Knot The One They Want

Chapter 8: Ranks

Oracle Pov

"How are we supposed to know who Loreli is if everyone is wearing a veil?" Augi leans against the wall, popping a grape into his mouth like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I hate my life right now. This is a big, important event, even without the Omega part, and I should be out there talking, making valuable connections, building our name back up. Instead, I’m stuck babysitting grown men who act like children. Torin left me in charge because he can’t trust these bozos not to embarrass him. And honestly, I understand why. I wouldn’t trust them with a bag of candy, let alone our pack’s reputation.

"I think we should just make a bad impression on all Alma’s girls," Oril mutters, crossing his arms as he watches the Omegas preparing for their third dance. The dais is empty, the pink‑haired star nowhere to be found, and the crowd is restless.

"Well, it’s a little too late for that. Torin already danced with one of them," Kei sighs, bored, sipping his apple juice like it’s wine.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Where is he anyway? He disappeared after that dance." Augi pops another grape into his mouth, chewing loudly.

"He’s probably out there talking business. That’s all he cares about. He probably forgot all about us," Kei drones.

I roll my eyes, moving away from the wall. At the end of the third dance, the crowd erupts in gasps. The first Omega from Alma has made a choice. She removes her veil and wraps it around Yorin’s wrist who was the same man from earlier. She isn’t the first Omega tonight to unveil, but she is the first Alma Omega, and that makes the room tilt.

Heads turn, whispers ripple, and people swarm to congratulate them. Half of those smiling faces will still try to call upon her for their pack before the night ends. Hypocrites.

Suddenly, someone bumps into me from behind. "So... sorry."

I turn, and at my chest stands a small, white‑veiled Omega. My heart pounds against my ribs, hard and fast. What is happening? Am I about to have a stroke? A heart attack?

She moves to the side, trying to slip past me. My chest sinks at the thought of her leaving without a word. Without thinking, definitely not my brightest moment, I reach out. My hand catches her veil instead of her hand. It slips free, falling from her face. She freezes, her back stiffening, her short shoulder‑length hair exposed.

"Dude, what did you do?" Augi exclaims, his voice too loud.

"Umm, I’m sorry, it was a mistake. I didn’t mean to pull it, I didn’t mean to do this, I’m so sorry," I ramble, fumbling to give the Omega her veil back, even though deep down I want to keep it.

"It’s fine. It was going to your pack at some point," she says meekly, her voice soft, before walking off into the crowd. In seconds, she’s gone, swallowed by the sea of tall Alphas.

"Shit," I mutter, crunching the veil in my hand. I didn’t even get her name. I didn’t even see her face.

"Not you being the one to fuck up after being on our backs the whole night," Kei cackles behind me, his laugh sharp and ugly like a hyena. I want to wrap this veil around my knuckles and punch him, but I can’t. Too many eyes are watching.

"Pass me the veil. I’ll give it to some Alpha here," Oril says, reaching out his hand.

"No. I’ll do something about it. You just mind your business," I snap, clutching the veil to my chest, shoving my annoying brother away.

Before he can challenge me further, a ruckus rises from the far end of the hall near the patio doors. The crowd parts, clearing space. The pink‑haired Omega, unveiled now, walks hand in hand with Torin.

What the fuck did Torin do?

They separate. The Omega rejoins her companions, while Torin for the first time tonight comes straight to us.

"What was that? And don’t tell me you have her veil," I say, keeping my voice low, wary of prying ears. freewebnovel.cσ๓

"No, I do not. We just happened to come in at the same time," he replies smoothly.

"Why do you have a veil?" he asks, pointing at the one clenched in my hand.

"Long story. I’ll explain it on our way home."

Torin nods, giving me that look, the one that says, it better not be bad.

The party drags on. Hours pass. Four, maybe more. By the time it’s well past midnight, almost all the Omegas have lost their veils. They look exhausted, drained from endless dancing, their faces pale beneath the lights.

After the closing dance, we are ushered out of the manor, the Omegas long gone, leaving only the echo of music and the weight of choices made.

Lorali Pov

"I danced with a king, and he was so sweet. He didn’t have that arrogant air most of those Alphas carry," Cleo gushes, squealing as she jumps onto Ella’s bed before collapsing in exhaustion among the mountain of plushies. Her laughter fills the room, high‑pitched and giddy, echoing against the dorm walls.

"You legit got the best match out of all of us. I didn’t get anyone. Apparently no Alpha wants a scentless Omega," Susie sulks, rolling defeatedly across my carpet like a child throwing a tantrum, her hair spilling across her face as she groans dramatically. frёewebηovel.cѳm

"I’m sure there’s a pack out there waiting for you. Don’t stress yourself out," Vanya comforts her, snuggling one of Ella’s plushies and burying herself beneath my blankets, her voice muffled but warm.

"Easy for you to say. The pack that was all over you is political. They’re running for presidency of this country. If they win, you’ll be first lady."

"That’s only if I choose them."

"What?! You have to choose them. They’re perfect!" Susie stops rolling and shoots daggers at Vanya. The tension between them is sharp, strange, almost electric.

"Lori, Ella, you two haven’t spoken a peep since the gala. What happened?" Cleo points out, glancing back and forth between us, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.

Ella doesn’t acknowledge her. She just sits on the windowsill, staring out into the night, her profile silhouetted by the moonlight.

"Well... we saw something in the gardens. You know that diplomat who danced with Ella, he–"

"He jumped into the lake and drowned himself," Ella interrupts flatly, her tone clipped.

I blink at her, startled. That’s not what happened. But I nod anyway. "Yeah, what Ella said." I don’t know why she’s lying, but I might as well back her up. Maybe she doesn’t want to ruin her chances of finding a good pack. If people think she’s traumatized, they might hesitate.

"Oh, that’s... something," Vanya says, breaking the silence, her voice uncertain.

"Is this a bad time to say I didn’t like him? He was slimy," Susie mutters, still rolling on the carpet, her voice muffled against the rug.

"I didn’t like him either. I didn’t even want to dance with him, but I couldn’t say no. It would have made me look bad," Ella says, finally closing the window and stepping away, her movements sharp.

"You guys shouldn’t let his death bother you. We have a bright future ahead of us, and today is a day to be happy." Cleo claps her hands together, her energy cutting through the heaviness. "Let’s rank packs." She leaps off Ella’s bed, grabs the pack file from the vanity, and spreads the papers across the carpet like cards in a game.

"Are we seriously doing this?" Vanya asks, her voice skeptical.

"Yes, first lady, we are indeed doing it," Cleo teases, her grin mischievous.

"Pack Titan. Seriously? They have nothing in this file except that they live on the other side of the world. Who even is this pack? How did they get in here? No picture of their leader, no details. Nonsense. They should be in the Institution Omega’s file, not ours." Cleo crumples the paper and tosses it perfectly into the bin, her aim flawless.

"Pack Crimson, they’re the ones who wore those ugly neon ties. I vote we rank them last for their terrible fashion sense."

We all burst into laughter, agreeing that no amount of money could save that fashion disaster.

"Next... Pack Spade. I’m reading they already have an Omega. Greedy Alphas looking for two Omegas. How will they even handle it if both go into heat at the same time? And those red bowties they wore ridiculous. Nonsense pack. I say we rank them second to last."

"Agreed. I hate packs that two‑time," Vanya says firmly.

"No, you can’t rank them second to last. They’re a good pack," I blurt, my voice hitching. I slide off my bed and shuffle quickly to Cleo. "I danced with their head, and he was nice. Plus, Headmistress Cleovera told me their Omega also wants another Omega in the house." I defend them fiercely, my fated mates I hardly know. I can’t let Cleo bury them at the bottom of the list.

"Don’t be stupid, Lori. There’s no way an Omega would willingly share his or her mates. I can’t imagine sharing Yorin and his pack, and I haven’t even bonded with him yet," Cleo says, lowering her hand toward the Crimson file.

I lunge, grabbing her hand before she can place it down. "Dude, they’re my fated. You can’t rank them second to last. Please, just think of it as if there is no other Omega, since their Omega agreed to me coming anyway." My voice rises, frustration spilling out, my chest tight.

"Seriously? You found your fated? You’re so lucky!" Vanya shrieks from the bed, her voice filled with awe.

"Fine. I’ll hold off on their ranking because they’re your fated mates, and I know what that feels like." Cleo smiles shyly, setting Pack Spade’s file aside.

"Wait, are you fated to Yorin and his pack?" I ask, my voice rising with surprise.

She nods, her ears blushing pink, her smile soft.

"That’s great!" I say, hugging her tightly, my heart swelling.

"You both got your fateds. I’m so jealous," Susie exclaims, rolling again, her voice muffled by the carpet.

We all laugh at her childish antics, everyone except Ella, who is buried beneath her duvet, lost in her nest of plushies. I really hope she’s alright.

"Though I’m happy for you, Lori, do you think you can handle living with another Omega?" Cleo asks, pushing out of my hug, her eyes serious.

"Yeah," I shrug. "It can’t be that hard. I live with you guys."

"You know it’s different. What if their Omega doesn’t like you?"

"I’ll work hard for him to like me. As long as I’m not mistreated, I’ll be okay. My temper is too short to suffer quietly. If I suffer in that pack, everyone will suffer. I don’t believe in keeping my mouth shut and suffering alone."

"Do you think you’ll be able to handle being a queen? All those royal duties and customs. I wonder if it’s like the movies, where you have to battle the mother‑in‑law queen dowager."

"I can definitely handle being a queen. Alma made sure of that. I still remember all those etiquette classes."

Cleo laughs, her voice light. "Alma’s etiquette classes were torture. I still have shivers thinking about them."