Page 60 of Knot Your Karma
“Okay, so this is going to sound really bad, and you’re probably going to hate me, but I can’t keep lying to you, especially not when you’re about to see me at my most vulnerable and pathetic, so here goes nothing—” The words pour out in a rush, panic making me talk faster than my brain can process. “The compass, Blake’s compass that you’re looking for? I know where it is because—because I’m the one who took it. I stole it. Three months ago I just—I was so angry and hurt and I wanted him to lose something precious like he made me lose everything that mattered to me, and I know that makes me a terrible person but?—”
The silence that follows feels like the world holding its breath. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the anger, the disappointment, the inevitable moment when they realize what kind of person they’ve gotten involved with.
Instead, Declan says quietly, “You stole it.”
I force my eyes open, expecting disgust. Instead, his expression looks almost... relieved? Like I just confirmed what he already suspected rather than delivered devastating news.
“When I found out about the other women, when I realized he’d been lying to me about everything and treating me like some sort of romantic placeholder while he shopped for upgrades.” The words pour out faster now, the dam finally broken. “I was packing my things from his place and I saw itsitting on his nightstand. I was just—I was so destroyed, like completely emotionally obliterated, and I wanted him to feel even a tiny bit of what he’d done to me.”
I take a shaking breath, the confession tearing itself from my throat like broken glass.
“So I took it. Sold it to Sage Morrison for twelve hundred dollars and didn’t care where it went as long as Blake never got it back.”
Tears burn behind my eyes, spilling over as guilt and fear and approaching heat crash through me in waves that make my whole body shake. My voice cracks as the full weight of my deception hits me.
“I’ve been lying to you every single day since you walked into my shop. Helping you look for something I’m the reason you lost, pretending I don’t know anything when I know everything, being the worst kind of person who takes your trust and your care and your alpha protection while actively deceiving you about the most important thing?—”
“Karma.” Declan’s voice cuts through my spiral, and when I look up through tears, his expression is gentle instead of angry. “We know.”
“You—what? You know? You’ve known this whole time and you still—but that means you let me torture myself with guilt while you already knew, which is either really kind or mildly sadistic, and I can’t tell which?—”
“We figured it out,” Reed says. “Timeline, dealer knowledge, your reaction every time Blake’s name came up. Also, the way you steered us away from certain people at that auction? That wasn’t just expertise, that was personal experience.”
My omega hindbrain reels, trying to process this impossible gift.
They knew. They’ve known, and they stayed.
They knew and they still look at me like I matter.
“Blake’s ex-girlfriend who got too attached,” Adrian addsquietly, darkness threading through his voice. “Who wanted unreasonable things like honesty and commitment. Who had an emotional breakdown when she discovered his performance metrics spreadsheet.”
“Performance metrics,” I repeat faintly, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. “He actually called it that. Like I was a product he was reviewing for potential purchase.”
“He rated you,” Declan’s voice goes flat, dangerous. “He kept fucking spreadsheets rating omegas like cars he was test-driving. And then he called you clingy for wanting basic relationship honesty.”
My shoulders drop so suddenly my neck cracks. The breath I release shakes like I’ve been underwater, and when I try to sit up straighter, my muscles feel liquid, boneless, like I’ve been carrying concrete blocks and someone finally lifted them away.
They know. They know everything—about Blake, about the compass, about what kind of person I really am—and they’re still here. Still looking at me like I’m worth their time.
“You knew and you still—but why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let me keep lying and feeling terrible about it?”
“Because trust can’t be demanded,” Reed says. “It has to be offered freely. You needed to feel safe enough to give it to us, not cornered into confessing.”
“Also,” Adrian adds with quiet steel, “we wanted to hear your side. Blake’s version of events is usually fifty percent bullshit and a hundred percent self-serving. We needed the truth from someone who actually lived it.”
“And you chose me anyway?” My voice comes out small, disbelieving, throat tight with emotion I can’t name. “Even knowing what I did? Even knowing I’m the kind of person who steals family heirlooms out of spite?”
“We chose you before we knew about the compass,” Declan corrects. “Before this, before pre-heat, before any ofthe complicated stuff. We chose you over Blake and his fucking family traditions weeks ago.”
They chose me.
Not despite what I did, but before they even knew about it. They chose me when I was just the lying antique dealer who fell off a ladder, who organized her office like her life depended on it, who talked to antiques like they were people.
“Blake doesn’t deserve to get his precious heirloom back,” Adrian says. “Not after what he put you through. Making you believe you were heading toward a bonding ceremony while he treated relationships like comparison shopping?”
“You had every right to take it from him,” Reed adds. “Honestly? You showed remarkable restraint. I would have taken his entire collection and maybe set his car on fire for good measure.”
“You would not,” I say, but I’m almost smiling through the tears now.
