Page 269 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Finn looks through the crowd, probably trying to spot Ren, but quickly gives up. His arm slips around my shoulders, his bodyshielding mine as he helps me to my feet. “Come on,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing in my ear. “Let’s get you some space.”

The room is still filled with guests, but Finn moves quickly, keeping his body between me and anyone who might see the panic written across my face. The moment we’re outside, Finn guides me toward the side of the building, away from prying eyes. The crisp air hits my skin, and I gulp it down desperately, though it doesn’t feel like enough.

“Hailey,” Finn says, his hands framing my face, forcing me to look at him. “Listen to me. You’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just like we’ve practiced before. Come on, you can do it, sunshine.”

I try, but the words won’t come. The air won’t come. My chest heaves, my lungs burning, and tears blur my vision as I clutch his arms, trying to ground myself in the warmth of his touch.

“Talk to me,” Finn pleads, his voice trembling now. “What’s wrong? What happened back there? Was it her? Was it Veyra?”

I nod, the motion jerky and frantic, and Finn’s eyes widen slightly.

“She’s—” I choke on the words, my voice shattering under the weight of the truth. “She’s Widow. From the Academy. It’sher.”

Finn freezes, his hands gripping my arms tightly as the words sink in. His gray eyes widen, shock and disbelief flickering across his face. “What?” he breathes, the word barely audible. “Hailey, are you sure?”

I nod again, my breath hitching as a sob escapes my throat. “I’m sure,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “It’s her. I’d know her voice anywhere. I’d know her scent. It’s Widow.”

Finn’s grip tightens, his face going pale as he processes the revelation. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his silence heavy and deafening.

And then, just as the vise around my lungs begins to loosen, allowing me to draw a full breath for the first time since theballroom, a shadow moves at the edge of my vision. I turn, instinctively stepping back, but I’m not fast enough.

It happens in a blur—something flashes in the dim light, and Finn’s eyes widen with recognition a split second before he lunges toward me.

“Hailey, down!” he shouts, already reaching for me.

But the attacker is faster. A tall figure in black swings something heavy—a baton or pipe—catching me across the back of my skull. The impact is violent and sudden, sending me lurching forward with a choked gasp. White-hot pain explodes behind my eyes as I stagger.

Finn catches me before I can fall, his hands gripping my arms. “Hailey!” His voice cuts through the haze, sharp with panic as he pulls me against him, his body instinctively turning to shield me.

Through the blinding pain, I see the attacker circling, weapon raised for another strike. The figure is massive, face obscured by a dark mask, movements precise and practiced.

“Behind you!” I try to warn, but my voice comes out weak and garbled.

Finn spins, pushing me behind him as he raises his arm to defend against the blow already descending. The attacker feints, shifts direction, and strikes with brutal efficiency—not at Finn’s raised arm, but at his unprotected temple.

The sickening crack of the impact echoes in the stillness. Finn stumbles, his eyes wide with shock. I watch them roll over as consciousness slips away. He crumples to his knees, his hand still clutching my wrist even as he falls.

“Finn!” I scream, lunging toward him. The movement sends fresh waves of agony pulsing through my skull, but I don’t care. I reach for him, desperate to catch him, to protect him.

The attacker doesn’t hesitate. As I move toward Finn, the weapon swings toward me again. I try to duck, but my reflexes are too slow, my balance compromised by the first blow. Something cold and unyielding slams into the side of my head.

Pain bursts like firecrackers through my skull. My vision darkens at the edges, narrowing to a single point of focus—Finn’s face, slack and vulnerable, a thin trickle of blood running from his temple as he collapses fully onto the ground.

My legs give out, and I crumple beside him, my hands reaching blindly for his. Terror floods my veins, cold and paralyzing, as I try to push myself up, to crawl toward him, but my body won’t obey. My head throbs with relentless pain, and my vision wavers, the edges blurring in and out of focus.

“Stay down,” a low, cold voice growls above me.

I freeze, the sound sending a jolt of dread through me. It’s not a voice I recognize, but the malice in it is unmistakable.

I try to lift my head, to get a better look at the figure standing over me, but the pain is too much. My arms tremble beneath me, and I collapse back onto the cold, unforgiving ground.

“Don’t fight,” the voice commands, sharp and cruel.

I feel hands—rough and unkind—grabbing at my arms, dragging me up as my legs dangle uselessly beneath me. Panic surges through me, adrenaline momentarily cutting through the fog of pain as I start to thrash weakly in their grip.

“Let me go!” I choke out, my voice barely more than a rasp. “Finn! Finn, wake up!”

But Finn doesn’t stir. He’s still lying there, crumpled and motionless.

“Shut her up,” another voice hisses, this one sharper, more impatient.

A cloth is pressed against my face, and a sickly sweet smell floods my senses. I try to turn my head away, to hold my breath, but it’s no use. My body betrays me, dragging in a deep, involuntary gasp, and the world tilts violently.

My limbs go numb, the fight draining out of me as the darkness creeps in.

“Finn…” I whisper weakly, my voice fading to nothing.

The last thing I see before unconsciousness claims me is Finn’sstill form lying on the ground, his face pale and peaceful, as the world blurs and disappears.

And then, there’s nothing.

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