Knot Mine

Chapter 6 – Zale

Chapter Six

Zale

M y heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest as the cheers and roars of the crowd hit me, almost like a physical blow. Tonight, we were playing against Fairfax Falcons, but they were no match for our defense, their last hope lost. Game over.

The raw alpha pheromones on the field feed into the frenzy, the testosterone ramping everything up. While the teams weren’t solely made up of alpha players, sports like this were a perfect outlet for the natural aggression of my secondary gender. It was one of the few places it was acceptable to encourage the animalistic sides of ourselves.

When the final whistle blows, I barely even hear it, just the screaming coming from the bleachers. With my chest heaving, sweat stinging my eyes, a grin splits my face. Playing for the Sentinels was the only time I felt like me. And tonight, we’d held. We’d won .

Blake shoulder barges me playfully before tearing off his helmet. His smile is as wide as mine as he tosses back his head and laughs. “They thought they had it!”

“How wrong were they?! We smashed it, man,” Evans screeches as he runs at us. He’s clearly riding the adrenaline just as hard as I am – his eyes flashing as he lands a few fake punches to Blake’s side. We may have evolved beyond our savage ancestors, but something about sport seemed to bring out the beast inside us more than usual.

The rest of the team swarms as Blake is lifted, pushed, slapped and hugged. He’d thrown three touchdowns, earning the praise. He was Oakley University’s golden boy, the quarterback everyone loved. He’d have more than his fair share of attention tonight at the party we’d inevitably be throwing back at the house.

The floodlights cut through the damp winter air, as we walked off the field. The cheering, replaced by the clatter of pads, the sound of cleats and the tired grunts of the team.

When we get to the locker room, the atmosphere is electric as the pheromones start to fade, the aggression and rage fading into smug satisfaction. As I strip off my kit, and get in the shower I realize that for a few precious moments, the weight of my parents' expectations, their endless lectures about family legacy had vanished. This is why football was my happy place. There’s a flicker of something close to stubborn defiance burning in my chest.

Today, I wasn’t heir to Blackwood Tech, I was simply a cornerback. A player on the winning team. Today, I was just Zale.

“Hey! That was INCREDIBLE!” Millie throws herself at me as we exit the changing rooms, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck as she peppers my face with kisses. “And hot!”

Her familiar scent wraps around me as I nuzzle her hair with a deep inhale. She’s wearing a team jersey with my number on it, and while it should make me feel possessive. Primal. It didn’t. It was nice, but it didn’t make me feral the way it did with others on the team. They loved seeing people wearing their numbers, it fed into the part of our brains that said dominate . Mine . It was written into the code of our DNA as Alphas, and yet I always wondered if I was a little broken in that way. I wasn’t like Evans or Blake, happy to have Omegas lining up to spend the night in their bed. Didn’t want to spend my rut lost in a mindless haze with just anyone who was willing. It had to mean something. I guess I was just always missing that connection…Millie was the only one who’d come close to making me feel like a normal alpha.

“I’m so proud of you, babe.” She links her arm with mine and begins leading me over to Sadie’s car, where Evans is already in the passenger seat, hanging out the window.

“Hey man, are we grabbing burgers?” Blake calls as he climbs into Hunter’s car with some of our other teammates.

“Of course. It’s tradition at this point.” Evans hollers back, “Meet you at Holy Cow.”

When we enter the bustling diner just off campus, some of the girls, including Millie and Sadie, head straight for the bathroom while we grab some tables. We always ended up here after we won a match, celebrating our wins with carbs and grease. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a burger bar that seemed to have this cottagecore vibe with all the hanging plants, and chilled decor. All the furniture was wooden, but none of it seemed to match and fairy lights were strung up on the beams and down the supporting pillars.

In all honesty, if I hadn't known about this place during freshers’ orientation, I probably never would have ventured in here – but the Resident Assistants in our dorm swore hands down they made the best burgers in town. Turns out, they were right. Holy Cow was in partnership with local farmers and suppliers, so everything they made was top tier, sustainable and delicious. And the decor grew on me, and the others. It was chilled, which after an intense game like today, was much needed. Good food, good vibes and good company.

While the others are shifting the furniture around a little to make space for everyone, Hunter nudges Blake and they both grin at Evans. I know what they’re going to say, they’ve been like dogs with a bone the last couple of days, teasing Evans about his ‘situationship’ with Sadie.

Blake rubs a hand over his jaw, scrubbing at the little bit of scruff he’s been trying to grow. “I see that you and Sadie are still a thing.”

Evans refuses to meet his eyes as he drags a chair over and throws himself down into it like a surly toddler. “Yeah, it just happened that way.”

“You do you, man.” Clapping a hand on his shoulder, I attempt a reassuring smile. It was his life, so who was I to get on his case about it? He was making his bed, and he’d be the one to lay in it. “No judgement here.”

Hunter snorts as he scans the QR code on the table. “Well, lots of judgement here. She’s a harpy.”

Evans just blinks at our housemate as Blake throws his head back and laughs, drawing the attention of people on the next table. “Head game must be strong though…sucked his brain outta his dick, clearly.”

Evans blinks again and it’s like his brain has finally caught up as he narrows his eyes at Hunter. “A harpy? Who the fuck says that?”

“Well, that would be me, obviously.” Unlike us, Hunter wasn’t taking a business class this year, he was on some sort of English and Art course. I’m not really sure how he ended up living in a house with the three of us, but he’d been introduced to us through Blake in the first year and that was the end of the story. He was one of us now. Even if he did leave dirty paint brushes in my mug of coffee occasionally.

Blake sits there flipping through the menu on his phone. “What the fuck are you learning in those literature classes, man.”

“I’m done waiting, I’m ordering!” Evans grumbles. “I feel like I could eat a whole cow.”

A while later, after the food has arrived and the tiredness is creeping up on me, talk turns to our weekend plans.

“Anyone down for a hike this Sunday?” Hunter asks, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. He looks like some starving hippie as he gulps down his meal, his braids pushed back with a headband, woven and leather bracelets taking up space on both arms, and his green T-shirt looking a little worse for wear. Paint stains his nail beds.

“Hmmm, hiking isn't really my thing.” Sadie runs a hand through Evans’ hair, almost possessively as she glares at any other omega in the diner. Which means she just sits scowling for the whole meal as half the campus is probably packed in here right now.

“You wanna go on a hike, babe?” Millie asks, giving my knee a squeeze beneath the table. I know it’s not really her thing, but if I wanted to go, she’d probably make the effort, even if it was only to take some pictures for PikSnap.

“I’m out–I have a family thing.” It’s a lie, but one I’ve been telling for a while. During my second year, I needed some extra credits and my sports science professor suggested helping out at a community sports center in Riverview. Since then, I’ve been volunteering with a local youth group who work with the community to support various sports teams.

Currently I was assistant coaching a teen football team in my free time – not that I’d told anyone besides Blake, who helped me on occasion. An extra pair of hands when it comes to a group of volatile teenager alphas was always welcome. I don’t know why I haven’t told anyone else—volunteering is nothing to be ashamed of, most of our parents (usually our omega parents) volunteer but for now it’s something just for me. Something that’s all mine.

It’s also what prompted me to sign up for the business management module this term, not only because it applied to the degree my parents wanted me to do, but because it might also help me if I choose to go into something like Sports Management. Not that it was an option. Not really. More like a wishful dream, I guess. Taking a gulp of my soda, I try to ignore the way anxiety starts to creep in every time I think about what happens after university.

Dipping her onion rings into my sauce, Millie half leans into me, smelling like crispy batter and her usual buttery scent, although it’s been spiking with sweetness lately. It must be her encroaching heat. “Oh, that reminds me. My parents are back in town in a few weeks and they’d love for you to come to dinner.”

Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat as her hand tightens again before drifting higher, towards my cock. Millie’s parents, like mine, were always travelling for business.

Evans shoots me a look that seems to say, ‘See. Now you know how I feel. ’ But this is where we differ, I know what’s expected of me. Millie’s my girlfriend, and she hopes that one day we’ll be more so it only makes sense that I spend time with her family. Well, her parents. Her twin seemed to hate me, and I didn’t really blame him. I’d fucked up at the coffee shop, frustrated that they were being so goddamn snotty with me. But it wasn’t like me to let things like that bother me. It was Shiloh Vos, everything about him just seemed to crawl under my skin and scratch at my brain and not in a good way.

“Sounds good, babe.”

She twirls a finger through my hair. “You know how much they love you.”

“Is your brother going to be there?”

“Hmmm, probably. Although he might just hide up in his room watching one of his weird cartoons again. Only coming out for food like some easily startled woodland creature.” She laughs, Sadie and the others joining in, making my skin prickle. “Don’t worry about Lo. I’ll make sure he plays nice.”

“ W e don’t have to do this, you know.” Shiloh’s green eyes narrow on me, the fading sunlight making them look almost hazel, speckled through with gold. It also makes the caramel tones in his hair shimmer where the light hits it directly.

Coughing awkwardly, I adjust in my seat, ignoring the dull ache in my ass. Why were library chairs so uncomfortable when people spent hours in here?

“I don’t want to be a freeloader.” I squirm again, tapping my pen against my notebook and not just because he hasn’t taken his gaze off me since I sat down fifteen minutes ago. Have his eyes always had those flecks? “So, just let me do my share of the work.”

When I’d arrived, he’d already pulled out a stack of books and was making his way through them with a pack of post it notes, occasionally typing something on his laptop. He was wearing his usual turtle neck, this one the color of a latte and for a change, it was somewhat fitted, clinging to his willowy frame rather than swamping him like his usual jumpers. His leg was partially stretched out under the table, and I noticed he was also wearing fitted jeans that folded up by the ankles. It was strange, seeing the bare skin there when I was so used to him covering up. Shrinking away. Trying not to be noticed.

He’d clearly been expecting me to bail, based on the way he froze without even glancing up as I entered the strangely intimate space he’d hidden himself away in. Pausing, I’d tried to give myself a discreet sniff. My T-shirt was fresh, I think…and the jeans were out of the laundry pile. My varsity jacket didn’t seem to give off any weird odor either. Was I exuding pheromones? Is that why he was so jumpy? No…and he was a beta. They weren’t usually very sensitive to alpha or omega scents, usually only noticing them when they were extreme–so during a rut, a heat or an angry outburst. Was he always on guard like this?

“Oh, you'll be doing your share.” He laughs, the noise bitter and sharp. It grates on me, the sound forced, making my alpha instincts wince. “I just meant we didn’t have to do it together. Here. In the library.”

We’d chosen corporate social responsibility as the topic for our project, looking at the ways a company could integrate this model, and drawing up a business plan for the fake business we’d been assigned. The reflective essay needed to be a critical evaluation of the model, but also our proposal, hence why we were now hiding out amongst the dusty books.

“It just makes it easier.” Grabbing the back of my neck, I feel my face heating up. Was it warm in here?

Shiloh sits back and crosses his arms, pulling his jumper more taunt against his torso. “Hmmm, does it?”

Pulling my water bottle out of my bag, I take a gulp, feeling his eyes on me as I swallow greedily like some sort of dehydrated hamster.

When I’m finished, I feel a little more composed, and he’s returned to making notes, I try to strike up conversation again. “How did you find this place?”

The library was built partially into a hill, which means that even though the front of the building was at ground level, and we were technically in a basement, there were still windows letting in the dusk light. We were sitting on a small table that could fit three people around it, at a push, surrounded by bookcases. I’m not even entirely sure how I managed to find my way down here, and if it hadn’t been for another student pointing out this alcove area when I asked, I might have walked straight past Shiloh.

“I came across some students fucking in here by accident during my first year. They must have graduated because I haven’t seen them since.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. “Either that or they died from shame.”

“Oh.” I doubt it was the shame. Thanks to secondary genders and our bestial natures, sometimes fucking in public happened. If you were an alpha or an omega, it was usually laughed off or covered up. It was only a humiliation if you were a beta, because you were expected to control yourself. There were no excuses for Betas apparently, I’d seen how people treated Shiloh.

Frowning, uncomfortable with that train of thought, I open the book closest to me and start skimming through the contents page. “Have you heard from anyone else?”

“Nope. And if they don’t contribute, we’re not putting their names on this project. Got it?”

I shift uncomfortably, partly because of the stupid chair, partly because something about being so cutthroat doesn’t sit right with me. What if they get angry because we’ve left them off? What if it leads to some sort of confrontation? Shiloh might be willing to brawl over a class project, but I wanted a simple life.

“Zale.” The warning tone in his voice makes me look away. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” If he wanted to take responsibility, and draw that line in the sand between us and the others, then I’d keep my mouth shut and do whatever he tells me.

“Now, I have an idea…”

We work in silence for a little while, broken by low whispers every so often and trading of the occasional idea. It’s…easy. Being around him like this. It’s a side to Shiloh Vos I don’t think I’ve ever seen. I don’t think anyone has, except maybe his roommate.

As the last of the day light vanishes, and the darkness creeps in around the shelves and dusty tomes, I relax. I think Shiloh seems more at ease too, as he asks for my opinions more and seems happier to divide the work out. Every now and again he rubs at his neck, like something is irritating him, but I’m just glad his annoyance isn’t directed at me for a change.

Hours seem to vanish in this weird way until Shiloh stretches, and announces that he’s done for today’s session. He pushes to his feet and stretches again with a groan that makes me swallow, his jumper riding up to expose a small strip of pale skin. I was clearly tired, and my brain scrambled from the prep work we’d done today.

Sliding my laptop and my notebook back into my backpack, I grab his glasses and place them down on the table gently. “I think these are yours…y’know. From the party. At Colton’s.”

Shiloh stares at them for a moment, as if they might grow a head and bite him before cautiously snatching them up, shoving them in his pocket. “Oh. Yeah.”

A hint of caramel lingers in the air, teasing the tip of my tongue, making my mouth water. Maybe someone nearby was due their heat?

Tilting my head, I look down at him. He was shorter than me, the top of his head coming to my chin but almost the same height as Millie, so I would guess around five foot 7. His smaller stature never detracted from that sharp tongue of his though, he was a viper when he wanted to be.

“Are you going to thank me?” I ask with a frown. I didn’t have to pick them up, or return them to him. No one else would have. The least he could do is apologize…it was basic manners.

“We’ve been sitting here for over three hours and you’re only now returning them.” He crosses his arms and glares at me, his green eyes flashing angrily. “You’ve had them for Goddess knows how long, but you want me to be grateful you’re finally returning them?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I was trying to do a good deed and give them back, but he was criticizing me? I’ve been carrying them around since that night, waiting for the right moment and stupidly, I thought that this was it. Clearly, I needed to learn to read the room better in future.

His pretty pink lips have pulled into a tight line as he scoffs. “You’re the same as the others.”

“I didn’t return them earlier because I knew you’d be like this.” I throw my hands up. His words weren’t fair. I was bringing them back to him. I was trying to help. I could have left them by the pool, pretended that I never saw them. I could have bailed on him today. Was I a saint? No. But I was trying to make an effort. Didn’t that count for something? “Not everything is a confrontation or a slight, Shiloh.”

His eyebrow arches. “Isn’t it?”

Stepping towards me, his bag is forgotten on the desk as he encroaches on my space. I can smell something sweet, like vanilla coming from him and I think it’s his body wash. “Haven’t your dumb jock friends, and the catty omegas that cling to you taught me otherwise?”

Another step forward, as I step back, trying to keep some distance between us but it’s no use, he just moves again. It’s like we’re magnets and there’s some force, probably anger, drawing him to me.

“Have any of them ever shown me an ounce of kindness or fuck, anything other than contempt?” There’s more than just anger lacing his words, there’s rage. A fury making them sharp, cutting into me as he takes another step forward. Another step backwards.

He jabs a finger into my shoulder, making me wince. Vanilla notes mingle with something like burnt sugar and if I didn’t know better…I would think Shiloh was exuding pheromones. But a beta couldn’t do that.

“What?” He spits, getting even closer. The gold flecked hues are burning into me, like he’s trying to start a fire with his eyes. “Did I deserve it? Did I ask for it? Go on, Zale. Say it. Fucking say it .”

“We’re not doing this.” My back hits the shelves, and my bag slides off my shoulder to the floor with a clunk. Holding my hands up in defense, I try to shrink in on myself. I know I’m a big guy, and that can make people nervous or defensive but it doesn’t matter what I do, he’s looking for beef with me.

It’s the wrong thing to say as he straightens, his shoulders pulling back before he grabs my T-shirt in his fists. Our gazes lock, our breathing erratic and chests heaving as this tension between us continues to grow, swelling and expanding until it fills the space and I’m suffocating on it.

“Because you think I can’t stand up for myself?” He hisses, shoving against me with every other word. If we’re not careful, someone’s going to come and investigate the noises as he thrusts me against the bookcase again, making it rattle. “Because I’m a beta?”

Grabbing his wrists, I hold him still. Even though he’s never seemed fragile, it feels like I could snap his bones in my grip if I’m not careful with him. Gentle. Tender.

What. The. Fuck?

I wasn’t going to be tender to Shiloh Vos. The guy was a piranha who would strip my bones clean before he let me show him any kind of softness. Shaking my head, I try to push away the fog clouding my brain.

“No. Fuck! Because– stop pushing me – because I don’t want to fight with you!” I grip him tighter, pulling him against my chest so that there’s no room for him to keep shoving.

That isn’t enough to stop the little brat though, and somehow, he manages to free one of his hands, bringing it up to my throat. I can feel each of his fingers, burning into my skin like he’s searing a brand on me as he squeezes.

Neither of us says anything as we stand, wrapped up in one another. How did we get here? Breathing in each other’s air. Bodies pressed together as we both battle to get control of the situation. My thigh is pushed between his legs, and I try to pull away, but unless one of us concedes there’s no untangling the weird embrace we’re in.

Something in the back of my mind is niggling at me. I should punch him, force him back. But it’s like that hand on my neck is made of metal, shackling me in place as his face is barely inches away from mine. I grip him near his waist, locking him in place, stopping him from pushing me again but it brings our bodies flush with one another. It’s heady, this strange hold we have on one another as we share the same air.

If I flicked out my tongue now, I could lick his lips.

Not that I would.

That would be fucked up.

He’s my girlfriend’s brother.

My potential future brother-in-law.

He’s also rock fucking hard.

His cock is pressed against my leg as both of us refuse to move. Instead of my alpha nature rising, demanding to be in control, I swallow, intensely aware of the movement against his palm. Practically melting into him, I let my body relax. I don’t want to fight him. Rolling my hips without thinking, drawing a strange noise from both of us, I freeze.

What am I doing?

I need to get out of here, my mind spinning like my brain has been blitzed in a blender. With a slow exhale, I let go of his other wrist and the hand I’d placed on his hip, lifting both my hands in defeat.

The anger in his green eyes simmers away, and he blinks, long, dark lashes fluttering for a few moments before he shakes his head, making his messy curls bounce.

“Fuck.” I hear him whisper beneath his breath before he steps back.

And again.

Another step.

Another whispered expletive.

Before I can say anything, he quickly snaps up his bag and practically runs out of study space leaving me alone with my traitorous body.