Page 85 of Knot So Fast
I can't resist.
Even being dragged along by an Alpha who's probably planning several creative ways to punish me for this stunt, I can't pass up the opportunity for one last dramatic moment.
I turn back, flashing them my most devious smile—the one that usually precedes me doing something that'll give my parents heart attacks. The cameras go crazy again, shutters firing like automatic weapons.
"Auren Vale!" I declare, making sure my voice carries clearly. "Absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The silence that follows is beautiful.
Complete. Perfect. Like the moment between lightning and thunder, when the world holds its breath waiting for the inevitable chaos.
Then all hell breaks loose.
The explosion of noise is physical—reporters screaming questions, photographers fighting for position, commentators trying to process what they've just learned. I catch fragments as Lachlan continues pulling me away:
"—Vale? THE Vale family?—"
"—thought she was dead?—"
"—racing before the accident?—"
"—parents going to sue?—"
"—Wolfe's Omega all along?—"
But I don't need to care about any of that right now.
Not when I'm trying not to skip like a giddy schoolgirl, my hand still held firmly in Lachlan's grip. He's navigating us through the paddock with the efficiency of someone who's memorized every shortcut and hidden passage, clearly intent on getting us somewhere private before the full weight of what just happened crashes down.
I study the back of his head as we walk, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his racing suit stretches across his back with each determined stride. He's going to fuck me. That much is obvious from the pheromones he's pumping out, from the possessive way he hasn't let go of my hand, from the promises written in every line of his body.
He's going to fuck me everywhere and anywhere he can before we have to face the consequences of my grand reveal. Before my parents descend with their lawyers and their disappointment. Before the media circus really gets rolling. Before reality intrudes on this perfect bubble of adrenaline and victory and rediscovered connection.
I may not remember our past together, may not have access to the memories that clearly haunt him. But right now, in this moment, I don't need them. Because I can feel it—the chemistry, the pull, the rightness of being next to him.
The exhilaration of the race is still singing in my blood, mixing with the arousal from that public claiming, creating a cocktail of sensation that makes me feel more alive than I have since waking up in that hospital bed. This is what I've been missing. Not just the racing, but this—the complete package of speed and danger and passion that apparently defines who I am when I'm not being carefully managed and medicated into compliance.
Lachlan pulls me around another corner, and I recognize we're heading for the drivers' private area—a section of the paddock that's off-limits to media and most team personnel. Good. Perfect. Because I don't think I can wait much longer to get my hands on him properly, to celebrate this victory in the most primal way possible.
My Wolf won our race.
I came second in my comeback.
We've just announced our relationship to the world in the most dramatic way possible.
And now?
Now we're going to disappear for however long we can steal, and I'm going to let him show me exactly how proud he is of my performance. How frustrated he is with my recklessness. How much he's missed me, even if I can't remember missing him back.
The thought sends heat spiraling through me, and I pick up my pace to match his longer strides.
He glances back at me, and something in my expression makes his eyes darken further.
"Problem, Sugar?" he asks, but his voice suggests he knows exactly what kind of problem I'm having.
"Just admiring the view," I reply with false innocence. "And thinking about how this whole racing thing comes with some very interesting perks."
His laugh is dark and full of promise.
