Page 36 of Break Me Knot

It doesn't make sense. Alphas always want to dominate, to control, to own. That's what experience has proven time and again.But these two...

I force my eyes open, needing visual confirmation of what my nose is telling me. The morning light filtering through the closet door illuminates their faces, and what I see makes me pause in my planned escape.

They look... peaceful. Vulnerable, even. Adrian's face presses against my hair, his mask of control completely gone in sleep. Zane's arm across my waist isn't restraining. It's protective, like he's trying to shield me from harm, even in unconsciousness.

Adrian's hair is a tangled mess, dark circles under his eyes visible. Zane's face shows several days of stubble. They both look like they've been through a war, and in a way, they have. We all have.

My hand flies to my neck, fingers trembling as I search for puncture marks, for the scarring of a claiming bite. Nothing. Just smooth, unmarked skin. Well, as unmarked as any other part of my body. I touch old scars. No fresh wounds. No bonding bite. Relief floods through me, followed by confusion.

They could have claimed me. I was in heat. I would have begged for it, and they would have been in their rights to do so. The thought makes me flush with shame. But they didn't. They helped me through my heat without taking that final, irreversible step, which makes me more confused than ever.

Fragments of memory filter through the heat-haze… gentle touches, soft questions, constant requests for permission.May I touch you here? Is this okay? Tell us what you need.Their voices were always tender, their hands careful, giving me choices when I was at my most vulnerable. Even lost to my heat, they asked for consent. Always asking, never taking.

There are only the three of us here. Cole never joined us, even though I have memories of him standing on the cusp of the closet practically vibrating with lust.

He rejected me.

It was the best outcome I could have hoped for. One less alpha to fear, to fight against. But something deep inside keens at his absence.

I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t worthy enough. The thought sends a spike of pain through my chest that makes no sense.

I shouldn't care.

I shouldn't want his approval, his touch, his presence.

He shouldn’t take up space in this hollow place inside me.

Noneof this makes sense. Panic builds, my breath coming faster. The world spins, and I’m…uncertain. Their kindness, their gentleness, their thoughtfulness, theirscents,that make me want to burrow deeper into them and drift back to sleep. It is too confusing.

I try to ease from between them, but my muscles are wet paper, my limbs too heavy to coordinate. The attempt to move sends a deep ache shooting through my core, evidence of hours, maybe days, of heat-driven coupling. Panic claws up my throat when I realize I can't extract myself from their embrace.

Adrian's eyes snap open, instantly alert. The transition from deep sleep to full awareness is startling. His hazel eyes pin me in place, and then...

He smiles.

My heart does something complicated in my chest. He looks... happy. Genuinely, radiantly happy to be here in this pathetic nest on a closet floor, surrounded by my threadbare blankets and borrowed clothes. His smile transforms his whole face, softening the sharp alpha features into something boyish.

He's beautiful.The thought hits me, unwanted yet undeniable. Even disheveled from days of tending to my heat, even with stubble darkening his jaw and shadows under his eyes, he's breathtaking.

No. No nono. I can't think like this. Can't notice these things. Can't let myself feel...

My breathing speeds up, the panic returning full force. Adrian's smile fades to concern.

“You're okay. We've got you,” he murmurs, his scent shifting to project calm and safety.

But that's exactly what terrifies me.

They have me in their arms in a penthouse I can’t escape from.

And some traitorous part of me wants them to keep me.

Zane stirs beside me, his blue eyes blinking open. He scents the air and something like regret crosses his face, softening his strong features. “Your heat has broken,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep.

My mind immediately jumps to the worst conclusion. Of course he's disappointed. Days of readily available omega sex, gone. No more heat-drunk body begging for his knot. I hate myself for the thought almost immediately, especially when his next action is to press a gentle kiss to my shoulder.

“Hungry?” he asks softly, his thumb tracing circles on my hip. As if summoned by the question, my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl that echoes in the confined space of the closet.

His answering smile is devastating, all white teeth and crinkled eyes and…and…kindness. These alphas shouldn't be this beautiful. It's not fair. Beauty like this is dangerous. It makes you want to believe in things like safety and protection and forever.

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