Page 62 of Knot My Luck

I don’t think – I just move.

I step in beside Tadhg, grab Cathal’s arm, and brace against his side, muscles straining to hold him back. He’s burning up, every inch of him trembling with fury, his body a live wire of barely restrained violence. Heneedsto get to her. Every instinct in him is screaming for it, and for a second, I wonder if even both of us together can hold him.

“Let me go,” he snarls, voice wrecked. “Omega. Mine. Let me?—”

“Let him.” Devlin’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through the chaos like a blade.

Tadhg hesitates, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second, but Devlin doesn’t flinch. Her eyes are steady, her scent unwavering. “Let him come to me.”

The second we let go, Cathallunges.

He slams into her with a force that should knock her off her feet, but Devlin barely stumbles. He buries his face against her throat, hands clutching at her waist, her back, like he needs to feel her solid and whole beneath his fingers. He’s shaking, breath hitching against her skin as he rubs his scent over her, pressing against her like he could crawl inside her if he tried hard enough.

“I’m okay,” Devlin insists, voice soft, her hands sliding up into his hair. She scratches gently at his scalp, her nails dragging soothing lines down the back of his neck. “Cathal, I’m okay.”

Her scent changes, shifting into something softer, deeper—something meant to calm, to soothe. And then she purrs for him, a low, steady vibration, the kind that settles in the chest and melts through tension like heat on ice.

Cathal shudders. His breathing stutters, fingers twitching where they grip her. She rubs her cheek against his, scent-marking him back, slow and deliberate.

“You did so well,” she croons. “Kept your pack safe. Protected me.” She presses a kiss to his temple, the praise warm and easy, instinctual. “Such a good alpha.”

Cathalgrowls. Low, guttural –hungry. And before I can blink, he fists a hand in her hair andtakes.

The kiss is brutal. Not soft, not sweet – possessive, claiming, ananimalneeding to reaffirm what’s his. He bites at her lips, drinks down her sharp gasp, presses into her like he could crawl beneath her skin. And Devlin – fuckingDevlin– whines for him, melts for him, claws at his shoulders and opens up, lets him devour her like heneedsit to breathe.

Heat slams into my gut like a punch. I shift my stance before it gets obvious, but it doesn’t stop the blood from pooling low, doesn’t stop my fingers from twitching at my sides.

She purrs against his mouth, the sound thrumming through both of them, throughallof us as her arousal floods the bond. Cathal’s grip tightens, his other hand curling around her throat, not squeezing – just holding. Justclaiming. He growls something low, something only for her, and she shudders against him, breaking the kiss only to nuzzle into his jaw, press her lips to the hinge of it, offer herself up to him like it’s instinct.

The wildness in Cathal doesn’t disappear, but it dims. The shaking slows. His grip on her tightens for a moment before finally, finally easing.

Devlin keeps purring for him, keeps stroking through his hair, grounding him. And bit by bit, he comes back to himself and he eventually releases her enough so that she can breathe. He doesn’t let her go though, keeping her in his embrace, her bare feet dangling above the ground.

“I want to go home,” she mutters, her voice steady but tired.

I exchange a look with Tadhg and Cathal, and without a word, we nod in unison.

“Then let’s go home.”

The tension still lingers in the air as we make our way back to the hotel, but it’s different now. Less like a fight waiting to happen and more like an aftershock – something raw and frayed at the edges but settling.

Cathal walks a step behind, his presence solid, steady. Protective. When I glance over my shoulder he still looks murderous, but he’s no longer a danger to anyone. He’s slowly coming back to us. I think having Devlin in his arms helps.

No one speaks.

Not when we slip through the hotel doors, not when we step into the lift, not even when we reach the suite.

It’s only when the door clicks shut behind us that Devlin finally exhales, her whole body shuddering like she’s been holding herself together by sheer force of will.

Reluctantly, our pack lead puts her down, but he bands an arm across her chest to keep her from leaving or straying too far. With difficulty, she turns in his embrace to face us, and something in her expression undoes me.

There’s no fear there. No doubt. No hesitation.

Only certainty.

“I’m sorry I ran,” she says, eyes flicking between us, her voice quieter now, but no less steady. “I was scared. Of what this means. Of whatImean to you. I freaked out for a second, worrying about how my life is going to change now, and for a moment I got scared.” Her lips press together, and then she shakes her head. “But I’m not scared anymore.”

Tadhg moves first, stepping in close and cupping her face with both hands. His touch is careful, reverent. “We would have chased you to the ends of the earth,” he says, his forehead pressing to hers. “You have to know that.”

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