Page 110 of Hard Knot

The last thing I register is the cool press of the towel against my forehead and James's worried voice saying something I can't quite make out.

“Rest…baby girl…I’ve…always…” I strain to hear the final words. “Got you. Always, Eli.”

Then darkness claims me.

Shattered Control

~HOLMES~

What the fuck am I doing?

The corridor feels oppressively silent as I lean against the wall outside James Morrison's suite, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. The silk of my blindfold does little to shield me from the memories of the past hour — the way Elizabeth's scent changed when Morrison kissed her, the sound of her breath hitching, the clear note ofrecognitionin her voice when she said his name.

It shouldn't matter.

Itdoesn'tmatter.

Yet here I am, standing in this hallway like some lovesick teenager, listening to the quiet murmur of voices behind the door and hating myself for caring enough to stay.

The scene from earlier plays in my mind like a sadistic film reel, each moment crystal clear despite my covered eyes. Or perhaps because of them — my other senses have always been cruelly sharp when it comes to things I'd rather not perceive.

The way back to our place had been tense, the air thick with unspoken accusations.

I remember every detail with perfect clarity, as much as I wish I didn't.

Carter's hands had been shaking as he poured himself a drink, the crystal decanter rattling against the glass. The sound had been jarring in the otherwise silent room — a precursor to the storm I knew was coming.

"You're going to break something," Felix had said quietly, his tone carefully neutral. "Those are Baccarat crystals. At least throw the cheap stuff."

The glass had sailed past my head before Felix finished speaking, shattering against the wall in a spray of amber liquid and crystal shards. The bourbon's rich aroma filled the air, mingling with the acrid scent of Carter's rage.

"Carter," Felix sighed, adjusting his glasses. "If you're going to have a tantrum, do it with your fists in the training room. Don't destroy the glassware."

"Shut the fuck up," Carter had snarled, his voice raw with barely contained violence. "Unless you want me to punch those smart glasses off your face."

I'd remained silent, feeling the weight of Felix's gaze as he assessed the situation. Always the mediator, trying to maintain peace even when peace wasn't an option.

"Do you actually have nothing to say?" Felix had asked me, his tone carrying an edge I rarely heard from him.

I hadn't responded.

What could I say?

That the sight of Elizabeth melting into Morrison's arms had made something in my chest constrict painfully? Crazy how I couldn’t even grasp all the interactions initially. I had to watch the entire thing in the car, ears plugged so I didn’t have to listen to Carter’s seething complaints the whole ride back.

I never thought I’d be envious of another Alpha.

To watch the way he casually claimed her, flaunting ‘my Eli’ like he’s known her his entire life or some shit. The sudden interaction simply made me want to tear his throat out.

That I'd wanted to be the one to save her?

"Fuck this," Carter had spat, already turning toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Felix had asked, though we all knew the answer.

"To get some air before I fucking leave this pack."

The words had hung in the air like smoke, acrid and choking. I should have let him go — should have maintained my carefully constructed wall of indifference — but something in me had snapped.

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