Page 12 of Knot a Thief

I take her wrist, feeling the thrum of her pulse underneath my touch. “Because you’re mine.” A sudden determination seeps into my gut. I smile and pull her closer, our bodies pressing against each other. I tap the tip of her nose. “Always remember that, Ava. I’ll protect you and love you, no matter what.”

She smiles. “That’s because you’re mine, Seb.”

Chapter 3

Seb

The gentle rocking of the hired yacht beneath my feet does little to calm my nerves as I watch Ava get ready.

“You're sure about this?” I ask, fiddling with the comm unit in my hand. “I’m still worried about you. The alpha at the café seemed to throw you off.”

Ava pauses, her hands halfway through plaiting her hair. For a moment, I see a flicker of something in her eyes. Uncertainty? Fear?

It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual determined glint.

She finishes the French braids. Then ties the two rows together before turning them into a tight bun, just like every time before today. Graceful and methodical. It’s like watching a dancer getting ready for a performance—except this dance could land us both in prison if anything goes wrong.

“I’m fine, Seb,” she says, securing pins in the bun. “He was just unexpected, that’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”

I feel a familiar twist in my gut. Part worry, part resignation, and a lot of jealousy that I don’t want to think about. Being a beta, I have my doubts. But then, Alphas would doubt their life with Ava. She’s the most beautiful omega I know, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder if there’ll come a day when this life isn’t enough for her.

When I’m not enough.

Will an alpha come along?

Despite her insistence that she doesn’t need one, will she purr for him?

I’ve felt this way since I met her just over two years ago. She was looking on the dark web for a web expert. It turned out she wanted much more than that. After answering her ad, I never thought she’d go as far as she did to scope me out. We conversed by email; by text and she called me a few times. Little did I know, she was watching me; stalking me if you like.

She was making sure I was the one who she could trust with everything else in her life. And for the past two years, she’s been mine.

Ava slips on a black vest, the material hugging her curves in a way that makes my skin heat and my mouth go bone dry. I force myself to look away as she pulls on matching leggings.

It’s not the time for distractions, no matter how much I want to bend her over and fuck her until she’s begging to come. Telling me over and over that she’s mine.

“Are you okay? You seem a little off,” she says.

I nod, not entirely convinced but knowing better than to push my thoughts.

Ava reaches for a long, multicolored, floaty dress, slipping it over her stealth outfit. The transformation is remarkable. In seconds, she goes from cat burglar to socialite.

“How do I look?” she asks, twirling around.

“Like you belong at a charity gala, not breaking into hotel rooms,” I deadpan, managing a small smile.

Ava grins, the excitement of the upcoming heist clear in her eyes. “Perfect.”

Her addiction to stealing is real. Just like I love to be her eyes and ears on the ground.

This is who she is—who we are. And our common ground.

She grabs her bag. An innocent-looking blue tote, somewhere to stash her clothes when she starts. There’s nothing inside. The arsenal of lock-picking tools that would make all other master thieves envious is on her person. In her hair, strapped to her thighs and the cell in her hand.

“Hey.” Ava’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s standing in front of me now, her bag on her shoulder and her hand on my cheek. “We’ve got this, okay? Just like always.”

I lean into her touch, savoring the moment. “Just be careful, right? And if anything feels off—”

“I’ll abort the mission,” she finishes, rolling her eyes but smiling. “I know the drill, Seb.”

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