Page 13 of Knot Broken

Probably the one Jex slammed like a sledgehammer. Jex plants a boot between the man’s shoulder blades and snarls, “You picked the wrong fucking house.”

Fox wipes his blade on the guy’s vest and exhales, the tension in his shoulders barely easing. “We need answers. But I think it’s safe to say they weren’t here to deliver a fruit basket.”

I roll my jaw, then swipe my sleeve across my mouth, smearing sweat and blood. I turn and head back to the bedroom.

The second the door creaks open, I see her. Violet hasn’t moved. Still crouched, still ready, blade in hand. Eyes alert, expression unreadable. Her chest rises and falls slow and steady—controlled. Focused.

“It’s clear,” I say softly.

She exhales, pushing to her feet, but doesn’t relax. Doesn’tsheathher knife either.

That’s my girl.

She steps into the hallway and sees them—the three restrained intruders on her living room floor. One unconscious. Two bleeding. All handled. Her gaze sweeps over them, then up to the bullet hole in the wall. Her expression doesn’t change. But then she tilts her head. Lifts one brow. “Well,” she says, dry as the desert, “that was fuckingrude.”

My body stutters between a laugh and a groan, and I move on instinct—wrapping her in my arms, hauling her close, crushing her against me like I’ll never get enough.

“You’re unreal,” I murmur against her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She still smells like lemon frosting and fury—sweet and sharp, sunshine wrapped in switchblades—my favorite combination.

She sighs against me, the tension in her shoulders finally giving in as she melts into my chest. Her knife is still in one hand, but the edge of her cheek brushes against my skin, soft and warm. The slight motion—barely there—is instinctive, like she’s grounding herself in touch.

My purr rumbles to life before I can stop it, low and deep in my chest. It vibrates between us, and I feel her melt. She’s safe now.

I tighten my arms around her, just a bit. Protective. Possessive. Grateful. Over her shoulder, I spot Fox leaning against the wall, his pistol now holstered but his body still tense, stillwatching.His eyes are on Violet, and they’re soft in a waythat’s rare for him, but also trained right at her bare legs. I notice the way he subtly shifts his stance, adjusting himself with a grimace that makes me smirk.

I am in the same boat, to be honest.

He catches my look and flips me off without breaking eye contact, but there’s no heat in it—just that shared, silent language between brothers. I mouth,suffer,and his eyes narrow in return. Jex huffs a quiet breath nearby, clearly biting back a laugh of his own.

Violet makes a soft, curious sound and pulls back just far enough to glance up at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say smoothly, brushing a knuckle down the curve of her jaw. “Just enjoying the view.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she lets herself lean in again, cheek resting right over my heart. And I swear, for one perfect second, everything goes still.

Violet

May 20th

3:10 A.M

Men broke into my house. My house. Armed men. I am both furious and absolutely fucking terrified.

If my mates hadn’t been here… I swallow the thought down before it can fully form because I know exactly what would have happened. These men weren’t here to scare me. They weren’t here to steal my stuff.

They came to kill me.

The realization sits heavy in my chest, cold and sharp. My hands tremble slightly as I glance around, my gaze landing on my back door. A pane of glass is missing, a jagged hole where they must’ve slipped inside.

My breathing is too fast, my pulse hammering at the inside of my skull, but I force myself to move forward. I won’t let them see fear.

One of the men still groans on the floor, his body twisted awkwardly where Jex and Dare left him after the fight. I crouch beside him, tilting my head as I twirl the knife in my grip. Then I tap the flat side against his cheek, coaxing his dazed eyes open until we’re eye to eye.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to break things in someone else’s house?” I ask, voice light, almost conversational.

Dare snorts out a quiet laugh, and I hear Fox mutter something under his breath, but before I can press further, Jex loops an arm around my waist and hauls me back against him. I stiffen at first, but then I breathe him in—dark espresso and chocolate, rich and grounding—and my pulse slows.

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