Page 37 of Knot Made to Break: Part One

“We should head home,” he murmured to his brothers. “I think we’ve accomplished enough for today.”

Relief washed over me, mixed with a twinge of disappointment in myself. They were being so kind, and I couldn’t even keep pace to shop with them.

As we made our way to the checkout, the guys added more blankets and pillows as we went. I wanted to argue that I didn’t need the exorbitant amount of stuff they were buying for me, but my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and the edges of my vision were blurring. I stumbled slightly, and Marco reached out to steady me.

“Whoa there,” he said, voice laced with worry.

“S-Sorry. Tripped.” I waved at the void behind me, pretending I hadn’t just fallen over my own feet.

The world wavered as they checked out, the numbers on the screen fading in and out of focus. I saw enough, however, to want to protest when they whipped out their sleek black card and paid for everything. My lips parted, but all I could manage was a weak whimper that was drowned out by the praise of the woman at the checkout telling the guys what good choices we’d made.

Shuffling the bags between them, they bantered as they ushered me out of the store and back toward their sleek SUV.

The sun blinded me even as black dots coalesced in front of my eyes. Without the cart to lean on, I stumbled, feeling as though the ground was roiling beneath my feet.

Hold it together, I begged and pleaded with myself, but it was no use.

Dizziness swamped me. Their voices faded into a distant hum, and the world tilted sideways.

The last thing I felt was a powerful pair of arms catching me before everything went dark.

fourteen

GIOVANNI

A few minutes earlier…

Fuck me sideways.

If someone told me a few weeks ago that I’d’ve been following a petite little Omega around like a lost puppy while sheshopped, I would’ve dismissed them before they’d even finished the damn sentence.

And yet, here I was, spending the day in a fancy ass shop that had a name that sounded so pretentious, I just knew the people who worked there had sticks so far up their asses, they didn’t need spines to hold them upright.

I’d been done after the fiasco at Maison’s, ready to whisk Kitania home and punish anyone who’d said a bad word about her, but Dimitri, the sneaky fucker, had lured me back in with a promise to take her to FierceFit.

Of course, he knew I wouldn’t be able to resist introducing her to a place I loved… especially since it meant dressing her up in tight, sexy as fuck spandex.

Her body was made for the clingy material that left little to the imagination, and as much as I relished seeing her all dolled up in some of the dresses and shit she’d picked out, I wanted to see her in the type of comfortable attire I was accustomed to wearing.

Watching her browse various athletic wear and pick things out had felt like welcoming her a little more into my world. Giving her a glimpse of who I was.

As we moved through the store, I pictured Kitania in each outfit—running on the treadmill in our home gym in a sports bra, stretching in yoga pants that were molded to her perfect ass, her lithe body moving gracefully as she swam in our pool in a tiny little two-piece I could untie at the sides. My dick stirred to life at each passing image until I had to angle my hips into a clothing rack to adjust myself discreetly.

It wasn’t until I saw the light dim in her eyes when we talked about going to the dressing rooms that I picked up that something was off. I watched her closely, striving to read her mind by studying the micro-expressions that so often crossed her face. But the moment a negative thought or emotion pulled down her delicate features, steely determination followed directly on its heels.

This tiny little woman was a dichotomy of emotions I couldn’t make heads or tails from. Not that it stopped me from trying. I noticed everything about her, like the way she brushed her fingers along the clothing with a longing she didn’t think we could see. Or how her corn-flower-blue eyes darted around the stores and sidewalks, always assessing her surroundings for danger. She did it so unconsciously I wasn’t certain she was even aware of it. Then, there was the faint blush that so often infusedthe apples of her cheeks whenever that gaze landed on me or one of my brothers.

But the longer we shopped, the harder it was to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Kitania’s usual grace had given way to an unsteady gait, and her skin had taken on an almost translucent quality. I should have insisted we stop, should have listened to those goddamned instincts. But I was so focused on wanting to provide for her and make her feel at home in our space that I fucked up.

Wealldid.

Because the next thing any of us knew, we stepped out of the store and our Omega swayed unsteadily.

My heart lurched.

“Dolcezza?” I called, my voice sharp with concern.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she listed sideways. Time seemed to slow as she fell.

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