Knot The One They Want

Chapter 18: First Aid

Walter

I cannot believe I am offering a helping hand to the omega who plotted to ruin my life. My fingers clench tightly around the first aid kit, my knuckles whitening, as if the box itself is the only anchor keeping me steady.

Her face looks worse than when I stormed out earlier. It’s swollen, red and grazed. Yurena must have hit her again.

The thought of Yurena striking her fills me with unease leaving a strange twist in my chest that I can’t quite put my finger on. It must be my brotherly, big‑omega heart. Yes, that’s all it is. Nothing else.

"Sit," I say, motioning with my head toward the kitchen stool. She hesitates, lips parting like she wants to speak, but she swallows it down, choosing silence. She lowers herself onto the nearest stool, head bowed, shoulders tight.

I move closer, cautious before taking the chair beside her. "It must hurt," I murmur, opening the first aid box, pulling out numbing cream. My mind rebels at the action, what am I doing? I could have just handed her the cream and walked away. That would have been simple, rational. But no. For some odd reason, I want to do it myself.

"Stay still. This may sting." fгeewebnovёl.com

I don’t expect her to answer as I lean on her face, my fingertips brushing across her cheek as I rub the cream gently into her skin. The moment my hand touches her, it feels as though fire spreads through me, setting every nerve ablaze. My breath hitches, and hers does too. She shuts her eyes with her fists clenching tight against her lap.

The things I’m feeling inside me, this heat, this pull, I only ever feel it with Augi and Oril. I don’t even feel this way with Kei, Oracle, and most definitely not Torin. So what makes her different? She isn’t my fated mate. She isn’t my scent match. At least, I don’t think so. I can’t smell her scent, not clearly, but even if I could, the chances are low. Wouldn’t she know? Wouldn’t she tell me she’s my scent match since she can smell me?

"Y... you do this a lot?" she asks, stammering, her ears bright red. The sight is unexpectedly cute. I smile inwardly, startled by the softness of it. Hard to believe this shy little thing is capable of the atrocities Yurena believes she is.

"Mhm," I answer softly. "One of my mates, Augi, is always getting into fights. He comes back with new injuries every time he goes out, and he hates hospitals, so I tend to him myself. I’ve gotten better over the years." I offer her a small smile.

I finish applying the cream and place the tube in her hands. "I’m sorry for what Yurena did. She isn’t a bad person. She just cares a lot about me, and she probably blamed you for me running off earlier."

A small smile curves at the corner of her lips. "Yurena. That’s her name," she whispers, so softly I almost miss it but I catch it as I press a heart‑shaped bandage over the graze on her cheek. "And your name is Lorali, right?" I ask, pulling back slightly. She nods.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lorali. I’m sorry about earlier. I succumbed to my emotions, this is all a lot for me to handle at the time."

I slide off the kitchen stool, kit in hand, offering her one last smile before turning away. "Do you hate me?"

Her words stop me dead in my tracks. My chest tightens. I do hate her. Or at least, I want to. I was so ready to hate her before I met her, so ready to give her hell. But now... now I cannot even bring myself to hate her completely. Not truly.

"I don’t know yet," I say, voice low, not daring to look back. And then I walk out of the kitchen.

I really hope this plays out well. I should speak to Yurena, the violence she’s using on the girl is excessive, even for her.

I step into my room, my sanctuary. Bright white walls gleam under the soft light, the large bed with its elegant headboard dominating the space. The wall behind it is a mural I painted myself, a sprawling garden field from my grandmother’s countryside home. I loved visiting that place when I was young, and I miss it still. Painting it here makes me feel closer to it, as if I can step into memory whenever I wish.

I love my mural. It is second only to my vases in this world.

My nest, in stark contrast to the colorful wall, is pure white with duvets and blankets circling the bed’s edge giving it a simple, elegant, and classy touch. Just the way I like it.

I sit on the edge of my bed, eyes fixed on Oril as he paces up and down the hall like a restless predator. His chest is bare, muscles taut, six‑pack gleaming under the soft light. Even after all this time together, the sight of him still makes my pulse quicken, giving me a hard on. The man turns me on without even trying.

He finishes his pacing with a sharp exhale, and I return the first aid kit to the small white cardboard table near my bed, watching him collapse into my nest. He throws himself down with a heavy sigh, resting his head on my high.

"What happened? You seem stressed," I ask, brushing my fingers lightly through his hair.

"Augi got arrested again," Oril mutters, defeated, pressing his hand to his forehead. "Apparently he fought with some guy on the street after the guy called him homeless."

My jaw drops. "Didn’t he just get released this morning?" The audacity of this man is insane. Not even twenty‑four hours out of a cell, and he’s already back in one.

"So are you going to get him?" I ask, fingers combing gently through his hair, trying to soothe him.

"No. I can’t do anything right now. Torin still isn’t answering his phone, and Oracle is MIA in his room. He has it locked and isn’t coming out."

Oracle. That’s odd. He’s here, yet I haven’t seen him since I came back. It’s not like him to be this quiet. Did something happen while we were out? ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"He’ll have to wait until tomorrow before we bail him out," I sigh, though the words taste bitter. I’m worried for Augi, even though I know he’s safer in that cell than out in the world where fights find him like shadows.

"I don’t think Oracle is going to pay the bail this time," Oril says, voice heavy. "He was furious earlier when he did it, and with Torin MIA, there’s no one to force him to get Augi out. And obviously, neither of us nor Kei can do it, we aren’t lawyers, and we aren’t good with words to convince these people to drop their cases." He exhales sharply. "He’s probably going to be in jail for much longer this time."

"No way." I flick his forehead, earning a groan. "I’ll get Oracle out of that room and make him bail Augi out. He can’t just leave him there. Augi’s been through so much these past six years. He’s in pain. I believe that with enough love, all will be well."

Oril smiles faintly, eyes closing. "I’m sure you’ll be able to convince him. He has a soft spot for you. Your problem won’t be convincing him, it’ll be getting that door open." He yawns, sinking deeper into the nest, and I know he’s right. The hardest part will be dragging Oracle out of his self‑imposed exile.

"Yoh, stop hogging my mate. It’s time for dinner."

Kei’s voice booms suddenly from the doorway, his presence filling the room. He leans against the frame, smirking, arms crossed.

"He was my mate before he was yours," Oril shoots back, not even bothering to look at him.

"And that’s why I had to swoop in and save the day," Kei chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief. "Because your ass alone would bore our omega to death."

"Oh, whatever, Kei," Oril counters, rolling his eyes.

Kei ignores him, extending his hand toward me with a grin. "Come, my boy wonder. Let’s have dinner. Then we can get to the dessert part, I’m feeling for something creamy today." He winks, and my cheeks flush instantly. I know exactly what he means by dessert.