Page 71 of Knot the One They Want

I stare at them, my heart a battlefield of warring emotions. I want to believe them. Want to believe that they're not the cruel, heartless bastards they seemed to be. But trust is a fragile thing, and they shattered mine into a million jagged pieces.

I turn back to Damien, meeting his icy blue gaze head-on. "Why?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you make them reject me if you knew we were matched?"

He flinches as if I've physically struck him, a muscle ticking in his jaw. For a long moment, he's silent, his eyes searching mine as if looking for answers he doesn't have.

Finally, he sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "It's not... it has nothing to do with you, Evie. It's me. My issues, my fucked up head. If you hate anyone, it should be me."

I laugh, the sound harsh and bitter in the quiet room. "I have a right to hate all of you. And believe me, I wish I could. It would make this so much easier."

Because hating them... it would be simple. Clean. A way to protect my battered heart from further damage. But as much as I want to, as much as I try... I can't seem to summon that level of loathing. Not when I look at their faces, see the genuine remorse and pain etched into every line.

I soften, my shoulders slumping as the fight drains out of me. "But I don't. I don't hate you. Any of you. Even though I probably should."

Relief flashes across their faces, so stark and raw that it steals my breath. But I hold up a hand, stopping any premature celebrations.

"That doesn't mean I trust you, though. Just because I'm not going to report this to the Council, just because I don't want to see you punished and our families pay the price... it doesn'tmean we're okay. You broke something in me, something I don't know if I can ever fully repair. Scent match or no."

I've spent this long gaslighting myself. Telling myself I couldn't be feeling what I am. And they've spent this long ignoring it.

What difference does it really make?

My voice cracks, tears burning the backs of my eyes. "You made me feel worthless. Unlovable. Like I was nothing more than a toy for you to play with and then toss aside. And that... that's not something I can just forgive and forget."

The alphas stand in somber silence, guilt and shame darkening their faces. But beneath that, I see a glimmer of determination. Of resolve.

"We know," Asher says, his voice rough with emotion. "We know we fucked up, Evie. Badly. But if you give us a chance... if you let us try... you won't have to take our word for it. We know that means nothing, but we intend on proving it. Proving that you're the most precious thing in our world."

The words wrap around my heart like constricting thorns, squeezing until I can barely breathe. I want to believe him. Want to throw myself into their arms and let them chase away the shadows of pain and insecurity.

But I can't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Because trust is earned, not given. And they have a long, long way to go before they've earned mine back. Before they can ever hope to get even a fraction of it.

"I guess we'll see," is the only response I can give him.

And considering it's more than any of them gave me, it will have to be enough.

CHAPTER 34

LAKE

The house is a flurry of activity as Damien, Cole, and I bustle around, instructing the servants to prepare for Evie's homecoming from the hospital. Even Damien, usually so aloof and detached, is intent on making sure everything is perfect for her arrival.

As a maid walks by with a vase of flowers, Damien stops her abruptly. "Those have daisies in them," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Evie hates daisies. Get rid of them."

The maid blinks, taken aback, but quickly nods and hurries off to follow his instructions. I watch the exchange with a mix of surprise and curiosity. Since when does Damien know Evie's flower preferences?

"How do you know Evie hates daisies?" I ask, sidling up to him.

Damien's jaw tightens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. For a moment, I think he's going to brush me off, retreat behind his usual icy facade. But then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Addison told me," he admits, his voice gruff. "She also told me all of Evie's favorite things. Her likes and dislikes. So I couldmake sure the house was perfect for her when she got home from the hospital."

I stare at him, a lump forming in my throat. Damien, the immovable force, the unshakable leader... he's trying. In his own way, he's really trying to make amends.

I glance around, taking in the transformed space. The once cold, impersonal rooms are now warm and inviting, thanks mostly to Evie's efforts, but also because they're now filled with plush blankets and soft pillows in Evie's favorite colors. Things omegas like, at least according to our research and the questions we've been asking. Soothing scents waft through the air, vanilla and lavender and clean linen.

"It looks pretty good," I say, a small smile tugging at my lips.

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