Page 46 of Knot Broken

“Yes, Vi, I promise. I have everything.” She sighed softly, glancing toward her mother’s van, which was waiting patiently a few feet away. “I’m staying with Mom, and Henry already promised he’d come stay with us to keep me safe.”

She pauses thoughtfully, her eyes darkening slightly, distant for a brief moment. Her voice softens, filled with quiet emotion as she continues, “You know, Henry’s pissed, not at me, but at himself. He’s angry he let me talk him into going back to Fallon’s mom instead of staying to protect me. He’s always treated us like his daughters, and right now he’s enraged. I’ve never seen him lose his cool like this, Vi. Honestly, I never want to see him cry again for as long as I live.”

Violet kneels in front of Odette, her eyes glistening with emotion as she takes her friend’s hand, squeezing it firmly. “It wasn’t his fault, and definitely not yours. None of us could’vepredicted something like this. We’re all here for you, O. Anything you need.”

Odette nods slowly, blinking back tears. Violet leans forward carefully, hugging her friend gently but firmly, mindful of Odette’s healing injuries. “I just wish I remembered what happened.” She whispers.

Violet and I then carefully help Odette from the wheelchair into her mom’s waiting van, where her mother, Vaila—a pretty older beta woman with silver-streaked auburn hair pulled neatly into a loose bun—waits anxiously. Vaila is clearly shaken, as she hovers uncertainty. She holds her hands half-raised, unsure where or how to help without causing Odette pain, visibly fighting tears.

“Here we go, sweetheart,” Vaila whispers softly, eyes darting nervously to Violet and me with gratitude and sadness. “Let’s get you home safe.”

Violet gently closes the door after ensuring Odette is safely buckled in. She steps back, leaning slightly against my side for comfort. I wrap an arm securely around her waist, drawing strength from her warmth as we watch the van pull slowly away.

“She’ll be okay,” I whisper reassuringly into her hair, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of her head. “She’s got people who love her. Including you.”

Violet nods silently, blinking rapidly to hold back her tears. She exhales shakily, turning fully into my embrace, gripping my shirt as we watch until the van disappears down the road.

I gently squeeze Violet’s shoulder, sensing the tension still radiating off her as we stand quietly on the sidewalk in front of the hospital. The warmth of the afternoon sun seems almost out of place given everything we’ve just gone through—Violet’s friend brutalized, the bitter aftertaste of helplessness still lingering heavily in the air.

She’s quiet beside me, eyes distant, arms crossed tightly as if she could physically hold her emotions in. I hate seeing her this way—so lost, so drained from pain I can’t erase. But maybe I can give her something else, a distraction—purpose.

Leaning down, I brush my lips softly against the shell of her ear, my voice low and conspiratorial. “I think I know exactly what might take your mind off things.”

She blinks up at me slowly, eyes shadowed but curious. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

I let a slight smirk curve my lips, making sure my voice holds enough dark promise to catch her attention. “Helping us destroy an auction house.”

She snorts softly, but the spark of interest immediately lights up her eyes. Something fierce and determined replaces the vulnerability, her posture straightening as her confidence returns. A dangerous smile spreads slowly across her face, transforming her from wounded to warrior.

“You’re damn right,” she says firmly, voice stronger now, eyes glittering with renewed fire. “I definitely feel like fucking someone’s day up.”

I chuckle darkly, pride swelling in my chest as I wrap an arm securely around her waist, guiding her toward our truck. “That’s my girl. Let’s go ruin some lives.”

Fox

June 6th

12:12 P.M

The library—the so-called war room—is charged with intensity, the air humming with quiet tension as we finalize our plans. Maps and detailed surveillance photos spread across the heavy oak table, pinned down by mugs of coffee and empty takeout containers. Fallon’s meticulous notes are scattered amongst them, scribbled in purple ink with annotations so precise it’s almost terrifying.

Violet sits beside me, legs tucked underneath her on the oversized armchair, her purple curls twisted into a messy bun. She’s quiet but focused, blue eyes sharp as she traces a fingertip over the layout of the auction house. I gently rub my thumb along the back of her neck, a silent reassurance I know she appreciates.

Across from us, Fallon and Kingston have their heads bent together, quietly debating entry points and exit routes. Fallon is fierce, passionate, radiating controlled fury that mirrors the mood of the room. Kingston is calm as always, but there’s a cold edge of barely-restrained violence beneath his careful composure.

“We’ve confirmed guard shifts,” Jex announces from beside me, tapping a printout listing names and times. His voice is steady, authoritative. “The place is heavily guarded, but their rotations leave a fifteen-minute gap between shifts at 1:45 AM. That’s our best opportunity to get in undetected.”

Dare leans against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, expression calculating. “And this new ‘M’ person is running the auction. We have actual information this time. Marcus Whitlock,” he says, voice dripping with disdain. “He’s cautious. Careful. Has no known vulnerabilities other than his arrogance. He’ll be surrounded by guards until the bidding begins. Then he’ll want to be front and center.”

“Meaning he’ll be exposed,” Romano points out, pushing up his glasses with a smirk. “Perfect time to take him out.”

“Exactly,” Jace agrees, studying a photograph of Marcus—sharp-eyed, smug, in a tailored suit. “But we have to be careful. He’s well-connected, and people notice when men like him vanish.”

Violet leans forward slightly, eyes narrowed with determination. “Then we don’t vanish him—yet. First, we dismantle his operation, free the omegas, and expose him. Make it impossible for him to hide.”

I glance at her, warmth swelling in my chest at the fierce confidence radiating from my omega. “Agreed,” I say firmly, scanning the faces around the room. “We strike fast, hard, and coordinated. Fallon and Violet can move in to handle the omegas—calming them and getting them out safely. Voss will go with them. Kingston, Dare, Jex, and I will infiltrate security, neutralize guards quietly, and secure the exits.”

“Romano will run tech, shutting down surveillance and keeping comms open,” Kingston adds, nodding in approval. “Jace will be our eyes outside, intercepting reinforcements and handling any surprises.”

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