Knotty Pumpkin (Holidayverse #1)

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

“ S lutty pumpkin? Again? Really, Saylor?” Izzy asks as she enters the bathroom, her tone full of utter disbelief. Like she’s not reusing last year’s cat woman costume herself.

“It works. This gal needs some action tonight.” I shrug, keeping my eyes on the mirror while I blend my orange glitter eyeshadow.

The slutty pumpkin costume has never failed me before, matching perfectly with my pumpkin spice scent. The combination lets me have my pick of alpha men to take home. Tonight, the Linnara Lions—my university’s hockey team—are hosting an early Halloween bash to celebrate winning their first game of the season, the perfect excuse to dress up and let loose for the night.

Izzy snorts, her flaming red hair swishing in its high ponytail as she moves in beside me and opens her make-up bag, rummaging for the products she needs.

“You don’t need any help in that department, babe, you’re an omega. They all want to push your pussy to its limits, stuff their knots inside you.”

“Izzy!” I exclaim, swatting her on the arm. “God, you’re in fine form tonight.”

“You know it’s true.”

It is true. But the attention I receive from being an omega comes with downsides, too. Not all alphas are respectful. A lot of them take what they want, or think they’re entitled to claim me, just because I might have shown a tiny bit of interest or they like my scent. Like Luke.

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of him. Nope. Not going there tonight. He doesn’t deserve an inch of space in my memory. He’s in the past, and that’s where he’s going to stay. Not a chance I’m going to let thoughts of that mother fucker ruin my night. Taking a deep breath, I hold it for a beat, before blowing it out and packing up my make-up.

“Are you okay, Saylor? Your face just fell.” Of course my beta bestie notices the shift in my mood. She might not detect the way my scent just soured, but she’s got me pegged anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” I say, dancing away from the mirror and back toward my bedroom in search of my thigh-high boots. “My class load is heavy this semester. I really need to take a break and enjoy myself tonight.”

“Dance the night away until you’re dancing in someone’s sheets?” she calls from the bathroom.

“Exactly.” Izzy’s laughter tinkers from the bathroom, bringing a smile to my face. We’re due a night of fun. While I might have been deflecting, I’d spoken the truth about my workload. I took on an extra class this semester, hoping to get my degree completed that little bit faster. I’m still undecided on whether the extra pressure will be worth it.

Pulling on my boots and fastening the zipper up the back, I stand in front of my floor-length mirror, adjusting the poofy orange costume. A typical orange pumpkin, the ‘slutty’ aspect comes from the triangular cut outs across my breasts, supposed to represent the eyes but really just reveals the black lacy cup of my bra and the healthy swell of my breasts. The length of the dress adds to its name, barely covering my ass.

My long, dark-brown hair hangs straight over one shoulder. There isn’t much point in doing anything else with it. By the end of the night, I’ll be throwing it up in a high ponytail to get it out of my face.

“Ready to go?” I ask Izzy, popping my head back into the bathroom.

“Five minutes. Just got to get this wing right.”

“Great. I’ll grab a traveller.”

I make my way to the small kitchen of our two-bedroom apartment. It’s a cosy place, only a few blocks away from campus, the other tenants quiet and unobtrusive. It’s a much calmer environment than I experienced at my last school, and I say a silent prayer, forever grateful Izzy’s dad had been so willing to help me relocate and set up a safe home for his daughter and I when she insisted on coming with me.

Gods knows I need to feel safe these days, something I took for granted in the past.

Opening the fridge, I pull out a half-finished bottle of wine, as well as two sampler bottles of vodka just as Izzy declares, “Bitch, I’m ready. ”

She enters the kitchen, her cat eye on point and takes one of the vodkas from my outstretched hand.

“To a wild night.”

She twists the lid off the bottle, and I do the same, before we salute and down the contents of each. The alcohol burns its way down my throat, warming me from the inside, and I grin, tossing the bottle in the trash.

“To a wild night.”

Locking the door behind us, we make our way down the stairs and out into the cool night air. Thankful for the warmth still supplied by the vodka, I take a deep breath. I love this time of year.

By the time we reach the end of the street, we can hear the pounding thump, thump, thump of the music. The Lion’s house is only a block from ours, making for a quick, uneventful walk over.

Passing the bottle of wine between us, we quickly finish it as the house comes into view. There are students everywhere, some in costumes, some not.

“Come on, let's go dance,” I shout above the thumping music, grabbing Izzy’s hand. She laughs, taking a final swig of wine before dumping the bottle in a bucket by the door full of other empty cans and bottles.

Pushing through the crowd of drunken, costumed students, we make a beeline for the makeshift dance floor. The lights are low; the team having installed a strobe and some flashing-coloured bulbs.

The press of bodies and mix of varying scents is overwhelmingly heady, and I let myself fall into the rhythm of the night, my body swaying in time with the beat of the music. First with Izzy, then with an alpha whose scent is like that of a thunderstorm, fresh and electric. It’s not my favourite scent, but it is enticing, and he’s built like a brick wall, meaty and muscular.

He’ll do.

Seeking out Izzy, I see that she’s made her own match for the night. The two of them are locked in a passionate embrace, mouths fused together while their bodies grind against one another. I grin at my friend before taking the drink the alpha offers me and downing it in one gulp. His powerful arms wrap around my waist, and I let my body sink against his, my movements matching his as we continue to move with the music.

“Look at me, Omega.” The alpha barks between songs. I bristle at the command, but obey, my eyes instantly locking with his dull grey ones. Although my omega craves the touch of an alpha and the act of submitting, I don’t appreciate being told what to do.

He leans down, his eyes falling closed as he moves to kiss me. I freeze, his puckered lips seeming to move towards me in slow motion. Is this truly what I want? Some random alpha to fill the void within me?

The room spins, the alcohol I’ve consumed finally catching up with me, and I take a deep breath in through my nose to calm myself.

Mate.

The sweet, homey scent of toasted marshmallows assaults my senses, drowning out every other scent in the room.

Instinct drives me to find the source and I push away from the alpha whose lips are mere inches from mine, spinning on my heels. The world dips and spins as I take off, barely even hearing the growl from behind me as I run out the door chasing down the owner of that heavenly scent.

They can’t be far.

Mine.

My omega is screaming at me as I stagger slowly down the street, pushing through stray party goers as I move away from the frat party, following the indulgent scent. It calls to me on every level of my being, and I know I have to find the person it belongs to.

I weave down the sidewalk, unable to walk in a straight line.

Fuck, why did I drink so much?

My vision blurs as a second scent joins the first. Rich and creamy, the scent of the most decadent latte. My mouth waters and my core clenches at the combined scents, need consuming me and causing a haze of lust to fall over me.

Mates .

My body and mind can’t keep up as I struggle to stay on my feet and follow the two scents as the trail leads down an alley, two blurry figures not far ahead of me. It feels as if my life depends on reaching the alphas these scents belong to. It very well might. No other alpha, no other scent, has ever captured my attention like this. None will ever compare again.

As I stumble down the alleyway, the world tilts and I reach for the brick wall to steady myself. A third scent reaching me as I press my back to the wall, my stomach roiling at the unpleasant, musty smell.

The familiar scent of week-old dirty socks.

A scent I will never forget.

I try to focus on the alley as a dark, hazy figure comes in and out of focus, approaching me as that god awful scent grows stronger, engulfing me and bringing an assault of memories with it.

Trying to block them, shut them down, I gag as bile burns my throat. The figure crouches in front of me, his face finally coming into focus .

A face I never wanted to see again.

Luke is here.

My entire body tenses and sweat beads along my spine as genuine fear fills my chest, eliciting a pathetic whimper from me.

“You don’t look so well, Saylor. What a good thing I’m here. I found you.” His uneven, toothy grin is the last thing I see before the contents of my stomach come spilling out from me.