Page 6 of Knotting else Matters

We stepped into the hotel lobby, and he practically deposited me by the entrance. I stumbled a bit, caught myself, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. This was fun.

“Honestly, I’d say you’re the best bodyguard I’ve ever had, but the competition isn’t fierce. The last one I had was a stray cat.”

“If you were mine to guard, you wouldn’t be talking like this.”

“Ooh, scary. Keep that up, and I might actually start respecting you.”

He shot me a glare that could have set off a fire alarm. I just flashed another bright smile and adjusted my sunglasses.

“Lead the way. I’m ready for this sacred day of overly fancy bonding and family awkwardness. And seriously, if you’re hiding coffee somewhere, just tell me now. I’ll pay you in sarcasm.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was pure gravel, his patience hanging by a thread.

I followed him with a bounce in my step, the pounding in my head almost worth it just to see the way his shoulders tensed whenever I opened my mouth.

He led me through the lobby, past the polite smiles of the staff and the hushed whispers of guests, straight to a sleek, black SUV parked at the entrance. Of course, it was black—nothing but the most intimidating vehicle for my charming personal guard dog.

He opened the passenger door and stood there, waiting, all hard lines and rigid posture. I hesitated for half a second, then smirked.

“So, what’s next? Are you my personal driver now? Gonna open all my doors, call me ‘ma’am,’ maybe even throw in a cheerful ‘have a great day?’”

“Get in.” He snarled, and I half expected the car to growl in sympathy.

“Wow, such warmth. It’s like riding with a sunbeam.” But I climbed in, settling into the plush leather seat, and he closed the door—maybe a little harder than necessary.

He slid into the driver’s seat, his presence somehow making the entire spacious interior feel smaller. He adjusted the mirror, and his dark, stormy gaze met mine for a second before he started the engine.

“Here’s the deal,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “You are going to be polite, respectful, and under no circumstances are you going to embarrass Sophie today.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sheer arrogance of that statement. “Oh, really? And here I was planning to start a food fight during the sacred mating rehearsal. Thanks for the heads-up.”

“I’m serious.” His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “Sophie cares about you, and this is the most important week of her life. Don’t ruin it with your—”

“My what?” I shot back, crossing my arms. “My lack of reverence for your sacred pack traditions? My obvious distaste for growling Alpha man-children who think everyone should bow to them?”

His jaw clenched. “Your disrespect. Your constant sarcasm. Your—”

“Oh, my terrible attitude?” I leaned back, sunglasses sliding down just enough for him to see the glare I was giving him. “Listen here. I may not be on board with this whole magical mating parade, but I love Sophie. I’d do anything for her. And maybe this whole ‘wolves playing house’thing isn’t my style, but I can keep it together for her.”

The car turned a sharp corner, and I reached out to steady myself, my hand brushing against the soft leather armrest. Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, and even the wolf inside me stirred—usually so quiet, so dormant—now pacing restlessly beneath my skin.

“Can you?” he asked finally, voice a little softer but still laced with steel.

“Yes, I can. Because despite whatever you think of me, I’m not here to ruin anything for Sophie. I’m here because she asked me to be. Who the fuck invited you?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze locked on the road, his jaw still tense. “She means a lot to you.”

“She’s my sister. The one person who still believes in me no matter what. I’m not gonna screw this up for her.”

The tiniest hint of a frown softened his glare, but then it was gone, replaced by that familiar wall of grump. “Good. Because if you do—”

“You’ll growl at me? Glare some more? I’m quaking in my not-at-all-fancy boots.”

“I could have you thrown out,” he shot back.

I laughed, a sharp, bright sound that cut through the tension. “Thrown out of a mating ceremony? Oh, please do. That would make my year.”

“Why do you do that?” He snapped, his fingers tightening on the wheel.

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