Touch Me Knot

Chapter 1

Arabella

This cannot be happening…

The same four words, or some increasingly obstinate variation of them, roll through my mind on repeat as I force myself to keep walking through the pain and discomfort. The internally repeated denial only stops when my head starts to spin.

I stumble, my hand slapping against rough bricks as I catch myself on the wall.

It stings as my palm scrapes against the uneven surface, but it’s still preferable to face-planting the pavement.

A whimper of need and discomfort slips free as my scent perfumes around me.

I curl in on myself even more in shame despite the lack of an audience.

Waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass, I suck in an unsteady breath and then lean back against the wall while I check the map I’d brought up on my phone earlier. When I see the little dotted line that stretches out between me and the heat clinic, I groan.

How is it still so far away?

The only upside to my current situation is that the streets are practically empty at this hour, so at least there isn’t a crowd to witness this.

I’m such a mess.

On a normal day, with my scent blockers and suppressants, it wouldn’t be an issue for me to walk anywhere, let alone a distance I could usually walk in less than ten minutes.

I actually love walking, whether it’s around the local neighbourhood, to the nearest beach, or out in the countryside.

Sadly, I love it possibly even more than my little corgi does, considering the reluctance she has to step outside at the slightest hint of so much as a light drizzle.

That dog is truly, one hundred percent, a spoilt fluffy princess.

Right down to me having to hold out my umbrella over her while I get soaked. I smile at the memory of my sweet fur ball, thankful the joy brings me the tiniest sense of relief in this moment—even if it’s short-lived as another cramp overtakes me.

Despite my love of walking, right now every instinct I have is protesting this insanity. I should be somewhere safe, warm, and comfortable, not out in the open on the verge of my first heat since I started my suppressants four years ago.

I need a nest…

I sniffle as tears fill my eyes, feeling like I couldn’t possibly curl into myself any further.

My head hurts, my body aches, and all of my senses are in overdrive.

The streetlights and illuminated signs are too bright, and the occasional passing car sounds deafening.

Then there are the lingering scents. A blend of unfamiliar alphas, omegas, and betas that is sending my head spinning.

I’m queasy, almost ready to pass out from the disorienting combinations alone.

I’m beginning to regret letting it get to this point before admitting defeat and searching up the closest clinic for help. Maybe this would’ve been easier if I had simply given in sooner.

Much, much sooner.

What was I thinking?

At least my neighbour, Ruth, had taken my sweet Suki without any questions. I handed my confused dog over to the woman with a rushed plea to take care of her for a few days on my way out of the building.

I must have looked pretty terrible, standing there flushed, dressed in clothes I would never normally leave the house in, and smelling like heat.

I felt disgusting and awful, begging for her help in such a sorry state, but she’d agreed immediately, promising my baby would be safe while I got my shit together.

I can’t remember the pain and discomfort being this bad during my first heat. Sure, it had been an awful experience, one with an even worse aftermath, but I can’t remember feeling this physically wrecked from it.

Maybe that’s partly why I ignored my symptoms at first. I carried on as usual. I went to work and kept my head down while taking every single dose of my illegal suppressants and covering myself in scent-blocking sprays like my life depended on it.

When my omega scent returned and I had to slather myself in scent blockers just to leave my home, I passed it off as a weird side effect.

I naively assumed it must have been from taking them for too long without a break or that the only ones I could get my hands on simply weren’t ideal for me in some way.

It didn’t matter if I had to start using the scent blocker too, so long as the suppressant kept my heat from coming.

That's what I told myself, anyway.

When I’d begun to accept the truth, beyond the point of possible denial, I figured I could get through it alone.

It wouldn’t be fun or ideal, but it’s not like it would kill me.

I’d stock up and stay locked in my room for a few miserable days, attempting to ride out my heat with toys and a bottle of synthetic alpha pheromones to spray over my thrown-together nest.

Now, I’m not so sure about it not killing me.

Even in my preheat stage, it wasn’t enough. The knotting toys were useless, eventually tossed at the wall and broken in my frustration, and the synthetic pheromones made me vomit. Whoever put the words ‘a scent to fulfil any omega’s dreams’ on the bottle needs to be fired…out of a fucking cannon.

Talk about false advertising…

I feel tears stinging at my eyes, the hormone-induced emotional overwhelm clearly getting to me again. Ugh. I’m so totally fucked. And not in the satisfied, sexed-out way. I’m just doomed.

Everything aches. My underwear is already soaked, I smell like an adult shop selling sweet-scented lube, and my clothes itch against my skin. It’s so unbearable that I want to rip the fabric from my body and set it all on fire.

Fuck this. I wish I could scream at the unfairness of it all. Sink my tiny omega fangs into the universe itself and then tear its damn throat out for putting me into this situation—for making me this way.

For making me an omega.

A worthless, unwanted one at that.

Sadly, raging at the universe for being cruel won’t help me now. I need to get to the damn clinic before I lose all sense and start stripping in the street or something.

Taking a deep breath, I give one last look at the map. I make sure I know where I’m going, then tuck my phone back into my pocket and continue my slow, agonising journey.

Hopefully I can make it there with at least some of my dignity intact…