Page 46 of Knot Her Goal


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That’s when we started falling apart. Without that hope, I don’t know. None of us knew what to do.

When we couldn’t sway Ronan, we all tried to fix it in our own ways. Archer launched himself into his research and endless lectures. Theo signed up for every online omega-alpha dating service in the universe and went on more blind dates than anyone I knew.

And I…

Fucked everything up even more.

This time, the ball grazes my nose before I pluck it out of the air. And not a second too soon because my door suddenly flies open, and Theo charges, whooping like an oversized baboon.

He crashes onto the bed, belly flopping next to my feet and talking a mile a minute. It’s clear from the grin stretched over his face that their evening went well. I don’t let myself tune in enough to hear the details he spews. I lob the ball at his head to shut him up, but he just catches the damn thing and keeps talking.

Archer appears in the doorway. He leans against the doorjamb, his expression completely unrecognizable.

Who the fuck is this person? Dr. Archer Monroe is a serious guy. He doesn’t smile like a moony asshole with stars in his eyes.

As soon as our gazes meet, the happiness drains off his face. A hard resolve I’ve never seen before takes its place. “I need one of your shirts.”

Of all the things to ask me for, that one throws me. I jerk upright. “A what?”

“A shirt. Or I guess some sweats would work just as well.”

There’s an unyielding quality to him. I don’t know what to do with it. My alpha instincts tell me to challenge him, duke it out. But he seems ready to actually fight me. And I honestly don’t know if I want to punch my packmate in the face over a request I don’t even understand.

“For. What?” I bite out, kicking Theo off my mattress. He rolls to the wood floor with a loud thud, still chattering on.

Archer stares me down. “I’m collecting clothing from each of us. For Meg.”

Theo hops up and races out of the room the same way he zoomed in, shouting something about a hoodie for “his precious peach.”

Dear God. They want to give her their shit? For what? There’s only one reason why she would want our clothing. And there’s no way that’s happening.

“No.” I glare. “Fuck no.”

Archer doesn’t blink. “It isn’t what you think. We’re not building her a nest. Yet.”

My head is already shaking before he finishes. He shrugs. “If you don’t like it, take it up with Ronan.”

I hate how he does that. The two of them formed the pack together. Why does he defer to Ronan even when our pack alpha is being an asshole? Which is most of the time.

Arguing with Ronan is pointless. We’re both too stubborn. Archer is easier. So I fire back, “No way. I’m not giving you my clothes. It’s you guys she likes, anyway. I’m sure she’ll be fine with your stuff for whatever weird omega bullshit she wants.”

The flash of anger in his eyes is visible from across the room. “She didn’t ask. She actually seems very uncomfortable with a lot of her omega urges. She did, however, specifically ask about you multiple times tonight. Do you know how hard it was to watch her face every time she remembered that you refuse to even meet her properly? For God’s sake, Declan, we’ve been looking for the perfect omega forever, and she’s here. She likes us. She wants to know you. Why can’t you give this a chance? What is wrong with you?”

Everything.

I only have two talents… and I’m better at losing people than I’ve ever been at football. I guess I’d have a trophy for that, too, if they made one.

“You can’t have my shit,” I say with finality, turning away. “Now get out.”

Archer’s footsteps stride off. They sound agitated. Before I even finish glaring at the wall, I hear heavy, measured thumps approaching, along with the scent of smoke.

Ronan.

Right now his smoky smell is devoid of any trace of pleasantness, leaving a choking, ticklish feeling in my lungs every time I pull it in. Our alpha pauses in the open door, waiting for me to turn. But I don’t. Can’t, on some level.

Finally, he says, “The three of us are scent-sensitive to Meg. We’ve all agreed to court her. She’s coming to dinner here on Sunday night, after your game.”

No questions. No concern. Just pure, powerful Ronan. As per usual.

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