Page 29 of Knot Ruined

My mind drifts back to yesterday, to the way she looked when she shattered that bitch’s wrist like it was nothing. That sharp, dark smile, the way she didn’t hesitate, the absolute certainty in her movements.

I sigh to myself, shifting slightly, almost cursing, when my cock hardens at the memory. I never claimed to be a good man. Something about my omega causing violence? Yeah, that shit does it for me.

“She was disappointed we didn’t get to go out last night,” I murmur, dragging my thumb along the rim of my coffee cup. “Upset that work got in the way.” I exhale, shaking my head. “But damn, if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a woman do.”

The others hum in agreement, but a soft giggle breaks through the kitchen before anyone can respond.

We all turn instantly, like fucking animals catching a scent on the wind.

And there she is.

Standing in the doorway, bare-legged, glowing, drowning in one of Jace’s shirts.

I immediately glare at him, and the bastard just smirks, leaning back against the counter like he knew exactly what he was doing. Lucky fucking bastard. I want her in my clothes. I want her wrapped in my scent.

Her blue hair is wild, tangled from sleep. Or Romano, who has a self-satisfied smile, hovers behind her. The look on her face is everything.

Dreamy. Satisfied. Sweet as sin.

Her bright blue eyes shine, still a little dazed, and the scent of honeyed peaches is thick in the air, wrapping around me, making my mouth water.

A sharp pang runs through my chest, and I swallow hard, pushing it down. She can’t scent us. She doesn’t know we’re hers. She still seems uncertain, still hesitant to believe what’s in front of her.

I can’t fucking stand it.

I set my coffee down and stalk toward her, my movements slow, deliberate. She watches me with amusement, but I can see the flash of something else—something curious that makes me want to unravel her.

When I reach her, I don’t hesitate. I lift her up, grinning, when she lets out a surprised squeak before instinctively wrapping those gorgeous legs around my waist.

Mine.

“Good morning, Princess.”

I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in, pressing soft, teasing kisses against her delicate skin. She’s warm, her scent sinking into my lungs like an addiction I’ll never get over. My mouth fills with saliva—my canine’s ache. I want to mark her. Right here. Right now. She laughs, wiggling in my grip. “Morning, V. That tickles.”

V.

My brain short-circuits for a second, my grip on her tightening just slightly at the sound of it. She gave me a nickname. She tries to tuck her head to her shoulder, but I rub my scruff against her throat, making her shriek with laughter.

Behind me, Kingston chuckles, stepping forward to pry her out of my grip gently. I let him—for now.

She turns into him easily, her small hands curling into his shirt as he presses a lingering kiss to the top of her head. He murmurs something to her, voice too low for me to catch, but whatever he says has her blushing pink.

She beams up at him, and he gives her a soft smile before gently nudging her toward Jace.

Jace doesn’t wait. He scoops her up effortlessly, hands firm, sure, and kisses her so deeply her fingers curl into his hair for balance.

By the time he sets her down on a stool at the counter, she looks dazed, breathless, and completely wrecked. I smirk, running my tongue along my teeth. We’re going to ruin her.

Romano hums cheerfully, already plating food, and within seconds, we’re sitting down, ready to eat.

Fallon takes a bite of eggs and lets out a soft, happy hum, her whole body wiggling slightly in her seat.

“Gods,” she moans, eyes fluttering shut. “This is so yummy.”

Jace just smirked, leaning back in his chair, pleased to see her so happy.

I watch Fallon’s every movement, the slight flick of her wrist as she steals bacon from Kingston’s plate, the way her blue eyes sparkle when she smiles. I crave her laughter and smiles and the delicate scent of honeyed peaches that now clings permanently to my clothes. But how can I possibly deserve her sweetness? A twisted fuck like me, stained with violence, steeped in shadows. The hands that touch her so gently are the same ones I've used to break bones, to hurt, to destroy.

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