Page 157 of Knot Like Other Girls

I roll my eyes at him. So he did notice.

Bella carefully uncorks the vial to take a delicate sniff. Her eyes flutter shut. "It smells perfect, Savva. Thank you. This means so much."

I nod, stepping back to give her space. Even this small offering feels significant. We may not be Worthington empire levels of wealthy, but that doesn't mean we can't give her a secure and happy life full of the finer things she deserves as an omega. Things she hasn't been allowed to enjoy during her time with Braxley.

If she chooses us forever, that is.

"My turn," Liam announces, stepping forward. He reaches into his pocket and draws out a small well-worn book bound in soft leather. The spine is creased from repeated opening, the pages slightly yellowed with age.

"It's a collection of poetry," he says. "Passed down through my family. Thought you might like having something to read during the quieter moments."

Bella accepts the book with visible surprise. "Liam, this is obviously precious to you. Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't," he says with a grin.

Bella leafs through the little book, stopping at a page marked with a pressed wildflower. "Thank you," she says softly, placing the book in the box alongside her other treasures.

Roman clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "I have something as well."

This is unexpected. Roman, for all his leadership qualities, is not given to sentimental gestures. I watch with interest as he produces a small object from his pocket—a polished river stone, dark gray with a perfect white circle in its center.

"I found this years ago, during training in northern Italy," he explains, his deep voice unusually hesitant. "It's been a... reminder. That even in chaos, there can be perfect balance."

He places it in Bella's palm, where it fits as though made for her hand.

Bella closes her fingers around the stone, holding it tightly. "It's warm," she observes.

"I've carried it every day," Roman says simply.

"Well, shit," Troy mutters, looking uncharacteristically flustered. "If I'd known we were doing meaningful gifts, I wouldn't have gone with this."

He produces the most ridiculous stuffed animal I've ever seen—a plush, well-worn golden retriever the size of a Christmas ornament wearing sunglasses, a pink felt tongue sticking out of its mouth, and a white shirt that reads "Alpha Dog." It's absurdly cheerful, completely at odds with the more serious offerings from the rest of us.

"It's perfect," Bella laughs, accepting it with genuine delight. "Absolutely perfect."

"Really?" Troy looks relieved. "I've had him since I was in boot camp. Thought he'd make you laugh."

"I love him," she says happily, squeezing the toy into her box alongside Roman's stone and the other more serious items in her growing collection. "Does he have a name?"

Troy chuckles and rubs the back of his head. "Caesar."

As they laugh together, my contribution feels oddly impersonal now. My hand moves instinctively to my pocket, fingers brushing against the familiar weight of my pocketwatch. I've carried it with me through fourteen countries, countless missions, and every significant moment of my adult life.

"Wait," I say, just as Bella begins to close the lid. "I have something else."

All eyes turn to me as I unclip the pocketwatch from the belt loop of my slacks and lift it out by the chain, dangling it in the sunlight above Bella's outstretched palm as she stares curiously at it. Not unlike a kitten reaching for a string.

"This belonged to my grandfather, and his father before him," I explain, gently lowering it into her hand. I watch her, mesmerized as she runs her fingertips across the Cryllic engravings on the polished case, worn almost smooth fromgenerations of handling. "It's survived revolutions, wars, and all my questionable career choices."

Bella's eyes widen as she takes in the antique timepiece. "Savva, I can't take this. It's clearly precious to you."

"That's precisely why I'm offering it for your nest," I reply. "The others have given you pieces of themselves. I'd like to do the same."

"Are you sure?" Bella asks breathlessly, and I nod. Smiling nervously, she carefully opens the case to reveal the delicate clockwork within. The watch still keeps perfect time, despite being nearly a century old. "Wow…"

"My grandfather always said time is the only true constant," I tell her. "No matter what chaos surrounds us, the seconds continue their steady march forward."

Bella closes the watch with reverent care and places it in the wooden box, nestled in the velvet in a spot that's just the right size, as if it were made for the watch. "Thank you," she says softly. "I'll guard it with my life."

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