Page 110 of Knot So Fast
"I enjoy the compliments," I say dryly, "but if you're talking about the leak, it wasn't from our end at all. Have no clue who took that picture of Lucius, and he's acting like he doesn't give a shit."
There's a rustling sound, and then I hear her—my mother's voice in the background, her thick Russian accent turning the English words into something musical and terrifying in equal measure.
"???????, ?? ???? ?????!" she says, before switching to English for my father's benefit. "Of course he gives a fucking shit. Is he going to run away to Dubai to fuck party girls or whatever you boys do when you're horny for pussy bullshit?"
I groan, pressing my free hand to my eyes. "Hi, Mother."
"??????, ???????," she says, her voice warming immediately. "Hello, darling. Glad to see you enjoying your newfound romance in the heart of Monaco."
The words are delivered with just enough sarcasm to make me wonder how much she already knows, but there's genuine warmth underneath that makes my smirk transform into a real smile. My mother has always been a force of nature—a Russian hurricane who married my Croatian father and somehow created a family that's equal parts chaos and love.
"Now," my father's voice returns, apparently having wrestled the phone back, "does she remember you?"
The question hits harder than expected, and I find myself sighing as I turn to look out the window at the city below. "Not yet. Things kind of just... happened."
"Happened?" His tone suggests he finds this explanation lacking.
So I tell him. About the incident with her almost crashing into me on the mountain road, about the night at the old place that was supposed to be our home. About not expecting her to join the competition mysteriously, stealing a car and announcing herself to the world with all the subtlety of a nuclear explosion.
"Everything kind of led to this," I finish, knowing how inadequate that sounds.
There's a pause, and then my father's voice comes through softer than before. "Must be fate then."
"Maybe," I sigh, running my free hand through my hair. "I'm a tad worried though. Things are going to get messy if Lucius is involved and he doesn't want to commit."
My mother's laughter erupts in the background, bright and knowing. "?????????! ?? ?????? ??? ???-????! ??? ????????!"Alexander! You owe me a spa day! All inclusive!
I hear my father groan. "Woman's intuition," he mutters, clearly having lost some bet about how this situation would play out.
"You should have known you'd lose the bet when it comes to Lucius," I point out, unable to resist the dig.
"Someone's got to be on that kid's side," my father says with exaggerated patience, "or else he'll be a loner on a cliff with no one to tell him to think before he jumps."
The image is so accurate it's painful. Lucius has always been the one teetering on edges, seeing how far he can push before gravity takes over. And we've all been there, in our own ways, trying to pull him back or at least cushion the fall.
"We got into a bit of an argument," I admit.
"Commitment with your precious little Omega?"
"Yup." The word comes out heavier than intended, and I find myself adding quietly, "I can't afford to fuck this up a second time, Dad."
The admission hangs between us, years of weight in those words. The memory of Auren's accident, of almost losing her, of making the choice to step back—it all crashes over me in a wave that threatens to pull me under.
"I love her," I continue, my voice rough with emotion. "Love her so fucking much, and now I finally have a chance to get her to fall for me all over again. With my pack. It's the miracle we prayed for, but Lucius without commitment will fuck it up a second time."
I lean heavily against the counter, the marble cool under my palms. "He got a year with her. To be a plaything in and out of her life. She deserves better than that, and we're not going to play with her at all."
"He's still young and stupid," my father agrees, though there's sympathy in his voice for both his sons.
I can't help but mock him slightly. "Dad, we're the same age."
"???," my mother's voice cuts in, having apparently commandeered the phone again. "You are same age in years, but not in soul. You, ??? ??????? ?achlan, you have old soul. You know pain of loss, of almost losing everything. Lucius, he is still child who thinks world owes him something."
My father takes the phone back, his voice thoughtful. "You know how it feels to watch the world crumble in your arms, my son. Lucius sadly doesn't yet. Those types of lessons will either break or change you. Sadly, you experienced both, but now you know the risks in this gamble called life."
The truth of it sits heavy in my chest. I remember holding Auren's unconscious body, blood mixing with rain, her heartbeat so faint I thought I'd imagined it. I remember the months of recovery, watching her struggle to remember, making the impossible choice to step away because her parents demanded it.
Lucius doesn't have those memories. He has the aftermath—a year of on-and-off toxicity with a woman who couldn't remember why she should stay away from him.
