Page 97 of Knot Only For One Night

I’m too exhausted to risk getting hit. I’m not ready to experience a bar brawl up close and personal.

“Soren!”

“Oh, your little omega snitched on me? To a beta no less? How fucking pathetic. What the hell are you going to do?”

“Apologize.”

“About what? About being right?”

“Now, Prospect.”

“Don’t Prospect me, you have no power.”

“Oh really?” That's about all the warning Cyclops gets before Soren swings. His fist makes a nasty sound as it connects with the prospect’s face. I involuntarily take a step back, falling right into Neven’s arms. His caramel scent and wide hands gripping my arms being the only indication it’s my lead alpha behind me.

Reed and Asher stand beside me, making no moves to stop Soren at all. I stare at them with wide eyes. Reed’s watching the fight, his eyes trained on the two men going blow for blow. Asher gravitates toward me, taking up space on my other side and grabbing my hand.

“Why aren't you stopping him?”

“This is MC business. It’s Red’s call.”

“But it’s my fault,” I whisper and I’m surprised anyone hears me.

Neven leans down, his lips near my ear as he says, “It’s not your fault. Soren swung because he wanted to. You didn’t pick up his fist and make him.”

“But I told him what was wrong⁠—”

“And he still made that choice. He’s a big boy, Omega."

I try to let the blame roll off of me, but watching my Packmate getting hurt, into a fight, doesn’t make my worry go away.

Cyclops lands a hard blow on Soren’s jaw and I gasp. Holding my hands to my lips to try to dampen the sound. Reed stands with his arms across his chest and I want to order him to make them stop, but I know I can’t.

Soren delivers two hits back, knocking Cyclops down, but Cyclops hooks his foot around Soren’s leg, tripping him too.

Soren doesn’t miss a beat and straddles him, landing punch after punch. A sick crack has me covering my ears and turning in Neven’s arms so I’m facing his chest.

“And don’t you ever look at my omega again, let alone say some stupid shit to make her upset.”

As Soren turns to walk toward us, Neven lets me go. I run into Soren’s arms, who lifts me up and keeps striding as he walks past our Pack. His scent sharpens as his eyes train on someone standing in the shadows.

He doesn’t tense up, or seem nervous at all, but stops. Maybe out of respect? Which makes me nervous for him.

“Soren?” I ask but he just stares down at me.

“It’s okay, Trouble,” he says, kissing my forehead as my legs wrap around his waist.

Reed has approached a pissed and woozy-looking Cyclops, helping him stand on shaky legs.

“We respect omegas around here. And when you don’t”—Reed shrugs, dusting off his hands—“this is what happens.”

The figure from the shadows steps forward. “Class, now.”

He doesn’t sound mad, but he doesn’t seem happy either. The authority he gives off makes me shiver, which makes Soren chuckle in my ear.

The man is something stupid tall. Like six-foot-six. Full of muscle. An older white man with blond hair and sharp green eyes.

I hear grumbling before I see Neven, Asher, and Reed follow after the man. Cyclops too, and soon Soren and I.