Page 71 of Knot Ruined

He chuckles, the sound vibrating warmly against my skin. “Understood, Princess. I’m here purely to take care of you.”

True to his word, he takes the shampoo bottle from my hand, helping to gently lather my long hair. The slide of his fingertips massaging my scalp makes me sigh softly in appreciation. He asks me about The House of Creed. and what started it. I tell him the story behind it. Growing up, wanting to be a princess, pretending to marry my stuffed animals. “For me, it was always about the dress.” I murmur to him.

Voss carefully rinses out the conditioner as I stand lazily beneath the spray, relaxed and thoroughly pampered. He grabs a washcloth, gently scrubbing my body until every inch of me feels refreshed and new again.

After quickly washing himself, he steps out first, wrapping a towel around his hips. Reaching back inside, he gathers me into another plush towel, carefully drying me off with gentle strokes before helping me slip into my fluffy emerald-green robe. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, tenderness softening his usually fierce features.

“All done,” he murmurs. “Feeling better?”

I nod, smiling sleepily. “Much.”

Romano appears in the doorway, eyes soft, offering a gentle smile as he holds out a hand to me. Voss squeezes my hip gently and steps aside, giving Romano room to sweep me into the bedroom. I sit obediently on the padded vanity stool, and Romano combs through my wet hair with a practiced, gentle hand. He dries my hair with a blow dryer, carefully detangling and smoothing each strand until it falls soft and silky around my shoulders.

“You’re good at this,” I murmur, relaxed, almost drifting off again.

Romano chuckles warmly. “Anything for you, little love.”

When he’s finished, he guides me gently downstairs, his hand warm and steady against my lower back. Kingston waits patiently on the plush leather couch, his hair damp. even exhausted, I can appreciate how gorgeous he is in nothing but a pair of sweets. Romano nudges me down beside him, and Kingston instantly draws my legs into his lap, his touch careful, possessive, and soothing.

He picks up a basket full of oils and lotions from the coffee table, warming the lotion in his hands before gently working it into my aching calves and thighs, kneading away lingering tension from my muscles. His touch is firm but tender, sending shivers of relaxation through my limbs.

“Feel good?” Kingston asks, voice deep, eyes filled with gentle affection.

“So good,” I sigh contentedly, letting my head fall back against the cushions.

Before I can drift off entirely, Jace strides into the living room, his powerful presence commanding attention. He gently scoops me up, laughing softly at my startled squeak, and carries me into the kitchen. Setting me carefully onto a stool, he slides a towering plate of fluffy pancakes drizzled in syrup and topped with fresh strawberries in front of me.

My stomach rumbles in appreciation as my eyes widen with delight. “You guys spoil me way too much.”

Romano leans against the doorway, smiling warmly. “Impossible.”

“You deserve every second of it,” Voss adds, settling onto the stool beside me. His expression is softer than I’ve ever seen, love shining clear in his dark eyes.

Kingston and Jace exchange amused smiles, both watching me with indulgent affection. Kingston’s fingers brush gently through my now-dry hair. “Get used to it, little one. Spoiling you is our new favorite hobby.”

Despite my blush, I grin brightly at all four of them, warmth spreading through my chest. “Fine, I suppose I’ll allow it—but only because I love you all.”

The beaming smiles they give me in response make my heart ache with love.

“Good,” Kingston says firmly, eyes filled with devotion. “Because we love you, too. Always.”

Romano

May 15th

4:26 P.M

“Holy shit—holy fucking shit! Guys, get your asses up here! Now!” My voice is loud enough to echo off my tech room's sleek, metal-and-glass walls.

Immediately, a rush of heavy footsteps pounds up the stairs, sounding like an entire stampede headed my way. The door swings open violently as my packmates burst in—Kingston leading, fierce and alert; Jace tense with controlled readiness; Voss prowls like a predator, his dark eyes already blazing with intensity. Fallon stumbles in last, her blue eyes wide, her cheeks flushed from sprinting after them. Her silky blue hair cascades around her shoulders, tousled from running.

“Either you guys need shorter legs, or I desperately need better stamina,” she pants, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “Holy fuck, I’m dying.”

I laugh at her exaggerated dramatics, loving how even now, amidst chaos, she always makes me smile. But my expression quickly sobers as I spin back to the multiple glowing monitors and intricate tracking systems before me.

“I finally found out what they’re doing with the missing omegas.” My voice turns sharp, rage simmering just beneath the surface. The silence that settles over the room feels charged, almost electric, as everyone shifts forward, alert and tense.

Kingston steps closer, placing a firm hand on Fallon’s lower back, grounding her as he braces for whatever I’m about to reveal. Jace folds his arms, jaw ticking, clearly sensing it won’t be good. Voss’s eyes narrow dangerously, fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically, already prepared for violence.

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