Page 160 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

Kieran's neck shows no evidence of scarring or marking that would indicate a previous bond. The skin remains unmarred, carrying only natural texture without a hint of past trauma.

"How long?" Kieran's question comes directed at Vale, voice tight with barely controlled emotion. "How long has it been gone?"

"I just noticed," Vale admits, still studying the unmarked skin with fascination. "But thinking back... I can't actually remember the last time I clearly saw it. It's like..." He struggles for words. “It was there before Ravenscroft invasion though.”

Dante moves closer, tactical mind clearly processing implications.

"Could be connected to recent events. New influences affecting old wounds." His gaze shifts meaningfully in my direction, though he doesn't voice the obvious connection.

"It's different now," Kieran says softly, understanding blooming in his expression as he watches my movement. "Everything's different since..." He trails off, but the implication hangs clear in the air between us.

Since I arrived.

When they rescued me from sterile halls.

"The only way to remove a bond mark is when another Omega is deemed impactful enough on the Alpha to override the previous root of ownership."

Atlas's voice carries from the stairs, drawing our collective attention.

He stands fully equipped in combat gear, every piece of tactical equipment placed with precise care. The shadows stir in humming appreciation, recognizing in his stance the perfect balance between controlled power and careful restraint.

"It's rare," he continues, descending with measured steps. "The implications only manifest when an Alpha who has been marked meets someone who overrides that feeling of purpose an Omega ignites in them." His tone carries the weight of absolute certainty. "The moment an Omega successfully triggers such implications, the previous imprint begins to fade."

It’s a surprising revelation I’ve never heard before.

"The speed of its disappearance depends entirely on how the individual acknowledges and accepts the idea of a new Omega." His gaze fixes on Kieran with uncomfortable accuracy despite his damaged vision.

My breath catches as I realize he's not wearing his blindfold, his eyes slightly open to reveal that haunting combination of white clouding with hints of burning amber beneath.

"Kieran," Atlas's voice drops lower, weighted with meaning, "was the one who caught you in the forest when you were on the verge of death." The revelation makes my heart stutter in my chest. "He cradled you. Begged you to live. Applied CPR in a desperate attempt to revive you."

Each detail lands with precise impact, painting a vivid picture of moments lost to unconsciousness. The shadows stir with recognition, their song carrying echoes of that desperate struggle between life and death.

"He did everything in his power to save you," Atlas continues, with careful emphasis on each word. "Compare that to his response with his previous Omega – watching her perish while feeling only the clinical mourning of losing an Omega, but not the individual herself."

The implications hover in the air between us, heavy with significance that none of us quite know how to process.

"Kieran," I whisper his name, my feet carrying me toward him before conscious thought can intervene.

A blush spreads across his cheeks as I draw near, his gaze dropping as he searches for words to minimize what he did for me.

"It wasn't really that—" His attempt at deflection dies as I rise on tiptoes, pressing my palm against his bare chest while finding his lips in a gentle kiss.

He freezes initially, the surprise evident in his rigid posture before gradually relaxing into the connection.

His response carries hesitation, so different from Atlas's carefully controlled passion. Where Atlas alternates between desperate need and measured restraint, Kieran's kiss speaks of cautious exploration and lingering uncertainty.

I keep the moment brief – just long enough to convey my gratitude in the most intimate omega way possible. When I pull back, I can't help but smile at his reaction.

"Thank you, Kieran."

His face flames brilliant red as he stammers something about changing clothes before practically fleeing upstairs.

Dante's snicker breaks the charged atmosphere.

"Forgot how shy he was with omegas back in the day," he observes with obvious amusement. "Guess some things never change."

"Clearly," Vale adds dryly from his wheelchair.

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