Page 9 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

Kit didn’t move, her posture slightly more relaxed now, as though those few moments they’d shared had recharged something essential within her.

I exchanged glances with my brothers over her head, communicating silently. This was the first time in days we’d seen that spark relit in her, and we wouldn’t waste the moment. We wouldn’t let her waste away, sacrificing her health while she fought for ours.

The Alpha in each of us urged us to care for and protect our Omega.

“You should eat more,” I coaxed gently, reclaiming the abandoned food and placing it back in her hands. “Tommy will kick our asses if we let you waste away while he’s napping.”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Can’t have that.”

The normalcy of the exchange settled something restless in my chest.

Kit hummed around the fork as she tasted the pasta, and Dimitri’s thumb smoothed over her neck once more, his expression softening as he purred out the two words she’d always loved. “Good girl.”

And there was that blush again, letting me know everything was going to be alright. That we reallywouldcome through this.

We were changed—all of us, both mentally and physically. Gio’s shoulder surgery, my bruised ribs, D’s battered body—but the real transformation was in our Omega. She’d tasted violence and hadn’t broken. She’d become part of our world in a way we’d never intended.

Her wounds differed from ours—invisible yet soul deep. And unfortunately, they were something medicine couldn’t fix. I knew we were all worried about the day they caught up with her once we were all well and back home again. Emotional scars often ran deeper than physical ones, and I feared how she’d cope with the weight of what she’d had to do.

As I watched her take another small bite to appease me, I caught Gio’s expression darkening. I recognized that look—had seen it countless times before a hit, before vengeance was delivered. Cold, calculated, deadly. I knew what he was thinking without him saying a single damn word.

Rocco Valentino would pay for all he’d done to our family. To our Omega.

The thought of killing Rocco—of ending the Valentino line once and for all—filled me with a savage satisfaction. Not just for business, not just for family honor, but forher. For the shadows that still haunted our mate’s eyes, for the nightmares that still woke her screaming, for the scars—visible and invisible—that mapped her body, her heart, her soul.

D gave a slight nod—permission, understanding, agreement. He knew what needed to be done as well as we did.

We’d keep Kit safe, get Tommy home, and then hunt down the asshole who’d caused us so much suffering.

Because until Rocco was dealt with, Kitania would never feel truly safe. She’d live with one eye on the door, one ear listening for danger. And after everything she’d endured, safety was theleastof what she deserved.

She deservedeverything. Every. Good. Thing.

I moved to Kitania’s other side, completing the circle around her—a shield. Apack. My fingers brushed against her arm, needing to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin.

“We’ve got you, Angel,” I murmured. “We’re with you.”

Her eyes met mine, those ice-blue depths seeing more than I sometimes wanted her to. She didn’t respond verbally, but she leaned into me, accepting the claim, the protection.

And in that small gesture was trust—the most precious gift she could give any of us after what she’d been through. Trust that we would keep her safe. Trust that we would avenge what had been done to her. To Tommy. To all of us. Trust that, somehow, we would find our way through this storm to the calm peace that waited on the other side.

I’d never thought peace was possible for people like us. But for her, I was willing to fight for it.

And it started with putting Rocco Valentino in the ground.

four

TOMMAS

Consciousness slammed into me like a fuckin’freight train. I choked out a ragged breath, a riot of sterile whites and beeping monitors reminding me where I was.

Fuckin’ hell.I was still alive.

My insides screamed, my veins burning with a new dose of painkillers. And suddenly, it all came rushing back. The fight, being shot, the hospital…

God, how long had I been checked out?

Past the half-drawn blinds, the sky was light blue, but I had no idea if it was morning or evening. Hell, I didn't know how many days had passed either, only that I’d been here a while, swimming in and out of consciousness. Time lost all meaning in here, but the better I started to feel, the more alert I became, the more I wanted to get my fuckin’ bearings. I hated feeling so disoriented, sodisconnected. To lose track of the days. To have no goddamn clue what was happening beyond these four walls.

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