Page 74 of Knot a Thief

I thought Ava would build her strength. She doesn’t strike me as someone who will stay on this island without at least one attempt at escaping. This passive resistance is unexpected, unsettling me more than I care to admit.

I scrape my fingernails over my stubbled jaw before I reach for the intercom, my voice sharp as I bark out orders.

“Make her eat,” I tell Silas. “And check her temperature while you’re there.”

Minutes later, Silas enters her room and I hope he can make her see sense.

Because until I understand what’s going on in that stubborn, beautiful head of hers, I can’t be sure of anything. And in this game we’re playing, uncertainty is a luxury I can’t afford.

“You need to eat,” Silas says as the door opens to her room.

I lean back in my chair, ankles crossed on my desk, fingers steepled under my chin.

She turns away from the window. “I’m not hungry,” she replies.

Silas sighs. “I don’t want to feed you like a child. Now fucking eat.”

Her back shackles as she glares at him. “No. I’m not eating until you set me free.”

“If you’re pregnant, you’ll be freed in nine months.”

“I don’t want a baby!”

He shakes his head, mystified. “You’re an omega. All omegas want babies.”

Ava’s behavior is a puzzle, one I’m determined to unravel. My eyes flick between the screens, taking in every detail of her posture, her expressions, searching for clues.

“Not this one,” she replies.

Silas chuckles. “That’s fine. You’re only a surrogate, anyway. Then you can go on your merry, thieving way.”

She hisses at him. “I hate you and tell Max that I hate him, too.”

“I don’t care what you think about me.” Silas strides to the table and takes the pregnancy test and hands it to her. “Use it. If you’re already pregnant, you can start counting down the days.”

“And if I’m not, is he going to keep me here until my next heat?” Her voice lifts in fear.

Silas sighs.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Her voice is suddenly much softer, almost scared. Her eyes are almost pleading. “There are plenty of omega agencies. He could have done this with a willing omega.”

“I don’t know,” Silas says.

“Because I want the one who rejected me,” I say to the screen. “The one whose scent matches mine.”

I look at my face on the one black monitor. The crows feet, the glint of silver at my temples. And then I look at her.

Long dark brown hair, bright blue eyes surrounded by luscious thick lashes, pink lips that are turned up at the edges, making her look permanently happy.

And when she smiles, her face lights up like nobody else’s—not that I’ve seen it much.

I can see why she rejected me.

Why would she pick a man twenty years her senior?

I rub at the ache in my chest before I stand once more, moving to the window.

As I gaze out at the rolling waves, my mind races with plans.

---