Page 39 of Knotting else Matters

CHAPTER 11

Olivia

Fury was a wildfire in my veins, burning so hot I could barely see straight. I snatched my phone off the chair, my fingers practically shaking as I unlocked it, my breath coming in short, furious bursts.

Sophie. My sweet, perfect, pastel-obsessed little sister. Sophie, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, who was too kind for her own good—unless, apparently, she was hatching a master plan to manipulate me like some idiot pawn on a chessboard.

My thumb jabbed the screen, pulling up her contact. Video call. No hiding, no dodging, she was going to answer, and she was going to explain, and then she was going to regret ever trying to—

“What are you doing?”

Adrian’s voice cut through the red haze, calm, collected, like a bucket of ice water over my raging temper.

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped, the phone ringing in my ear. “I’m going to make her regret—”

His hand shot out, quick and sure, snatching the phone right out of my grip. I didn’t even see it coming. His thumb swiped across the screen, ending the call just as Sophie’s bright, cheerful face started to appear.

“What the hell?” I lunged for the phone, but he held it out of reach, his other hand catching my wrist. “Give it back!”

“I will. Once you’re thinking with your brain and not your temper.” His voice was calm, annoyingly calm, and that only stoked the fire in me.

“My temper is perfectly reasonable right now!” I snarled, trying to twist free, but his grip tightened—gentle but unyielding. “Why did you stop me? She needs to know—”

“She will. But maybe not while you’re standing in my penthouse.” His voice didn’t rise, didn’t even waver, but there was an edge there, a quiet, calculated calm that only infuriated me more. “One, you’re in my penthouse—one Sophie and Karl have visited multiple times. She’d recognize the wallpaper in two seconds.”

“Are you kidding me?” I tried to yank my wrist free, but he didn’t budge. “Who cares if she recognizes your stupid wallpaper? I want her to know I know!”

“Two,” he continued, completely unfazed by my struggle, “you have a very obvious bite mark on your neck. Unless you want to explain to Sophie why her sister suddenly looks like she got into a fight with a very possessive wolf, I suggest you pick the dress with a high neckline for the wedding.”

The heat in my face flared hotter, and my free hand instinctively flew to my neck, my fingers brushing the tender, tingling mark. “You bit me,” I whispered, half-shocked, half-furious. “Why?”

“Don’t change the subject.” His voice didn’t soften, his dark eyes fixed on me, steady, intense. “Three—are you calling Sophie to congratulate her on her plan working? Because that’s exactly what it looks like right now.”

His words hit me like a punch, the fire in my chest stuttering, choking. I took a shaky breath, then another, my pulse still racing, but the anger—the pure, blinding rage—faltered, cracking beneath the cold, steady reality of his logic.

I took a step back, my wrist slipping from his grip, my hand still pressed to my neck. “You bit me,” I whispered again, the words sharper this time. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else even thinking they had a claim on you. Because you’re mine.”

My breath caught, my pulse racing, but the white-hot fury still simmered beneath the surface. My fingers pressed harder against the mark on my neck, a sharp, biting reminder of his arrogance, his possessiveness, his infuriating calm.

“Oh, really?” I shot back, my voice sharp, mocking. I lifted my hand, mimicking his measured, condescending gesture, ticking off points with my fingers.“One—how can you be so calm, knowing that you, the almighty leader of the pack, were played like a marionette by a sweet little Omega and your dumbass brother?”

His jaw tightened, a faint, dark flicker in his eyes, but I didn’t stop. Not now.

“Two—I am not some piece of property you can just ‘claim’ whenever your possessive little heart gets twitchy.” I leaned in, my gaze locked on his, daring him to argue.

But he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. His dark eyes stayed fixed on me, unreadable, that calm, infuriating mask still in place.

“Andthree…” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going, my hand dropping, my fingers curling into a fist. “I think, in the heat of your little caveman moment, you forgot something important. You’re an Alpha. The top of the top. The king of the pack. And I’m the last letter in the Greek alphabet. A Zeta.”

His face didn’t change, but I saw the faintest, almost imperceptible shift—the way his shoulders tensed, the way his gaze narrowed just slightly.

“Not just a Zeta—the thing most packs give up for adoption, if not worse. So you can bite and claim and growl all you want, but let’s not pretend this little one-night thing is leading anywhere.”

“Olivia—”

“No.” I cut him off, the fire flaring hotter. “I’m okay with us having our fun while I’m here. I can handle a little reckless chaos. But don’t you dare try to impose your pack rules on me, Alpha.”

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