Page 157 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

"I didn’t mind," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "Though… I may have bitten you."

Atlas chuckles, the sound low and warm, and I feel the vibration against my cheek.

"Oh, I noticed," he says, amusement lacing his tone. "I think you might’ve marked me."

"Marked?" I echo, frowning slightly as I lift my head to look at him. "What does that mean?"

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"I’ll explain later," he promises. "For now, just rest, little Goddess."

I want to press him for more, but the exhaustion hits me like a wave. My eyelids grow heavy, and I let my head fall back onto his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling me further into contentment.

His fingers trail lazily along my back, and I feel his lips press against my temple once more.

"Thank you, Nyx," he whispers, his voice soft and full of reverence. "Thank you for trusting me. For being ours. I don’t know what we did to deserve you, but I’ll never take this for granted. Never allow the men of my pack to take advantage of this one opportunity we’ve been blessed with.” His lips press to my temple again, but I can’t move or try to tell him that I’m even more grateful. “I’m so thankful fate brought you to me…to us. You’re our little Goddess of the night."

His words are the last thing I hear before sleep claims me, pulling me under into a blissful haze.

My heart swells with quiet joy, and as the darkness of sleep wraps around me, one final thought flickers through my mind.

I’m glad fate brought me here too.

26

THE ART OF PERSUASION

~NYX~

"What do you mean I have to stay here while you guys do crazy epic shit like hunting motherfuckers and saving a kidnapped sector of Alphas who are being used for ransom?!"

My hands plant firmly on my hips as I stare Dante down, refusing to back away from his hardened gaze. The shadows stir with amusement, their song carrying notes of appreciation for this newfound boldness.

Four days ago, I could barely meet an alpha's eyes. Now I'm challenging one of them directly.

"I get shot ONE time."

"The only time," Kieran huffs, tugging at his turtleneck sweater with obvious discomfort. The fabric clings to him like a second skin, completely impractical for whatever operation they're planning. "We can't deal with you almost dying. That fucking wrecked me and I have enough trauma on my plate that I haven't healed from thank you very much."

The shadows dance with barely contained laughter at his distress – both from the sweater and the memory of my near-death experience.

They recognize the genuine concern beneath his gruff exterior, the way his scent carries notes of lingering fear despite weeks of recovery.

"If we're piling trauma like fucking awards, I have the highest which means I get to come!"

"No." The unified response from Dante, Kieran, and Vale makes me blink in surprise.

My gaze darts to Vale, who immediately throws his hands up in surrender from his wheelchair.

"Nyx, you're literally our first actual Omega. We can't possibly put you in harm's way like that." His expression carries genuine concern as he continues. "These missions are dangerous enough that I can't even go in my condition. We're already down one person – we can't risk you too."

"He's right," Dante adds, his tactical mind clearly running scenarios. "These Alphas we're dealing with are massive, built like us. They could easily overpower you, not counting whatever weapons they're carrying. So absolutely not."

The shadows bristle at his assumption of my weakness, their song carrying notes of challenge and remembered victories.

Six years of survival have taught me more than they realize.

"I could take you down if I wanted," I mutter, letting just enough edge enter my tone to make the threat credible.

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