Page 63 of Knot Ruined

Voss immediately claims my legs, dragging them into his lap as his arm coils around my calves, anchoring me in place. His hold is almost desperate, possessive in a way that makes my chest ache. Jace and Romano shift closer, their eyes dark and unreadable, still cautious despite the relief simmering beneath the surface.

They don’t trust that I’m staying.

And hell, can I blame them?

I exhale deeply, pressing back into Kingston’s chest, letting the firm, steady rise and fall of his breathing ground me. I should say something—reassure them, tell them I’m not leaving. But before I can, something hits me.

Hard.

I breathe in again, this time more deeply, intending to steady myself—but instead, I freeze.

My body tenses as an onslaught of scents floods my senses.

The first one wraps around me instantly, clean, crisp, fresh rain and pine. Kingston. It’s grounding, stormy, commanding—just like him. It crashes into me like a wave, so familiar yet so new, and I barely contain the sharp breath that hitches in my throat.

Then Jace—warm cedarwood and citrus, something sharp and clean beneath it, as if laced with electricity. It prickles my skin and makes my chest tighten. My gaze snaps to his, locking onto his stormy blue eyes across the room. The way he’s watching me as if he already knows something is shifting, sends a jolt of adrenaline through me.

Beside me, Voss shifts, his grip tightening just slightly, but I feel it. Him.

Dark amber and spice.

It’s intoxicating, laced with heat and danger. It seeps into my skin, curling around my lungs like smoke, rich and all-consuming. I shiver, not from fear but from something much, much deeper.

And then—Romano.

He’s looking up at me from where he’s sitting on the floor, eyes soft, adoring—like he’s staring at something sacred. And his scent—**smoked leather and vetiver, deep, warm, and endlessly inviting—**washes over me like a slow burn, curling around my senses.

Oh, god.

My stomach drops. My skin flushes hot, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs so violently it feels like my body is trying to make room for this revelation.

I can smell them.

Not just smell them—feel them. Like puzzle pieces clicking into place, like something inevitable finally making itself known.

I’ve never felt more whole in my life.

Shock, awe, and a deep, sudden possessiveness surge inside me, flooding me so quickly that I almost feel dizzy.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe, barely realizing I’ve said it out loud. My voice is a whisper of wonder and disbelief. “We really are mates.”

Everything around me stops.

Kingston goes rigid beneath me, his fingers tightening on my hips like a vice. I feel the rapid, pounding thud of his heart against my back. His voice is tight and controlled, and he is almost afraid to hope.

“What did you just say?”

I twist slightly, needing to see their faces, needing them to understand what I’m feeling. My chest tightens, my throat burning with too many emotions at once—joy, longing, and the lingering pain of how close I came to never realizing this at all.

“You were right,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “You’re my scent-matches. I don’t know how my nose got broken. But when I woke up, I could smell.” I turn to look at Voss. “I pushed it back in myself.”

He grins at me, looking proud. I don’t tell him I freaked out the whole time.

Romano’s brows pull together in a mixture of confusion and wonder. “But…why didn’t you notice it sooner?”

“Because all I could smell was blood.” I close my eyes for half a second, the memories pressing in, trying to drag me under. I force them back. Not now. Not when I’m finally home.

“It was like I practically snorted it.” My voice trembles slightly, the weight of how close I was to never realizing this—never coming back to them fully—settling heavily in my chest.

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