Page 95 of Knot Going Down
And for now, that silence will have to be enough.
47
KNOX
Ava’s heat breaks a few hours before we reach Bermuda. The first and only port this cruise will hit before it ends in Fort Lauderdale.
And now, I’ve got a decision to make.
Drunk on sex hormones, it was easy to think this could work, but now, who fucking knows if Declan will ever let me be a part of this. Can I really stick around and watch this pack form without me?
If I’m gonna run, this is the time. This is my window. I could slip off the ship, find a burner phone, and call Glenn. He’d have me on a one-way flight out of here before the others even realize I’m gone and not just wandering around the duty-free shop.
Clean exit. Minimal collateral. I could disappear.
But it would mean leaving Emily. Leaving Ava. Leaving Lucas.
And it would prove Declan right about me.
He thinks I’m a flight risk. That I’ll bail.
And maybe I would’ve. A few days ago, I would’ve sprinted off this boat without a second thought. But now? Now, I sit herewith a storm under my ribs, staring at the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows, knowing I’ve already made my choice.
Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.
“Who else is starving?” Emily’s voice cuts through the quiet as she drops onto the couch beside me, loose-limbed and glowing from her post-shower clean-up. Her short hair is still damp at the ends, and her skin’s scrubbed pink and fresh—no longer layered in heat-slick and alpha scent. No longer layered inmyscent.
The possessive part of me snarls. I tamp it down.
“Starved,” I say, grabbing her by the waist and tugging her into my lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Because it is.
She comes willingly, smiling as she curls against my chest, and I feel the subtle exhale of her trust in me. Like she’s never doubted I’d catch her.
That’s what gets me.
Not the sex. Not even the bond wealmostshare. It’s this quiet, unthinking ease she offers me. Like I belong here.
I hold her tighter than I probably need to, my palm spread across the flat of her stomach. The same stomach I’ve kissed. Bitten. Laughed against.
I should feel full after the last few days. Emotionally wrecked. Sexually drained. Instead, I feel… tethered.
“I missed this,” she says softly, pressing her face into my neck.
“What, sitting on my lap?”
“No.” She laughs, then nods. “Okay, yes. But also the normal stuff. Talking. Being together without someone begging to be knotted every five minutes and coming through screams.”
“Speak for yourself.” I squeeze her hip. “Youalsobegged.”
She shrugs, unrepentant. “I was polite about it.”
And just like that, I’m smiling. Genuinely. So wide my cheeks hurt
She looks up at me with those wide, open eyes, so trusting, soEmily. If I run, I’ll never forgive myself.
Because this right here? This feels like home.
I pull her close, rubbing along her neck and marking my girl in my scent.
