Page 107 of Hot Knot Summer
“You got it,” Atlas states, rising slightly from his chair as I stand—another gesture of old-fashioned courtesy that never fails to charm me.
I make my way across the restaurant, weaving between tables filled with couples and families enjoying their evening out. The atmosphere is relaxed and convivial, the kind of place where everyone seems to be having a wonderful time.
I’m almost to the restroom when I see them.
Chad and Megan, sitting at a corner table, her hand covering his across the white tablecloth, has my stomach lurching with disgust. With anger.
What the fuck!
I freeze mid-step. Of course. Of fucking course, he lied when he called me during my heat, claiming things with Megan weren’t what I thought. But here he is, in my town, with her, looking perfectly content with his betrayal.
The sight of them together ignites a rage in me that I haven’t felt since that day I walked in on them together. How dare he come here?
My sharp intake of breath must have been audiblebecause Chad’s head turns in my direction. Our eyes meet across the restaurant, and I watch his expression shift from surprise to something far darker—predatory.
He looks exactly the same. Too polished. Too perfect. The light brown hair with those ridiculous, expensive highlights is still styled as if he stepped out of a men’s grooming ad. Designer everything, right down to the Italian leather shoes and that oversized watch he never shuts up about.
He’s on his feet immediately, abandoning Megan without a word as he strides toward me with that confident swagger that used to make my heart race. Now, it just turns my stomach.
Panic floods my system, fight-or-flight instincts screaming at me to run. I whirl around and rush back toward our table, my heart hammering in my throat and my hands shaking with adrenaline.
Atlas is out of his chair before I even reach the table, his protective instincts obviously triggered by whatever he’s reading in my body language.
“Emma?” he says, his voice sharp with concern. “What’s wrong?”
I can’t speak, can’t find the words to explain. I glance back over my shoulder and see Chad approaching, his chest puffed out with false bravado, that familiar sneer on his face that I used to mistake for confidence.
“Emma!” he calls, loud enough that otherdiners begin to turn and stare. “What the fuck are you doing here with them?”
I try to answer, try to tell him exactly where he can shove his questions, but my voice has vanished. All the old emotions come flooding back, the humiliation, the betrayal, the crushing sense of not being enough. I hate him for still having this power over me, hate myself for letting him affect me this way.
Finally finding my voice, I say, “Last time I spoke with you, I told you to fuck off, Chad.”
River and Levi rise from their chairs with predatory grace, flanking Atlas as he steps slightly in front of me. The guys seem to catch on immediately.
“Oh, this is Chad,” Atlas states, his voice deceptively calm as he turns to face my ex. “How... interesting.”
For the first time since approaching our table, Chad’s eyes widen, taking in the three Alphas and perhaps is finally registering that he might be in over his head. Three large, clearly fit men have turned their attention to him, and none of them look particularly friendly.
“I’ll see you soon, Emma,” Chad snarls, but I can hear the uncertainty creeping into his voice.
Atlas moves faster than I expect, his hand shooting out to grip Chad’s arm with enough force to make him wince.
“Actually,” Atlas says, his tone conversational despite the steel in his eyes. “You’re going to join us for a moment.”
In the same instant, Levi swoops me by my arm. “Come,” he murmurs in my ear. “Let’s give them some privacy to talk.”
He guides me to an empty table nearby, far enough that we won’t be in the immediate blast zone but close enough that I can still see what’s happening. Other diners are staring now, sensing drama. Shit!
“I don’t want to cause trouble,” I whisper to Levi, guilt and anxiety warring in my chest.
“You’re not causing anything,” he assures me, his hand warm and steady in mine. “This is his doing, not yours.”
Back at our table, Atlas shoves Chad into my abandoned chair. River takes the seat across from him, leaning back with deceptive casualness while Atlas looms over Chad’s shoulder. To anyone watching, it might look like a friendly conversation, but I can see the tension in their bodies, the primal stillness that speaks of barely leashed aggression.
Chad glances between Atlas and River like a cornered animal, finally seeming to understand that he’s made a serious miscalculation.
“She’s a dumb Omega,” he states, his voice carrying clearly across go us. “You’re idiots if you think she’ll be anything good for you. But I accepted her, and she’s mine, so you better fuck off.”
