Page 111 of Knot Made to Break: Part One

“Check yourself,” I warned, not bothering to hide the absolute disdain that dripped from the words.

“I’m just sayin’. That’s barely a fucking gunshot wound. Talk to me when she has to have the fuckin’ thing dug out of herchest.” He tugged his neckline aside, showing off the scar from his last run-in with a bullet.

My hand was already on my gun, my aggression needing an outlet. That Alec was giving me an excuse to get a little violent was convenient. I aimed the barrel at his heart.

“If you don’t shut your fucking face, I’ll finish the job that one started,” I spat, eyeing his scar pointedly.

He held his hands up in a show of surrender, but the sneer contorting his features didn’t jibe with the gesture. “She doesn’t have what it takes to make it in this family. Our queen should be someone who earns our respect. Not some pretty little cunt who can’t deal with a boo boo.”

“She was fuckingshot, you jackass,” Enzo snarled, getting into Alec’s face. Keeping his eye on the asshole, he addressed Dimitri. “Want me to take out the trash?”

D’s voice was filled with fury. “Get him out of my fuckin’ sight.” His attention shifted, death glare fixating on Alec. “Say another disparaging word about my Omega and you won’t live long enough to regret it. This is your first and last warning. You’d do well to heed it.”

With a jerk of his head, D sent Enzo into motion, our enforcer dragging the cocksucker outside to give him an ‘attitude adjustment.’ Only when they were out of sight did I lower the gun.

“Well, as entertaining as that was, I’d like to fix your Omega now,” Doc said wryly.

Kit’s whine brought me back, and the haze of red receded.

With Marco assisting, Doc stitched her up from the inside out. I had to look away, focusing on the shattered glass and spilled drinks on the floor. The mix of alcohol and broken shards created a shimmering, volatile puddle, primed and ready to explode with the smallest spark. That’s what we were right now—an explosive mixture of anger, fear, and helplessness, all set to detonate with one wrong move.

Kit’s whimpers and the soft murmur of Marco’s apologies were almost too much to bear. I wanted to tell her she was the bravest person I’d ever known, that she have to be this strong, that it was okay to scream if she needed to. But I stayed silent, knowing that any words from me might just push the rest of us over the edge.

Doc finished up and wiped his brow. “The worst is over.”

Was it? Because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Marco stepped back, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He flexed his fingers, probably trying to work out the tension. Blood stained his palms, contrasting with how white his face had become.

“She needs time to heal, but she should be much better in a few weeks. I’d like to monitor her to make sure she doesn’t develop an infection, and I believe it would be best to dose her preemptively with antibiotics,” Doc instructed. But I let it all fall away, trusting my brothers to deal with the details while I moved back to Kit’s side.

I took her small, pale hand in mine. The blood had drained from her skin, leaving her ashen and fragile. An uncomfortable knot formed in my chest, a mix of guilt and something deeper, more primal. We were supposed to protect her, to keep her safe. How could we let this happen?

“Kit,” I whispered, but she didn’t respond. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused—probably from the pain and shock. I stroked her hand, willing some of my warmth into her. “You were so brave.”

Dimitri loomed over us, his expression unreadable. He’d always been the best at hiding his true feelings, at keeping his Alpha nature in check. The man thrived on control, but even he looked ready to tear someone apart.

Maybe himself.

“Let’s get her home,” D said, his voice rough with the effort it took to stay composed.

Gio carefully lifted Kitania into his arms, and we made our way to the car. The drive back to the penthouse was a tense, silent affair. Each of us lost in our thoughts, our fears, our plans for revenge.

As we walked through the front door, Gio angled for the elevator, hitting a button that would bypass Kit’s bedroom, taking us directly to the third floor instead. I hurried past him when we emerged and opened the doors to our Omega suite. A massive bed sat along the far wall, stretching the full length of it. I pulled back the covers, and my brother set our girl down beforepropping a pillow under her arm to give it a little elevation and keep her from rolling onto it in her sleep.

“She’s stable now,” Giovanni murmured as he withdrew. All of us focused on the exhausted Omega nestled in our pack bed—right where she belonged. “But we can’t take any chances. We can keep her home, where it’s safe, but we need to end this.”

The tension in the room was palpable, each of us caught between the drive for vengeance and the need to care for Kit. We were all on edge, our Alpha instincts pulling us in conflicting directions.

But Gio was right.

This needed to end. I couldn’t bear the thought of Kitania in the crosshairs.

Not again.

Not fucking ever.

I tore my focus from our Omega and placed it squarely on my brothers. “Anyone got a plan?”

forty

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