Page 89 of Knot Happening

"That was worth waiting for," she whispers.

"Was it worth the risk?" I ask, because I need to know she's not going to regret this in the morning.

"Ask me again in fifty years," she says, and the promise implicit in that response makes my heart race.

I want to kiss her again, want to pull her closer and never let her go, but my phone buzzes insistently in my pocket. I ignoreit the first time, but when it buzzes again immediately, I know it must be important.

"I should check this," I tell Belle reluctantly.

"Of course," she says, stepping back slightly but staying close enough that I can feel her warmth.

The text is from Marcus, and the words make my blood run cold:Emergency. Come home now. Lost the courthouse contract.

"What is it?" Belle asks, clearly reading the change in my expression.

"Marcus," I say, already moving toward the car. "There's been some kind of crisis with work."

Belle doesn't hesitate. "Then we need to get to him."

The simple acceptance, the immediate assumption that his crisis is our crisis, makes something tight in my chest loosen. This is what pack feels like. This is what it means to have someone who doesn't question whether they belong in your life.

The drive back to our house takes twenty minutes, and I spend the entire time trying to figure out what could have gone wrong with the courthouse renovation project. It's Marcus's biggest contract this year, the kind of project that could establish his company as a major player in historic preservation. Losing it would be devastating, both financially and professionally.

Belle doesn't try to make small talk during the drive. She seems to understand that I need to focus, need to process whatever we're about to walk into. But she keeps her hand on my arm, a steady presence that helps keep me grounded.

When we pull into the driveway, I can see Marcus pacing in the living room through the front windows. Felix is sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, and the sight of both of them looking defeated makes my protective instincts flare.

"Stay close to me," I tell Belle as we get out of the car. "Marcus doesn't handle setbacks well, especially when they involve his work."

"Is he dangerous when he's angry?" she asks, and I can smell the spike of concern in her scent.

"Not dangerous," I say quickly. "Just... intense. He takes business failures personally, and when he's upset, he tends to lash out at whatever's closest."

Belle nods, squaring her shoulders like she's preparing for battle. "Then let's go help him."

We find Marcus exactly where I expected to find him, standing in the middle of the living room, his suit jacket discarded, his tie loosened, running his hands through his hair in the way he does when he's trying not to punch something.

"What happened?" I ask without preamble.

Marcus turns to face us, and I can see the fury and hurt warring in his expression. "Ashwood Construction," he says, spitting the name like a curse. "

They undercut our bid by thirty percent. Thirty fucking percent, Theo. There's no way they can do the job properly for that price."

"Maybe they can't," Felix says from the couch, his voice tired.

"But the city council doesn't care about that. They care about saving money, and Ashwood convinced them they could deliver the same quality for less."

"It's bullshit," Marcus snarls, resuming his pacing.

"Richard Ashwood doesn't know the first thing about historic preservation. He's going to butcher that courthouse, strip out all the original architectural details, turn it into some generic municipal building."

I can smell the rage radiating off him, the way his alpha pheromones are spiking with territorial aggression. This isn't just about losing a contract. This is about watching somethingbeautiful and historic get destroyed by someone who doesn't understand its value.

"There has to be something we can do," I say. "Legal challenges, public pressure..."

"Like what?" Marcus snaps. "They followed all the proper procedures. The city council voted unanimously to accept the lower bid. It's done, Theo. Three years of planning, months of research into period-appropriate materials and techniques, all wasted because some hack convinced them he could do it cheaper."

Belle has been quiet through this exchange, standing close to my side, taking in the full scope of Marcus's distress. I can smell the way her scent is shifting, becoming calmer and more grounding, like she's unconsciously trying to balance the emotional chaos in the room.

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