Page 2 of Seen Knot Heard

Heart hammering, I sink into the pillows as the truth crashes over me in sickening waves.

I’m a prisoner.

A numb sensation envelops my body as I search my pockets with trembling fingers, praying I’ll find my phone. But these aren’t my clothes. I don’t own a pair of silky pajama shorts or a skimpy tank top.

While I was unconscious, someone had removed everything personal of mine and redressed me.

At the thought of hands on me against my will, my stomach threatens to rebel. I lean over the side of the bed, grabbing the tiny trash can tucked in next to the nightstand. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, but I manage not to throw up.

Why didn’t Holden and Dominic stay with me at the hospital? They would never leave me trapped like this. Unless…

Blake’s niece. Oh, God. What if something happened to her? The image of her sweet face flashes through my mind. She had vanished from her mom’s home a few hours before my accident.

Are they all still searching for her, not realizing I’m gone?

The room tilts as I lurch to my feet. I brace myself against the wall, staggering across the room to hammer my fist on the door. “Please! Let me out!”

The door opens, and the same woman regards me with annoyance. “Ms. Richardson, I told you?—”

“Where’s Louie?” My voice shakes. “I need to speak to him right now!”

Her expression shutters. “I’m not at liberty to discuss Mr. Santaro’s business.”

The scent of almonds and anise lingers in the air coming from the rest of the penthouse, and my stomach turns at how his pheromones saturate this place. “When will he return?”

“He’ll be along soon. I suggest you make yourself presentable.” She grabs the door and closes it with a resounding thud, the lock clicking shut.

Frozen where I stand, disbelief wars with a sinking realization. I’m trapped here, at the mercy of a man whose very essence is poison.

My thoughts fly to Blake, Holden, and Dominic. Surely they’ll realize I’m gone and come looking for me. They wouldn’t abandon me here…would they?

A sickening thought creeps in unbidden. How will they know where to search?

I sink to the plush carpet, hugging my knees as hot tears spill down my cheeks. The emptiness where the shamrock pendant should have been hanging around my neck sends a bitter reminder that, after years of dodging this fate, luck has finally deserted me.

A hollow ache opens in my heart. Were the tender moments we exchanged, the whispered promises, nothing more than beautiful lies? Pretty words to placate a naïve, lonely Omega?

I rub at my chest, trying to ease the pain.

Did I ever matter to them? Or was I only a pleasant distraction? A shiny toy for the Alphas to play with until they grew bored and tossed me aside? My vacation at Misty Pines always came with an expiration date, didn’t it? Had our time just run its course?

I shake my head, pink hair falling forward to screen my face.

I refuse to believe that the connection we shared, the bone-deep longing that drew us together, was all a cruel illusion. With each passing minute, doubt claws at my mind, trying to rewrite my memories with the reminder that I’m nothing.

The man who raised me, who I called father, had tossed me aside without a second thought. Why wouldn’t these men I’ve known for less than two weeks not do the same?

The pounding in my temples worsens, and an echoing throb of pain comes from within my cast. Everything hurts from the inside out, and for a moment, I long to return to the blissful nothingness of medicated sleep.

Fear of what could happen while I’m unconscious dispels the desire, though, and I cradle my injured arm against my chest. I need to stay aware from now on.

A soft knock at the door jolts me from my spiraling fears. “Ms. Richardson? I have your breakfast.”

I drag myself up on unsteady legs, swiping at my damp cheeks. Is this my chance? Can I reason with the servant and convince them to let me go?

When the door opens again, yet another impassive face greets me.

The maid avoids looking at me, her arms laden with food that curdles my stomach.

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