Page 1 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

prologue

GIOVANNI

The world wavered,fuzzy as a dream. For a moment, everything was nothing. No sound. No air. Nome. Then pain—vicious and bright—seared through the haze, yanking me back. The violent thrum of it echoed in my head as I clawed toward the surface, grabbing at strands of awareness. Muffled voices. Smoke and burning debris. I pushed up from the floor, ears ringing like a thousand goddamn sirens.

My head throbbed with every movement, blood trickling hot down my temple, while the sharp pain in my side made me gasp for air. My shoulder burned like fire, but I couldn’t stop.I couldn’t. All I could think about were my brothers. Marco. Dimitri. Fuck. I needed to find them so we could get back to Kitania.

Kit…

Her beautiful face flashed through my mind, her soft laugh, the way she looked at me like I was her fucking hero. It gaveme strength, kept me going. She was my everything, and I’d be damned if I let anything happen to her.

I dragged myself forward, muscles shaking, body refusing to work right. Everything hurt like hell, but nothing else mattered except finding my pack. Making sure they were okay. That they were still alive.

I could barely see straight, my vision blurring, then clearing in vertiginous waves. I was a fucking mess, a walking wreck. But I wouldn’t go down. Not yet.

Not with so many lives hanging in the balance…

The air stank of smoke and charred metal, heavy and choking. The warehouse, once so familiar, was now unrecognizable—twisted with burning debris and shattered glass. Fire consumed the shipping crates, most of which were empty. Thank fuck for that. I stumbled over the wreckage, coughing through the haze, looking for any other signs of life. My fingers shook as I reached out to touch the nearest wall, grounding myself. And that’s when I spotted a shadow of a figure.

Marco. Slumped over, but alive. Blood soaked his shirt, and his face was screwed up in pain. But he was moving. Coughing violently, clutching his ribs, he struggled to stand.

“Fuck,” he groaned, wincing as he tried to straighten up. A long gash ran along his side, but he was on his feet, resilience written all over his stubborn face. “Gio? D? Where the hell are you guys—”

“I’m here,” I rasped, voice garbled like my vocal cords had been run through a garbage disposal. “Where’s Dimitri?”

I made my way toward him with a staggering, unsteady gait. It was a damn miracle I was upright at all. I should probably be dead right about now. Instead, heaven rejected me and hell sent me back.

Marco threw his arm around me when I was close enough, and the two of us embraced, taking a second to appreciate that we were both still breathing. Fuck. This was bad. I didn’t think we’d ever had a closer brush with death.

Marco shoved a hand through his hair, clearing it from where it had fallen over his forehead. “Where’s Dimitri?”

Together, we scanned through the smoke, desperate to find him. The familiar ache in my chest twisted tighter as minutes passed without a sign of him.

“Over there!” Marco jerked his head toward the far side of the room.

Through the haze, I spotted him, sprawled beneath a beam. My heart stopped until I saw his hand move, brushing blood and grime from his face.

“D!” I shouted, pushing forward despite the pain. Marco was right behind me, limping but determined.

“I’m alright,” Dimitri reassured, voice pained but steady. “Just… pinned.”

Marco crouched next to him, assessing his vitals, looking for signs of injuries that might not be as visible. “We got you, brother.”

Some of our men bled in from the shadows outside, and together, we lifted the beam and pushed it aside. I offered my brother a hand, and he took it, letting me pull him up. There was a furious set to his jaw as he looked around at the carnage. I’d never seen such a murderous look in his eyes before.

“They think they can take us out?” he practically snarled.

Marco clamped a hand on D’s shoulder. “We don’t die so easily.”

The warehouse groaned around us, metal screeching like a wounded beast. “We need to get the fuck outta here.”

We worked quickly, doing a quick assessment of the living and the dead, pulling those still breathing from the wreckage.Thankfully, most of our guys had been outside during the blast or the fatalities would’ve been far worse. Current count had us down seven men, though many of us were injured. Using the moonlight to guide us, we moved as a unit through the haze, past bodies—some ours, some theirs—until we reached our car.

Dimitri collapsed against the side of the vehicle, letting the sleek metal hold him up as he coughed relentlessly, nearly hacking up a lung. He sounded like he was dying, but his eyes snapped to mine with wild urgency. “Kit,” he rasped. “We have a mole. Rocco knew we were setting him up the whole goddamn time, and he’s making a move for our Omega. We”—another coughing fit—“We need to get home. Right fuckin’now.”

one

KITANIA

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