Page 118 of Knot a Thief

My stomach churns with an aching sensation at the mere thought of losing Seb.

I can’t lose him.

As the jet carries us closer to Italy, closer to the moment of truth, anticipation mixes with dread. I can only hope that Seb’s love for me will be enough to help him accept whatever I choose.

Have I chosen?

I glance at Max, still working hard at his makeshift desk. He hasn’t a clue about these conflicting thoughts swirling in my mind.

Max’s phone rings, breaking the comfortable silence between us. I watch him as he answers, his expression shifting as he listens.

“It’s Silas,” he mouths to me, and my heart rate starts to race.

After a brief conversation, Max turns to me with a smile that’s both warm and slightly hesitant. “Apparently Lily loves Seb,” he says softly.

The relief washes over me as a smile, genuine and bright, spreads across my face. I lift the bed back to a chair, swing my legs until my feet touch the floor, and rush to sit on the opposite side of the table to Max.

“Really?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat. “Is Silas in Italy?”

I’m more surprised he knows where the boat is moored.

Max nods, his own smile growing at my positive reaction. “They’ve been getting along remarkably well, according to Silas.”

Contentment settles over me.

This is exactly what I had hoped for, but was afraid to expect. Lily bonding with Seb means that we truly can be a family—a pack.

“That’s wonderful,” I say, my voice choked up. “I was so worried. But if she and Seb are getting along.”

Max reaches across the table, tentatively taking my hand. This time, I don’t pull away. “It means we can all be a family, doesn’t it?” he says, echoing my thoughts.

“It means we can try again.” I squeeze his hand.

He rises from the chair. I watch as he walks to the front of the plane and talks to a steward. Then he returns, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he approaches.

My heart flutters when he smiles and stands beside the table.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, gesturing toward the empty seat across from me. The one he just vacated.

I see his nose twitch slightly, and I know he’s trying to catch my scent. I no longer mask it, and the slick between my legs is flowing strongly.

I accept I’m an omega, and I’m never hiding again.

“Please.” My voice is coated in confusion, but I hold out my hand, gesturing to the seat opposite, appreciating how he pulls in his alpha instincts, respecting my boundaries.

I hesitate for a moment, then realize he’s reenacting our first real meeting. Not the one in Monaco, that was far too brief, and I was more focused on the job I was planning.

The one in Majorca where we discussed the perfect scent.

I smile. “But I’m leaving soon.”

“Well, today might just be my lucky day,” he says, flashing me that irresistible smile.

“Have you won the lottery?” I quip. If only I knew then he was a multi-billionaire and had more money than any lottery winner.

“I dare say I have,” he replies in an exaggerated British accent that makes me chuckle.

“Why did you put on a British accent?” I ask.

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