Knot the One They Want (Claimverse Book 1)

Knot the One They Want: Chapter 32



The rhythmic clack of my Italian leather shoes against the sterile white tiles fills my ears as I pace the empty hospital corridor. A metronome tethering me to the physical moment when my thoughts are hazy and drifting.

My father’s text flashes through my mind again. He’s on his way. I rake a hand through my hair, frustration simmering under my skin. The last thing I need right now is to deal with his inevitable disapproval.

Heavy footsteps approach and I steel myself, turning to face him. Carl Blackwood rounds the corner, his usually impeccable silver hair slightly disheveled. Worry lines his distinguished face and there are dark circles under his eyes, a testament to the fact that he got out of bed in the middle of the night and rushed straight here.

‘Damien. Is Evangeline alright?’ he asks.

I nod stiffly. ‘She’s stable. Sleeping now while they treat the infection.’ The words taste bitter on my tongue.

His brow furrows. ‘Infection? From what?’

I swallow hard, my jaw clenching. I can’t meet his piercing gaze. Now is the moment of truth. The moment I have to admit what I’ve done. ‘Incomplete mating marks.’

Silence hangs heavy between us, the weight of my admission suffocating. I risk a glance at my father’s face and immediately wish I hadn’t. Realization dawns in his eyes, followed swiftly by a disappointment so profound it makes my chest ache.

‘Incomplete mating marks,’ he repeats slowly, each word dripping with disapproval. ‘And why, pray tell, would the marks be incomplete, Damien?’

I have no answer.

No excuse.

I failed her.

Failed myself. Failed everything the Blackwood name stands for.

My father sighs heavily, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ he breathes as he comes to the realization. He’s a brilliant man, after all. He can put the pieces together easily enough. ‘I never thought I’d see the day I’d be ashamed of you, son.’

His words cut deep, slicing through the last of my defenses. I can’t blame him. I’m ashamed of myself. Disgust curdles in my gut as I remember Evie’s pale, sweat-slicked face, her body writhing in pain from the botched marks I left on her delicate skin as we all piled into the back of that ambulance.

Marks I didn’t have the decency to complete.

‘You’re right,’ I manage through gritted teeth. ‘I’ve brought shame to the Blackwood name. To everything you’ve built.’

He shakes his head, disappointment etched into every line of his face. ‘This isn’t about the family name, Damien. It’s about honor. Integrity. Respect for your omega. I raised you better than this. Your mother and I gave you everything, the keys to the kingdom, our company legacy, and an omega of your own to care for, and this is what you do with it? This is how you treat what you’ve been given, with your omega lying in a hospital bed, half-marked and in pitiful condition?’

Each word lands like a blow, cracking the icy facade I’ve so carefully constructed. He’s right. He did raise me better. They both did. And I’ve let him down in the worst possible way.

‘I’ll fix this,’ I vow, my voice low and rough with emotion. ‘I’ll make this right. I swear it.’

And I mean it.

I can’t pretend like I don’t still wish things had been different, but after tonight, seeing the effect my desperate actions have had on the rest of my pack—on our omega—I know something has to change. I know the way I’ve handled things has been dead fucking wrong.

He meets my gaze, blue eyes so like my own searching for something. Sincerity, perhaps. Remorse. I don’t know if he finds what he’s looking for, but he nods once, sharply.

‘See that you do, son. And if you can’t muster up the decency to do it for the omega in that hospital bed, then consider this,’ he says slowly. ‘I’m not inclined to leave the family legacy in the hands of an alpha who can’t even take care of his own omega.’

My father’s words strike like a hammer, each one driving the nail of shame deeper into my soul. I flinch at his acute disappointment. It’s a heavy burden, heavier than the prospect of losing the company, the legacy, everything I’ve worked for my entire life.

Because he’s right. Absolutely fucking right.

‘I understand,’ I manage to grit out, the words scraping my throat raw. ‘I… I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.’

And I will. I have to.

The alternative—Evie’s pale, still face, her body wracked with pain from my carelessness —is unthinkable.

My father sighs, the sound heavy. ‘Where are Evangeline’s parents?’ he asks. ‘I hope you at least had the decency to notify them of what was happening.’

‘Of course I did,’ I mutter, but even as the words leave my lips, a sinking feeling settles in my gut. I pull out my phone, scanning my notifications with a growing sense of unease.

No missed calls.

No unread texts.

Nothing.

Fuck.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. ‘They… haven’t been answering,’ I admit.

My father’s frown deepens, his brow furrowing with concern. ‘I’ll do what I can,’ he says, his tone clipped. He turns on his heel, striding toward the hospital exit with purposeful steps.

I just called her parents on autopilot as soon as I had a chance, too focused on the doctor’s words to really put much thought into it, but now, their silence is glaring.

I stare after my father’s retreating form, my mind reeling.

I always assumed Evie was just another spoiled, stuck-up princess, born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a pack of doting family members at her beck and call. But now, with the deafening silence from her parents, I wonder if her home life was ever what it was painted to be.

The thought that she doesn’t have a loving family to fall back on, that maybe we weren’t the only ones who failed her… it makes the guilt twist like a knife in my chest. Were we just another disappointment in a long line of letdowns? Did we confirm every fear, every insecurity she’d ever had about her own worth?

Or worse…

What if that’s the real reason I couldn’t run her off? What if her home life was even worse than the hell we put her through? The bile rises in my throat. Did she stay because even our cruelty and apathy was better than what awaited her at home?

The sound of running footsteps jerks me out of my spiraling thoughts. I look up just in time to see Addison, Evie’s best friend, come rushing down the corridor, her auburn curls wild and her face pale. She’s still wearing her pajamas, like she came as soon as she got word. I didn’t call her, but I figure one of the others must have.

‘Where is she?’ Addison cries, her voice raw with panic. ‘Where’s Evie?’

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can get a word out, she’s on me. Her small fists pound against my chest, her tears soaking into my shirt.

‘What did you do to her?’ she screams, her voice cracking. ‘What the fuck did you do, Damien?’

I grab her wrists, trying to still her flailing limbs. ‘Addison, stop. Please. She’s stable. She’s going to be okay.’

But even as the words leave my mouth, they feel hollow.

Because she’s not okay, is she?

How could she be, after what I’ve done?

Addison yanks her hands free, her hazel eyes blazing with a fury I’ve never seen before. ‘Stable? You think that makes it better? God, Damien, how could you? How could you do this to her? And don’t give me any bullshit because I know this was you. I know it has something to do with the fact that you didn’t complete those fucking mating marks.’

Indignation flares up in me, but it’s quickly smothered. I have no right to be upset Evie told her best friend. The one person she could confide in. Hell, she would have been well within her rights to drag us before the Council and tell them every last thing we did and didn’t do. To make sure we never get another omega to neglect, to make sure no one else in either of our coalitions ever trusts our pack again.

It still wouldn’t be what I deserve.

Each word is a lash, flaying me open, exposing the ugly truth of my own failures. I have no defense. No excuses.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, the words woefully inadequate. ‘I’m so fucking sorry.’

She shakes her head, disgust twisting her features. ‘Sorry isn’t good enough. Not after what you’ve done.’

And she’s right. I know she is. Sorry will never be enough. Not for Evie. Not for the pain I’ve caused. The trust I’ve shattered.

But it’s a start.

A small, pitiful start, but a start nonetheless.

I straighten my shoulders, meeting Addison’s accusing gaze head-on. ‘I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, if she’ll let me.’

And I will. I mean it. I don’t deserve Evie, and I certainly don’t deserve to get what I want and have Daria back.

The question is… is that still what I want?

I haven’t even thought about her until now. It’s all too much, my head too jumbled from sleeplessness and the chaos that unfolded as soon as Asher found Evie on the bathroom floor.

I can’t think about or untangle any of it now.

Addison searches my face, her eyes narrowed. Looking for what, I don’t know. Sincerity, maybe. Remorse. I only hope she finds it.

‘You better,’ she says finally, her voice low and fierce. ‘Because if you ever hurt her again, Damien Blackwood, I will personally make sure you regret it for the rest of your miserable life.’

A small smile tugs at my lips in spite of myself.

At least Evie has someone in her corner. Someone she can trust, who’s looking out for her.

The way I should have been all along.


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