Page 29 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

I stared at him. “What?”

“You heard me. Hit me. Right here.” He tapped the center of his palm.

I gave a weak punch, barely making contact.

Gio’s expression remained neutral. “Again. Harder this time.”

I tried once more, putting slightly more force behind it.

“Kit.” His voice dropped, taking on the edge that made my Omega instincts snap to attention. “Stop playing. Hit. Me.”

Heat crawled up my neck—embarrassment mixed with a flicker of irritation. He was attempting to help, but the command in his tone awoke something rebellious in my chest.

“I’m trying,” I growled, frustration leaking into my words.

“Try harder,” he countered, gentle yet firm. “You’ve got more in you than that, Sweetness. I know it.”

I knew he was pushing me for my own good, but at the moment, it was hard to remember that I’d asked for this. That I needed Gio, the trainer, not Gio, my Alpha.

My jaw clenched. “I know…”

His eyes darkened. “Then show me.”

Something in me snapped. The memory of every time I’d felt powerless, every moment of fear and uncertainty, coalesced into a burning point behind my sternum. I threw my weight into the punch, connecting with Gio’s palm with enough force that I felt the impact vibrate up my arm—not pain, butpower.

Gio’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. “There she is.”

Pride bloomed in my chest, foreign but welcome.

“Again,” he instructed.

We moved through a series of techniques—blocks, strikes, how to break different holds. With each successful movement, my confidence grew. My body, so often a source of vulnerability, began to feel like something I could control. I may be small, but I was learning that I was mighty.

Sure, I’d neverin a million yearsbe as strong as Gio, but I could use the parts of myself that others perceived as weaknesses and transform them into strengths. Being short and petite made me fast and nimble compared to a man of Gio’s size, and I used it to my advantage.

From the sidelines, Enzo occasionally offered advice.

“Turn your hip more into it,” he called as I practiced a sidekick. “More power that way.”

I glanced over, surprised to find his gaze fixed on me with unusual intensity, eyes sharp and assessing, like he was taking mental notes on what I excelled at and what I needed to work on.

“Here,” Gio said, reclaiming my attention. “If someone grabs you from behind—” He positioned himself at my back, wrapping a muscular arm around my throat in a loose hold. “You’ve got options. Stomp the instep, elbow to the ribs, or—”

“Or,” Enzo interrupted, pushing off from the wall, “you can use their weight against them.” He approached, motioning for Gio to release me. “Mind if I show her?”

Gio stepped away, his posture subtly shifting to something more alert, more territorial. “Go ahead.”

Enzo took Gio’s place behind me, chest pressed against my back. His heart beat steady against my shoulder blades as his arms encircled me—not threatening, but close enough that my skin prickled with awareness.

“When they’ve got you like this,” he said, voice low near my ear, “they think they’re in control. But you’ve got leverage.”

As he demonstrated the escape technique, I caught a whiff of something that didn’t belong—smoke and a hint of alcoholbeneath his usual scent. When I turned to look at him, his eyes met mine with an unreadable expression before his familiar smile slid back into place, masking everything he didn’t want me to see.

The truth was, I’d been worried about him since Nick’s death, but there was nothing I could do if he wouldn’t let me in.

“See? Easy,” he commented, releasing me. “Try it on Gio.”

The rest of the session passed in a blur of movement and sweat. After an hour, my muscles ached, but I felt more alive than I had in weeks. My body hummed with a strange new energy as I circled Gio on the mat.

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