the stairs. The other three follow behind us, chuckling.

I lift enough to pin them with a withering glare, which only seems to make them laugh more. “You think this is funny?”

Jude shrugs. “I mean, a little yeah.”

“But more importantly,” Tic adds. “We know you need this.”

In the next instant, Creed is tossing me into the back seat of the car and sliding in next to me. Jude’s quick to claim my other side, a bundle of clothes in his hands. “We’re going, bellybutton. You should just accept it.”

“God, you’re all so annoying,” I grouse, folding my arms over my chest as Hale maneuvers the car out of the garage.

“But you love us,” Jude croons.

I do, but I only hum in response.

I still haven’t put on the clothes they brought for me by the time we pull up in front of the hospital. For no other reason than that I’m being stubborn. But when Creed arches a brow in threat, I realize he will carry me in there with no pants on. He’d probably drape a coat or something over me to keep me from flashing my bits at everyone, but he will do it.

Rolling my eyes with a huff, I grab the pair of leggings and yank them on. Followed by fuzzy socks and a pair of slipper shoes. “Good girl,” Creed murmurs, low and soft, into my ear before he and Jude help me pull on a super soft sweater that smells like Tic.

I’m silent as we make our way through the winding halls back to the omega wing. Nerves cramp my stomach and the gentle purr coming from all of my alphas does nothing to soothe it. She might hate me. She might blame me for what happened, which would be a thousand times worse than me blaming myself, which I already am. So fucking hard.

“It’ll be okay,” Jude whispers to me as we stop at the desk outside the omega wing. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I nod but can’t bring myself to agree as Tic politely asks the beta behind the counter for Ren’s room number. The nurse tells us, but then also says that alphas aren’t allowed in the omega wing, unless their bonded omega is a patient.

Hale motions at me. “This is our bonded omega. Her sister is the patient.”

The nurse eyes all of us, like she doesn’t quite believe us, but our mating scars are on full display, so she has no reason to doubt us. After a moment, her lips purse and she gives a tight nod. “Very well, you may enter.”

My feet don’t move. I can’t bring them to lift. Tic sighs and presses into my lower back, urging me forward. In no time at all, we’re standing outside her door and my fingers are twisting in the hem of Tic’s sweater nervously.

Without giving me a chance to protest, Hale opens the door and Tic pushes me inside. The door clicks shut behind me.

My already tear-filled eyes find her, my best friend in the world, laying pale and weak in the hospital bed. Her eyes are closed, her left leg encased in a cast from hip to toe. She has on one of those awful hospital gowns with a pink cardigan over top.

Ren has always, always been vibrant, like a little ray of energy and sunshine. This version of her is… faded. More like the sun shining through a cloud cover.

And it’s my fault.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Ren grouses. Her voice is weak and wispy but doesn’t hide her displeasure. Neither does her glare when she opens her kaleidoscope eyes.

“Like what?” I make my feet move to the side of her bed, make my legs bend to perch on the edge next to her uninjured leg.

“Like you’re worried I’m going to keel over at any moment. I’m fine.”

My stomach sinks. Surely her doctor told her. Surely he didn’t leave it up to Moira or me to carry out this unpleasant task. But if she doesn’t know, I can’t let her remain ignorant of the reality of her situation. She needs to know.

“Babe.” I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together. “I don’t know how to tell you-”

Florence sighs and presses her head back into her pillow wearily, her eyes slipping closed. “I know, Haves. I already know. The doctor told me. I’ll never dance again. I’ll be lucky if I walk again without a limp.” She sounds so fucking matter of fact about it. So unlike herself.

Tears fill my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I choke out. “So fucking sorry, Ren. I should have-”

“Should have what?” She pins me with a surprisingly sharp look, given that she must be high as a kite on pain meds right now. “Should have what? Put yourself in more danger than you already were? Never gotten yourself away from your monster of a father?” Her fingers tighten around mine. “I don’t blame you. This didn’t happen because of you. This happened because of him. He’s the asshole who did this. You’re the amazing woman who saved me.”

“It never should have happened.”

“But it did. It happened, Haves. The only thing we can do is move forward.” God, this woman. This amazing, strong, fierce woman.

“How did I get so lucky to have you as my best friend?”

She sniffs disdainfully, even as a small smile curls her lips. “Lucky is the right word, for sure. Especially since I can see your healed mating bites and you didn’t even fucking tell me!”

My hand drifts up and presses against Creed’s bite. “It just sort of happened and then we… um… we were distracted-”

“By fucking.”

My cheeks heat, but I don’t deny it. “And I was going to tell you, I texted, and that’s when I got the message from—”

I trail off because she knows the rest.

“I want details.”

I glance over my shoulder at the door. “I don’t think you do, actually.”

She scowls at me, motions with her free arm at her cast. “I deserve every gory little detail, Haven. Give them to me. I need to live vicariously through you, since I doubt I’ll ever find a pack, let alone my fated mates.” She remembers that, huh?

I sigh and shift to stretch out next to her, being careful to not bump her leg. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything. If only to get you to stop with the guilt trip.”

“Oh, goody.” She snuggles down against her pillows and looks at me expectantly. “Proceed.”

So I tell her everything. From them not being a pack since my heat, to the bonds clicking into place again, to me being their fated mate for their new pack, to Hale urging me to bite him so I could feel secure in knowing that they do want me, that I am theirs. I gloss over a lot of the sex and the knotting, but I tell her how the bonds felt clicking into place, how they feel now. Like coming home. Like I’m where I’m always meant to be.

By the time I’m finished, she’s drowsy and almost asleep, but her mouth is curled in a sweet smile. “I’m so fucking happy for you, babe. You deserve all of that and more.”

My eyes sting as I pull her into my body, press a kiss to her forehead. “You deserve it, too. I’m going to make it my mission to find you your fated pack, Ren. I promise. You’ll be as happy as I am someday.”

Her nose wrinkles as her eyes drift closed. “I don’t need a pack to be happy.”

I don’t argue with her, but I think she’s wrong. Especially now. Now that she won’t be able to do the one thing that she loved above all else. She’ll want that support, the security, the love. I know it.

Can she be happy without a pack? Sure. Of course, she can. She’s been happy enough for her entire life.

But I want her to be incandescently happy. Beaming with it, overflowing with it. I want her disgustingly happy. And for that to happen. Her omega will need a pack.

So I’m going to find one for her.

She’ll thank me in the end.