Knot The One They Want

Chapter 39: Two Butterflies

Lorali

The night sky looms above me, heavy and endless. I stop for a moment, tilting my head back to look at the stars scattered across the black canvas. They glimmer faintly, distant and untouchable, before I continue dragging the black trash bag across the floor, careful not to let it tear.

A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of the last time it ripped, I had to spend the entire night picking through my own garbage, hands raw and filthy. I swore I’d never let that happen again.

Finally, I reach the large green dustbin behind the building. This place is my treasure hub. I always find the best things here. Rich people throw away anything from clothes, food, furniture and things that still have life in them. To them it’s trash, but to me it’s treasure.

"Oh, isn’t this our Alma’s omega?"

The voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I whip my head around, and there she is, Astrid.

The girl from the elevator and the one I bumped into the other day. She stands tall in strappy heels, her short, tight leather dress clinging to her frame and a green plastic bag dangling from her hand filled with empty instant noodle containers.

"Hello to you too," I greet calmly, forcing politeness. I want to walk away, to ignore her, but that would be considered rude by Alma standards.

"Oh wow, you still remember my name. From how much you’ve been avoiding me, I thought you thought I was a stranger." Astrid smiles, tossing her trash into the bin with a careless flick.

"I never got to ask your name last time we met. Do you mind telling me now?" She tilts her head, eyes curious.

I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Lorali Alma." I keep it short, leaving no room for conversation.

"Lorali? That’s a nice name." She chuckles, her smile bright. "Do you need help with that?" She points to the heavy black bag at my feet.

"Nope. I’ll be fine." I refuse, bending to lift it myself.

"Oh, just accept my help." She scoffs, suddenly grabbing the other side of the bag. Together, we toss it into the bin. freёweɓnovel.com

"Thanks," I mumble begrudgingly. It’s not like I asked for her help.

"No problem." She waves me off with another smile.

I get lost in that smile for a moment. I don’t understand why, I don’t like this girl or rather more specifically I don’t understand why I don’t like being in her presence.

It’s not hatred, it’s something else. There is always a tug at my heart, a sharp ache that makes it hurt to look at her. I can’t pinpoint why.

"So, I guess life isn’t treating you well in that pack," she says suddenly, caution dripping from her tone.

I don’t reply and neither do I meet her eyes.

"I was shocked when you said you were becoming Pack Spade’s second omega. Walter doesn’t strike me as the type to allow another omega into his pack." She sighs, folding her arms across her waist.

"It’s not just Walter. That whole pack is crazy," I whisper, but she’s close enough to hear.

"You know, you’re an Alma’s omega, bitch. You don’t have to put up with whatever shit they’re making you do. Just leave."

I laugh at her words, even though I know they come from pity and concern. "Leave? If only it was that easy." My laugh is hollow, dripping with the pain of my condition.

Astrid falls silent, her eyes locked on me.

"If you can’t leave, you might as well make the prison you’re stuck in comfortable," she murmurs, turning her gaze to the sky above us. "Life is what we make of it."

Her words hang in the air for a couple of minutes before she peels her eyes away from the stars and back to me, flashing another smile.

"Alright, I should go. But if you ever need someone to talk to, or if you want to hit the litest parties where you can get down and free yourself from the shackles of your designation, you know where to find me."

She walks away, her heels clashing against the pavement, echoing into the night.

"By ’you know where to find me,’ I meant the floor right beneath yours, in case you forgot!" she yells, her voice carrying as she runs off into the distance.

Only now do I realize why I feel that sharp surge of pain whenever I see her, why her presence unsettles me, why I cannot bring myself to like her. It is because we are both butterflies but she is free to spread her wings, to fly wherever she pleases, to bask in the sunlight and be herself without restraint.

Meanwhile, I am trapped and will forever be confined in a cage made of air, invisible yet unbreakable, a prison I can never escape.

That is the truth.

That is why I recoil from her brightness, why her smile cuts into me like a blade. She embodies everything I cannot have, everything I once dreamed of but lost. She is freedom, and I am captivity. She is flight, and I am stillness.

This is why I don’t like her.

This is why I never will.

Torin

It’s late, around two in the morning, when we finally return to the penthouse. Oracle had to be carried in from the car, his body limp and his face a ruin of bruises and blood. Walter insisted he should be taken to the hospital, but Oracle refused, muttering some nonsense about how "the burden is his to bear."

"Put him on the couch," Oril orders, flicking the light switch. The penthouse floods with warm illumination, revealing the full extent of the damage on Oracle’s face.

The sight is brutal. Oril and Oracle look like twins in their beaten state, though Oracle is far worse off, his face swollen, his lip split, his nose crooked, blood smeared across his skin. He hadn’t fought back when I hit him, hadn’t even tried to dodge.

Oril, on the other hand, had fought back, and now he looks like Augi after one of his infamous brawls: a busted lip, a cracked nose, a black eye. He isn’t nearly as bloody as Oracle, but the defiance in him had been clear. He wanted us both to walk away with matching black eyes. The blow he landed on me is nothing compared to the ones I landed on him.

"Oril. My study. Now." My voice is sharp and commanding. I don’t wait for his reply. I turn and climb the stairs to my office, knowing he will follow. We leave the others tending to Oracle, their hushed voices fading behind us.

"Close the door," I order once we’re inside. I lean against the rim of my wooden desk, watching him as he obeys my order by shutting the door quietly, before he folds his hands behind his back, standing like a child awaiting reprimand.

"I am beyond disappointed in you, Oril. I expected this stupidity from my mother, from Augi, Kei, even Oracle, but never from you."

Oril bites the inside of his cheek, his eyes fixed on the floor, refusing to meet mine.

"Have you anything to say for yourself? Or would you prefer another beating to somehow rationalize what you’ve done?"

"There is no way what happened can be rationalized," he murmurs, his voice low with nerves dripping from it. His foot taps against the floor, restless. "And I can’t tell you how it happened because... because I wasn’t there for most of it."

I narrow my eyes. "Let me guess. You were at the music studio while this pack was slowly decaying from the inside."

He remains silent proving I am right.

I sigh, pressing my hand to my forehead. "How many times must I tell you, Oril? Let go. That studio is consuming you. You cling to a past that will never return, and in doing so, you neglect your present."

"Would you let go of Spade, even though you see it’s consuming you?" he mutters, his head still bowed and eyes glued to the ground.

"I am prepared to give everything for Spade. You are not prepared to give everything for your music career. You’re trying to have it all." My voice hardens as I turn my back to him.

"I too am willing to give everything for my career, Torin. I just want to sing." His voice trembles, and he lifts a hand to wipe away what I suspect are tears.

"Even Walter. Is he part of ’everything’?" I sigh, knowing the answer before I ask. Oril doesn’t have the guts to give up Walter. As expected, he remains silent. "This is the difference between you and me," I continue, my voice dire. "I’ll give anything for Spade. I’m not trying to have it all. Hence, I’m willing to even give up Lorali, my fated mate, for Spade." I say turning back to face him.

Oril’s head snaps up, his eyes locking onto mine. Shock floods his face. "Fated mate? Lorali is your fated mate!"

"Yes." I nod calmly, my voice steady. "I was just as surprised when I found out. At the gala."

"The gala?!" Oril’s eyes widen, disbelief etched across his features. "You’ve known since the gala?"

I nod again, unflinching.

"That was why you went on that business trip? It was to avoid her?" His voice cracks, incredulous.

"Yes. I’m sure she knows I’m her fated. I think that’s why she chose us."

"So, you and Oracle share the same mate?" Oril asks, his voice trembling, more nervous than mine.

"Yeah but the Oracle thing, I only found that out today as well."

"This is insane. What are you going to do with her?" His question hangs in the air.

"Because I’m not you, Oril, and I’m not trying to have it all. I know I can never truly have a mate bond with her. I can only use her to fix the disaster you all caused." My words Oril frowns at my words and is confusion etched across his face. "I’m going to be a good mate. I’m going to win her love so she doesn’t leave the pack, take us to court, or die. Because any of those outcomes will destroy Spade."

Oril stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. "Torin... how long are you going to keep up this act?"

"As long as I must," I reply coldly. "I need this girl to have a good impression of the pack before she even thinks of leaving, and that’s if she ever leaves at all. Lorali is important to the future of Spade."

"And what if, during all this time of acting, you fall in love and lose yourself to her, she is your fated afterall?" he warns, his voice serious while his eyes search mine.

I laugh mocking his concern. "I will never love Lorali Alma. You can relax. All you need to do and everyday else is be on your best behavior. We have until Vanya’s engagement to change her impression of us."

"Walter won’t change," Oril mutters, defiance flickering in his tone. "And I won’t force my omega to do something for yours."

"I don’t expect Walter to change. That would arouse suspicion. I just want the rest of you to get your act together. Do you understand?"

Oril hesitates, then finally nods. "I understand."