Page 11 of Knot Only For One Night

My cranberry scent stains the air with a sour note. I need more scent blockers. Fast.

Launching back in my bed, I grab my phone, opening the app but sliding to the chat with Reed without opening my new match.

Would he … lose interest? Should I let him know?

Inhale. Exhale.

Open the darn match, Esper. Many omegas have more than one suitor. Hell, more than one partner. It’s gonna be okay.

My finger hits the button, and a new picture fills my screen with the same confetti as before.

His name is Neven, and he’s an alpha.

CHAPTER 4

NEVEN

The paper in my back pocket burns an imaginary hole straight through my gut. My glasses fog faintly from the amount of heat and sweat in the room.

And on my person.

I’m grateful for the scapegoat of the humidity of a full room of people. Easier to blame that than the single piece of paper that could change my life.

Every Wolf in the MC is crammed into a tiny room in the back of the mechanic shop with a desk and whiteboard up front and rows of desks and chairs. We also used this room as a study hall for the young’uns. One of Prez’s rules is that all kids born or joining the MC must have a high school diploma or their GED. He doesn’t tolerate dumb fucks. (His words.)

I hope it’s less sweltering during school hours. But, still, convenient for me tonight.

“And that’ll be all. Adjourned.” Prez, also known as Ace Nightwell, slams his gavel. His brown eyes lock with mine, and I give him a short nod to confirm our personal meeting after the Townhall.

Our Prez is a man of few words. His actions speak for him, and that’s what makes him a worthy leader. He’s run this club for thirty years.

The Midnight Wolves motorcycle club started when his mom was attacked by another MC. Prez’s mother survived the attack with a long scar down her back, but Prez wasn't the kind of man to let something like that slide.

Regardless if it meant going up against an entire MC by himself.

He didn’t have to, though. Thunder, my dad and VP Rider, and Bear, our Enforcer, joined him in his justice for his mom. Not that it was a hard sell. That club was a terror in our neighborhood, randomly attacking people, stealing women and children, and selling dirty drugs cut with the most random shit. Shit that killed people without them having to overdose.

They had to go, and Prez, Bear, and Dad took care of it. They killed their leader. and that club couldn’t find their heads from their asses after that and so they disbanded, and went who knows where.

After, Prez created Midnight Wolves with my dad and Bear to clean up the neighborhood.

Prez is a white man with blond hair and green sharp eyes. He has the build of an athlete and even in his old age he runs a tight ship. We as a club are committed to protecting the citizens of White Pine Crest and pricing a clean product.

Nothing could have been better than growing up among the Wolves. Sure, we still sell, we still hold our ground. Disrespect is returned tenfold. But we have a reason. Purpose.

We may not be good people, but we try to be good.

It’s why the thought of leaving is so hard.

Wolves flowed past me out of the cramped room. Townhall was normally a biweekly event with the whole MC, but lately we’ve been meeting every damn week. The Midnight Wolves aren't the only club here anymore. New clubs seem to pop up every which way we look, which is fine as long as they stay out of White Pine Crest. As long as they follow the rules.

Don’t come on ours. Don’t hurt ours. Ours being sales and people, if not in that order.

These rules seem very hard to follow for these new MCs in Maine.

Finally, the last member clears out, and Prez fixes me with a hard stare. Reed stays back too, in the room, leaning against his dad’s desk with his arms crossed.

He’s known as Red around the club, and besides me, he’s the only one pursuing higher education. Even though I’m pretty sure we’re going for different reasons. Me, I needed something more stable, more consistent than the odd jobs I did around the MC from time to time. So I started going to college.