Page 119 of Knot Going Down
That thought alone detonates something inside me.
My scent is all hunger and heat. It hits like a drug, thick and cloying and impossible to ignore.
The reaction is immediate.
Every alpha in the room groans, and for a second Glenn’s eyes go glassy, rolling back in his head. The gun lowers a centimeter. Just enough.
Imove. I lunge, wrapping my legs around him before he even realizes I’m coming. He thinks it’s a kiss—fucking pervert. But I slam my forehead into his nose so hardIsee stars. He reels, crashing into the edge of the desk, and I keep swinging.
My fists are a blur.
“No. One. Touches. My. Mates!” I scream, every word a punch, my voice raw and fierce.
Behind me, I hear the sharp crash of a vase smashing against the wall, glass scattering like broken promises. The scuffle grows louder. Grunts, the scrape of shoes on carpet, a sharp cry from someone grappling with a henchman.
My vision tunnels. I hit harder, fists fueled by pure rage and adrenaline, every nerve screaming. Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my middle, pulling me back from an unconscious Glenn with unyielding force. I struggle, wild and desperate, but then I catch Declan’s scent—earthy, calm, like a forest after rain—and I collapse into the embrace.
My knuckles sting. My head throbs. But it’s okay, because he’s here. He’s got me. My alpha.
“Omega,” he says with a note of pride. Reverence. “My omega.”
A guard slumps against the wall nearby, a dark stain of blood spreading across his forehead. The room hangs heavy with the aftermath of chaos as the rest of my pack closes in around me. Emily steps forward, cupping my face gently like I’m something precious, steadying me in the storm.
“I’m sorry,” I say, voice cracking. “I should’ve listened. I should’ve stayed back. Instead, I put you in danger.”
“No.” She’s crying, but she’s smiling. “You were right. They needed us.Weneeded this. And you—yousavedthem.”
“You were perfect.” Declan brushes a kiss over my temple.
Lucas hovers behind him. “Hate to break this up, but uh… we should go. Now.”
“He’s right,” Knox says, kissing my bloody knuckles.
Declan moves to the desk, doing something on Glenn’s computer before scooping me into his arms like I weigh nothing and hurrying out of the room. Knox guides him, cradling his left arm as he leads us down the back stairs. We slip into the kitchen, drawing a few confused stares from catering staff who wisely decide to mind their own business.
Outside, the night air hits like a slap. There’s a patrol nearby, but we sneak past them, sticking to shadows until we reach Emily’s car. We pile in—awkward, breathless, alive.
I lie across Knox’s lap in the back seat, Emily’s fingers threaded with mine, and start to drift, exhaustion claiming me all at once.
The last thing I feel is Knox brushing his lips over my temple and whispering,
“Rest easy, love. We’re safe. I’ve got you.”
59
KNOX
Declan doesn’t ask to drive. He just takes the keys from Emily. No one protests. There’s something steadying about the way he moves, all coiled control and quiet purpose. He’s taking care of us the only way he knows how: by taking charge.
He pulls out of Glenn’s neighborhood, jaw locked, eyes sharp on the road. With one hand on the wheel, he taps his phone, then puts the call on speaker.
“Tell me you got it, Curtis?” Declan asks, no nonsense, barely masking everything boiling underneath.
“We got more than enough to put this guy away for life.” His boss, Curtis, sounds like he’s smiling. “He was cocky and kept all his records right on his desktop. Fucking asshole.”
“Thank God.” Declan slumps, his grip on the wheel relaxing a little. Lucas looks back at me from the passenger seat, and Emily gives my arm a little squeeze before brushing a piece of hair out of Ava’s face.
“Are you still in there?” Curtis asks.
