Page 108 of Knot Only His

My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel as I weave through LA traffic. The familiar weight of panic settles in my chest. The same feeling I had when she disappeared to LA the first time.

“Call her again,” I growl at Asher, who’s going pink as he tries to breathe in the back seat of my Porsche. “And tell me exactly what happened today.”

“My calls are going straight to voicemail,” Asher sighs, his long legs now awkwardly folded behind Oliver’s seat. “It started yesterday. We had coffee at Freya’s, then I took her home and she seemed…subdued.”

“How?” The words come out sharper than intended.

“Just...I don't know…distant. Lost in thought.” Asher shifts uncomfortably. “I should have pushed harder, asked what was amiss with her.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“Fuck off, Carver. She told us all that she wanted a night by herself. Nobody pushed her.”

Oliver’s phone chirps. “Freya says she hasn’t seen Harlow since you two were there yesterday.”

“She’s lying.” I press harder on the gas. “I can feel it.”

“Your expensive piece of metal won’t get us there any faster if you get pulled over,” Asher grumbles, bracing himself as I take a corner.

“It’ll get us there faster than your practical SUV.”

“We can still only drive the speed limit,” Asher points out, but there’s tension in his voice, too.

I growl. “Try her again.”

Asher’s fingers tap across his phone screen. The silence that follows tells me everything.

“Voicemail?” Oliver asks.

“Yeah.” Asher leans forward between the front seats. “Look, maybe she just needs space—”

“Last time she needed space, she ran across the country,” I cut him off, memories of going back to an empty apartment flooding back. “I’m not losing her again.”

Grasping the steering wheel tighter, as the streets of LA blur past, Asher adds, “She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to Jagger.”

“Unless she thought it would protect him,” Oliver says quietly.

My jaw clenches. “She’s always putting everyone else first.”

“That’s our omega.” Oliver’s words make my head snap toward him.

Our omega.

Not your omega. Not my omega.

Ours.

“Yeah,” I breathe, something loosening in my chest.

Asher adds from the back, “Whatever it takes. We’ll start at Freya’s and then work our way to the airport.”

“Don’t fucking say that,” I groan. “I’ve just signed up for three years to stay in LA. If she’s moved back to New York, I’ll have to break a leg to follow her.”

Oliver turns in his seat, studying me. “You really have it bad for her, don’t you?”

“For eleven fucking years, Oliver.” The words scrape my throat raw. “I’ve loved her since the day her family moved next door to mine. And I’m not letting her go. I’ll follow her to the end of the earth if that’s what it takes for her to love me.”

The vulnerability in my voice surprises even me.

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