Page 60 of Knot My Luck

Heat licks up my spine, fury threatening to uncoil like a whip. I take a step forward, but Tadhg is faster.

“I’d watch your fucking mouth,” he snarls, his usual softness gone. “She’s ours. Marked, bonded, and very muchclaimed.”

Podraig snorts. “Yeah? Then why is she out here all alone, hmm? Must not be much of a bond if she’s already running.”

I see red.

Tadhg’s hands ball into fists, and I feel Devlin trembling behind me, whether in anger or fear, I can’t tell. What Idoknow is that I won’t let them talk about her – aboutus– like this.

I step forward, voice dropping into something deadly. “You really want to test our claim?” My lips curl in a cold smile. “Because I’d be happy to remind you exactly what kind of alphas we are.”

Podraig holds my stare, but there’s a flicker of something beneath his arrogance. Uncertainty. A hint of caution.

His friend scoffs again, but this time, there’s an edge to it. “Whatever. We’ll see how long she lasts before she comes crawling to arealpack.”

That’s the last straw.

“Keep her back,” I growl, low and deadly.

Then I lunge.

The bastard barely has time to react before I slam into him. His breath leaves him in a grunt as we hit the ground, the force of my body sending him sprawling across the damp earth. He barely has time to roll before I’m on him again, my teeth bared, fists tight with the promise of pain.

Tadhg shifts Devlin behind him. “Stay back, a rún,” he hisses, his voice gentler for her, even as fury crackles in his scent.

One of Podraig’s packmates takes a step toward her, dismissing her claim marks entirely. “You’re not bonded properly,” he sneers. “Not byrealalphas.”

Tadhg moves fast, closing the space between them and landing a brutal punch to the bastard’s jaw. Bone cracks under his knuckles, sending the alpha reeling.

“You think we’re fuckingweak?” Tadhg snarls, standing over him. “Say it again.”

The other alpha spits blood onto the pavement, but even dazed, he still has the gall to sneer. “You’re soft. Pathetic.”

My answering growl is pure violence, as I grip Podraig by the collar, dragging him and slamming him up against the nearest tree. “Pathetic?” I snarl, my voice dripping with contempt. “Say that when you can still fucking stand.”

Podraig tries to shove me off, but I grab his throat, pinning him down. “What’s the matter?” I growl. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

He grits his teeth, eyes flashing. “Go ahead,” he spits. “Prove me right. You’re just a couple of fucking fags?—”

Before he can land another punch, a sharp voice cuts through the tension.

“That’senough.”

Devlin.

She steps forward, her chin tilted high despite the way her hands tremble. She looks at the rival pack like they’renothing. Like they’re dust beneath her feet.

“You don’t get to define me,” she says, voice steady now. “You don’t get to decide what makes an alpha strong, what makes a pack real, or what makes a bond worth anything.”

The tension in the air shifts.

Cathal arrives just as the words leave her lips.

When he sees the way they’ve cornered us and Devlin, something in him snaps.

Cathal doesn’t go for Podraig.

Not because he doesn’twantto – because Iseethe moment he clocks the bastard moving, see the rage flash white-hot in his eyes – but because something elsesnapshis focus away.

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