Page 120 of Chain Me Knot

Asher slams into James, all fury and muscle, pinning him to the wall so hard the plaster cracks. Phoenix barrels into Derek, both crashing to the floor in a chaotic tangle of limbs. Soren rushes to my side, placing himself between me and the fight, weapon drawn and voice cold as steel. “They won’t touch you again, Emma.”

James fights with a wild, animal panic, twisting and scrabbling against Asher’s grip. Desperation beams in his eyes. He won’t go quietly, not now that he sees the ruin of his pack and the certainty of his fate. His hand darts to his waistband, slick with sweat, fumbling as he rips free a small, black pistol.

The glint of a barrel catches the corridor lights. His gaze locks on Asher, pupils blown wide, teeth bared in a snarl. This isn’t surrender. This is murder, plain and simple.

“Asher!” For a single suspended second, the coppery taste of terror singes my tongue.

Phoenix swings his own gun up in one smooth, desperate arc, his eyes hard, mouth set, and pulls the trigger. The flash of light blinds me and the scent of burnt metal and cordite follows the boom of the gun.

James spasms. His finger convulses on the trigger, but his pistol never fires. Instead, he drops to the floor, the gun spinning out of reach. Blood pools beneath him, bright and spreading on the carpet. His chest heaves once, twice, then goes still.

Phoenix stiffens, shoulders trembling, breath choppy as he lowers his weapon. Soren stays alert to any other potential threat. Derek’s eyes flick from James’s lifeless body to Phoenix’s smoking gun and over to Asher and Ronan—both of them bloodied, bloody-minded, and closing in. His breaths come in ragged pants, the last of his bravado stripping away, face ashen. He knows—any fool can see it—there will be no deals, no sweet talk, no way out except through cold, hard justice.

But Derek’s pride is carved too deep for surrender.

He makes his choice in the blink of an eye. He sprints to the large window at the end of the hallway that overlooks the sparkling city beyond and hurls himself through the glass.

“Fuck.” Phoenix sprints forward, shoving broken glass aside to peer down. His voice is low and grim. “He’s dead.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence. The corridor is a wreck of broken glass, blood, and the dead monsters who ruined so manylives.

Asher’s hands find me, strong and shaking, framing my face as he pulls me from Soren’s hold and looks me over, frantic and thorough. His eyes are wild, dark with terror and raw relief, searching for blood, bruises, or any sign I’ve been hurt.

“Love. Emma, look at me.” His thumbs brush the streak of tears from my cheeks. “Are you hurt? Did he…” His voice breaks, fear too sharp, and he forces a steadier breath. “Tell me you’re all right.”

His hands skim down my arms, fingertips cataloguing every inch, every shiver. I shake my head, breathless, trying to manage a weak smile. “I’m okay. He didn’t get a chance. I’m not hurt, Ash. I’m not. I swear.”

Phoenix slides in behind me, anchoring me to reality when my world wants to spin off its axis. “They’re gone. Finally gone out of your life.”

“They’ll never touch you again, Emma.” Soren shudders as he pulls me into his arms, tucking my head beneath his chin, enveloping me in the strong, clean lineof his scent. His body trembles, the aftershocks of violence and relief vibrating through him.

For a heartbeat, I let myself collapse into him, gathering the warmth of all three—the fierce, desperate relief. The monsters are gone. And I am not alone.

Ronan stands back, his big frame battered but watchful, a silent sentinel against anything that might still threaten, but his presence brings me back to reality.

Asher leans in, his hands still shaking on my skin, and inhales sharply. His eyes widen and nostrils flare. His entire focus narrows to the scent pouring off me. My wild honeysuckle and vanilla is tangled thick with fear and adrenaline alongside the deeper, honeyed edge of my heat.

“Omega…” His voice is hoarse, warning and worry layered together, jaw tight as his eyes search mine. “Your scent. You’re going into heat. Love, it’s strong. Too strong. It isn’t safe for you here. Not now. Not with so many alphas and so much blood in the air. We need to get you out.”

My heart stutters. The heat is gathering inside me, the hunger and ache growing, but I shake my head. “It’s a little way off. We still have time.” I scan each of their faces, pleading. “Please, we have to find Leah. She’s so close. We can’t leave her. Not after all this. Please.”

Ronan, swiping blood from his jaw, nods grimly. “There’s another door leading out from that room. The commissioner must’ve slipped out through the back. That’s why we lost him. The longer we wait, the less chance we have of reclaiming her.”

Asher’s scent turns sharp, smoky and protective. He bares his teeth as he growls, “If you’re in danger, Emma, this mission is finished. I’m not losing you. Not for anything. Not even for Leah.”

I meet his furious gaze unflinching, desperate. “Please don’t let them win. You need to clear your name and the only way to do that is catching him in the act. I want you to be free. I don’t want to live in the shadows because we’ve done nothing wrong. Stop them before they can do to someone else what they did to me.”

Asher curses under his breath, rage and devotion colliding behind his eyes. Phoenix’s hand squeezes my shoulder, and Soren presses a kiss to my temple. “That’s our girl.”

After a heartbeat, Asher speaks into the microphone clipped to his sleeve, voice clipped and urgent: “Adrian, Cole—get to our position. Bring Gabriel and Jax, now. We need backup as fast as you can get here. The situation is urgent.”

It feels like hours pass in those long, tense moments, but it can’t be more than a few minutes before Jax and Gabriel come rushing into the corridor. They’re a wall of calm power wreathed in formalwear. Jax’s eyes sweep over me and then the corridor, lips set in a merciless line. Gabriel glances at the bodies, the carnage, then raises an eyebrow and says quietly, “Looks like we missed the fireworks.”

Ronan jerks his chin toward the empty room the commissioner and his pack went into and disappeared from. “No one’s celebrating yet. The commissioner is ahead of us, with Leah somewhere close.”

Jax positions himself to my right, solid and reassuring, while Gabriel trades a glance with Phoenix—a silent exchange full of trust and determination. Jaxlowers his head a little to meet my eyes. “You okay, sugar?” His voice is warm but undercut with an edge of ferocity. “You holding on?”

I nod, breath shaky but sure. “We’re not leaving without Leah.”

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