Knot the One They Want (Claimverse Book 1)

Regret sits like a stone in my chest as I stare blankly at the sterile white walls of the hospital corridor. Lake paces restlessly, his brow furrowed with worry. Cole, usually a pillar of strength, looks utterly defeated. Even Damien’s icy mask has slipped. I’ve never seen him look so guilty. So afraid.

It’s been an hour. Sixty goddamn minutes of not knowing if Evie’s going to make it.

I can’t get the image out of my head. Evie on the bathroom floor, pale as a ghost, her lips blue. Fuck. I dig my nails into my palms, welcoming the sting. It’s nothing compared to what she’s going through.

How could I be so stupid? I should’ve told Damien to go fuck himself when he came up with this idiotic plan. But no, I went along with it like a fucking coward.

Lake squeezes my shoulder. I know he’s hurting too, but right now, I can barely look at him. Or any of them. We’re all in this shit together.

Three of us, at least. I can’t say what Damien is feeling right now. I really don’t care. I don’t blame him for his actions as much as I blame myself for going along with them.

‘Hear anything?’ Lake asks, nodding at the door.

I strain my ears since I’m closer to it, pressing against the unyielding wood of Evie’s room, but only the muffled sounds of medical staff and equipment reach me. I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak.

Cole loses it. He gets right in Damien’s face, jabbing a finger at his chest. ‘This is on you, you piece of shit! Your fucked-up plan to chase her away. Look what you’ve done!’

Damien’s eyes flash, a cold blue fire, but he doesn’t retreat. His jaw clenches, the muscles ticking beneath his skin. ‘I never forced any of you. You all agreed⁠—’

‘Shut up,’ I snap. They all turn to me, surprised. ‘Just shut the fuck up. We’re all to blame here.’ I meet each of their gazes in turn, holding up a mirror to our collective guilt. ‘Every single one of us bit her. Made a promise. And each of us chose not to follow through, regardless of whether it was Damien’s idea.’

The truth settles over us like a shroud, heavy and suffocating. Damien flinches as if I’ve struck him, his shoulders curving inward. For once, the great Damien Blackwood looks small. Vulnerable. Human.

Lake’s voice is a whisper, barely audible above the hum of the fluorescent lights. ‘Asher’s right. We’re all to blame. She’s our omega. Our responsibility. And she could have died tonight because of our neglect.’

The words hang in the air, a noose tightening around our necks. Because of us. Because we let our pride and bitterness blind us to what truly matters.

‘She still might,’ I breathe, giving voice to the fear that haunts us all.

Cole snarls, a wounded animal backed into a corner. ‘No. She’s not going to die.’ His voice cracks, fractures, the broken shards embedding themselves in my heart. ‘She can’t.’

But she can.

We did this to her. We broke her trust, her heart. And now we’re standing here like useless idiots while she fights for her life.

I lean against the door, closing my eyes. I want to cry, to scream, to break something. But I don’t deserve that release.

None of us do.

Please, Evie. Please be okay. The prayer echoes in my mind, a desperate plea to a universe that feels cold and unforgiving. We need you. I need you.

My words hang in the air, a vow and a challenge all at once. ‘If we get another chance…’ I swallow hard, my throat tight. ‘If Evie makes it through this, I’m claiming her. As my mate. Properly this time. If she even wants me after all this.’

The silence is deafening. I half expect Cole to lash out, to snarl that I have no right. That none of us do. But instead, his voice is a quiet echo of my own. ‘Yeah. Me too.’

I look at Cole, surprised.

Lake nods, his eyes red-rimmed. ‘I’m with you both. Evie deserves better than what we’ve given her. If she’ll still have me after all this, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her.’

Three united fronts. Three alphas ready to lay down their pride for their omega. It’s not much, but it’s a start. A tiny spark of hope in this nightmare.

But Damien’s still the wild card. I look at him, trying to read his face. He’s stone-cold, giving nothing away.

The silence drags on, broken only by the hospital noises filtering through the door. Each second feels like forever.

Come on, Damien. Say something. Anything. Don’t leave us hanging. Not now. Not with everything on the line.

But before he can speak, the door opens. My heart leaps into my throat, lodging there like a stone. The doctor steps out, his face grim, and I brace myself for the worst.

Lake practically lunges at him. ‘How is she? Is Evie going to be okay?’

The doctor hesitates, his eyes flicking over our ragtag group. I can only imagine what he sees. What he thinks of us. Four alphas who let our omega get into such a sorry state without even noticing.

He’s right to judge us. We deserve worse.

‘She’s stable for now,’ he finally says. ‘We’ve started her on IV antibiotics for the infection. She tried treating it herself, with over-the-counter stuff.’ His voice is sharp, accusing. ‘But that was never going to be enough. Not for this. It’s far more serious than a simple infection.’

Shame burns through me like acid. We should’ve been there. Should’ve seen the signs, heard her silent cries for help. But we were too caught up in our own bullshit to notice.

‘She knew?’ Lake chokes out. ‘She was dealing with this alone?’

The meaning is clear. Evie knew she was sick, and she didn’t ask for help. Didn’t feel safe enough to come to us.

I thought I felt like shit before, but this… this is a whole new level of failure.

The doctor’s eyes narrow. ‘Do you four have any idea what an incomplete mating mark can do to an omega?’

The question hangs there, heavy as lead. I swallow hard, guilt twisting my guts. We did this. We marked her, claimed her, then left her to suffer alone.

Cole tenses beside me, a low growl building in his chest. I can feel the rage and guilt pouring off him in waves. But underneath, I sense the same sick dread that’s eating me alive.

We don’t know. Not really.

The doctor’s voice drips with disgust. ‘Incomplete bonds are toxic. A completed mark heals fast, but an incomplete one? It’s like an open wound, prone to infection. It poisons an omega’s system, slowly at first, but with increasing severity over time.’

Every word is another nail in the coffin of my conscience. Toxic. Poison. That’s what we’ve done to Evie, the omega we were given to cherish and protect.

‘But it’s not just the physical,’ the doctor continues. ‘A mating mark isn’t just a physical mark. It’s a transfer of energy. The alpha places his energy into the omega with a mating bite, and then, once the union is… consummated, he offers his seed as well—his energy—sealing the bond permanently. Offering his protection, his provision. If there are unresolved issues, those can be transferred energetically through the mating bite.’

‘What?’ Lake asks, his eyes blown wide with the confusion we all feel.

The doctor sighs, running a hand through his hair. ‘The research is… controversial,’ he says uncomfortably. ‘But cases like this prove it has merit. There’s still much about omega biology we don’t fully understand, things our studies haven’t quite caught up to, but the old traditions so many of you younger alphas dismiss as unscientific hold true. Omegas are a gift to any pack. Meant to hold and soothe and transmute an alpha’s chaotic energy and aggression into something manageable. Something productive. Any large alpha pack without an omega should be proof enough of that.’

I breathe a laugh, but it’s a dry, humorless sound. He’s right. We’re monsters without an omega to rein in our baser impulses. That much is clear to me now.

‘A mating bond is meant to be a two-way street,’ he adds. ‘Mutually beneficial. In exchange for holding an alpha’s energy, the omega receives protection. Nurturing. Care. What do you think happens when such a delicate, complex creature receives all that negative, toxic energy without the other half of that equation to balance it out?’

‘So we poisoned her,’ Lake says, his voice cracking.

At least Lake and I feel the same. I have no clue what’s going on with Damien anymore.

‘In a way, yes,’ the doctor says bluntly. He’s not pulling any punches, and he shouldn’t.

‘Damien’s mark was the worst,’ Cole says accusingly, glaring at our leader.

Damien’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t defend himself.

‘Mine was almost as bad,’ Lake admits, shaking his head. ‘My pain, my self-loathing over Daria… it’s like Evie absorbed it all.’

‘Omegas are given the extraordinary ability to bear a pack’s burdens,’ the doctor says, his tone softening slightly. ‘But they must be properly sheltered and cared for in return. Unfortunately, you’re learning that the hard way.’

‘What’s going to happen to her?’ I ask, steeling myself for the answer even though deep down, I know if she’s not okay, I’m not going to be able to live with myself. No amount of bracing myself will make it better.

‘It’s still touch and go right now,’ he says carefully. ‘But like I said, she’s stable for the moment. She’s otherwise young and healthy, and I have no reason to doubt that the antibiotics will heal the physical infection in time. But the energetic concerns remain.’

‘We’ll fix it,’ I say, my voice rough with desperation. ‘Whatever it takes.’

Lake nods eagerly. ‘If we complete the mark, it will help, right?’

The doctor hesitates. ‘In theory,’ he admits. ‘But there’s more to it than just the physical, as I said before. Evie needs a pack who can be strong for her. Alphas who can give her what she needs. Given what I’ve seen, I’m not sure the Blackwood pack is the right one for the job. It may be better for her to cut her losses and find a more suitable pack up for the task of providing what she needs.’

The doctor’s words hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind from my lungs. I stagger back a step, the weight of his condemnation crushing me.

He’s right. Of course he’s right.

We don’t deserve Evie.

We never did. Not with the way we’ve treated her, the way we’ve failed her at every turn.

But the thought of her being given to another pack, of losing her forever… It’s intolerable. I feel sick, like someone has broken through my rib cage, reached in, and torn out my heart. I can’t breathe, can’t think beyond the blinding panic that consumes me.

No. Please, no. Not that. Anything but that.

I open my mouth, desperate to plead our case, to beg for another chance, but the words lodge in my throat, choking me. What can I possibly say? How can I justify the unforgivable?

The doctor’s voice cuts through the haze of despair. ‘I have a responsibility to report this case to the Council, for Evie’s well-being. But ultimately, the decision lies with her. She’s the one who will decide how things proceed from here.’

Our fate rests in her hands now. The hands we’ve so carelessly pushed away, time and time again.

Lake’s voice is a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the pounding of my own heart. ‘Can we see her? Please?’

The doctor shakes his head, his expression softening slightly. ‘Not yet. She needs to rest overnight. But you’re welcome to stay the night, if you wish. There’s a room for visitors down the hall.’

Of course I’m going to stay. I can’t leave her. Can’t abandon her ever again. Even if she doesn’t want us here, even if she never forgives us… I have to be here. Have to show her I’m not going anywhere.

Not this time.

I glance at the others, seeing my own resolve reflected in their eyes. Even Damien, usually so aloof and untouchable, looks shaken. Lost. For once, he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t try to assert his authority or make a cutting remark.

He simply nods, a silent agreement.

We’re staying. All of us.

I lean against the wall, my legs suddenly weak. Exhaustion washes over me, a bone-deep weariness that has nothing to do with the late hour. How did we let it come to this? How did we let our pride, our stubbornness, blind us to what truly matters?

Evie. Our omega. The heart of our pack. And we almost lost her. Almost destroyed the very thing we were made to protect.

I close my eyes as the doctor leaves, letting my head fall back against the cool tile. The events of the night replay in my mind, a horror movie on endless loop. And through it all, the sickening realization that we did this.

That our selfishness, our cruelty, nearly cost Evie her life.

Never again.

The vow echoes in my mind, a solemn oath. If Evie gives us another chance, if by some miracle she chooses to stay with us… I will spend the rest of my life making things right. Cherishing her. Protecting her, the way an alpha should.

The way I should have from the start.

Please, Evie. Please give us one more chance. I promise, we won’t waste it. We’ll be the alphas you deserve, the pack you need.

Just please, please be okay.