Page 81 of Knot Your Karma
“I know that now.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I know the difference because of you three. You make me feel like wanting love makes me worth keeping, not high-maintenance.”
“Because it does,” Reed says simply. “Wanting love, wanting commitment, wanting someone to be proud of you—that’s what makes relationships worth having.”
We sit on the highway shoulder for another few minutes,hazard lights blinking, pack scents mixing in the small space until I feel grounded again. Safe again. Ready to face whatever comes next.
The Blake call changed something fundamental inside me. Not just standing up to him, but the realization of how much I’ve grown, how much stronger I am with pack support. How much my worth isn’t dependent on his approval or anyone else’s.
“Okay,” I say finally, straightening up and wiping the last tears from my cheeks. “I’m ready to continue to Boston now.”
“You sure?” Adrian asks, studying my face with careful attention.
“I’m sure. Blake’s had months to make me doubt myself. I’m done giving him that power.”
Adrian checks mirrors while Declan signals back onto the highway. We merge into traffic with new energy—not just heading toward Sterling’s confrontation, but carrying the strength of what just happened. The proof that I can stand up to manipulation, that my pack will support me through anything, that I know my own worth now.
“For the record,” Reed says as we settle back into driving rhythm, “watching you hang up on Blake was incredibly fucking brave.”
Adrian’s storm-gray eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and his sandalwood scent spikes with fierce approval. “Exactly what he deserved.”
“It’s true though,” Declan adds. “You didn’t just stand up to him—you stated your worth like it was a fact instead of an opinion.”
“It is a fact,” I say, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounds. “I’m worth more than performance spreadsheets and comparison shopping.”
“Much more,” Adrian agrees quietly.
Karma
The Harborview HistoricInn lives up to its name—our suite overlooks Boston Harbor through leaded glass windows, with maritime prints on the walls and furniture that speaks to centuries of New England craftsmanship. It’s beautiful, expensive, and exactly the kind of place that should make me feel out of place.
Instead, I feel like I belong here.
“This is incredible,” I say, running my fingers along the mahogany dresser while Adrian examines the window locks. “Maritime themed, excellent sight lines, and look—actual nautical charts from the 1800s! Though I’m probably getting way too excited about wall decorations, but they’re authenticated 1800s charts and that’s kind of amazing if you’re into that sort of thing, which I obviously am...”
“Sterling expects us to stay somewhere that projects competence,” Declan says, setting our bags down with careful precision. “This does the job.”
“This place is incredible,” Reed observes, loosening his tie as he settles into one of the wingback chairs. “Sterling definitely knows how to makean impression. Plus, Karma just gave Blake a masterclass inhow to handle your toxic ex.We should probably charge admission for that performance.”
The pride in his voice makes something warm bloom in my chest, but it’s different from the protective concern I’m used to. This feels like appreciation for my strength rather than worry about my vulnerability.
“I can’t believe I actually hung up on him,” I admit, curling into the other chair. “I’ve never hung up on anyone in my life. What if that was too harsh? What if I should have—no, actually, you know what? I’m not apologizing for standing up for myself.”
“First time for everything,” Adrian says, finishing his security check before apparently deciding our accommodations are adequate. “Good result.”
“Blake got exactly what he deserved,” Declan states with satisfaction. “Question is—can you bring that backbone to Sterling tomorrow?”
The reminder of why we’re here settles over the room like weight. Tomorrow night. Sterling’s private viewing. Whatever test he has planned for my expertise and our pack dynamics.
“I’ve been thinking about that, and probably overthinking it, which is what I do, but hear me out,” I say. “Sterling called this a ‘private viewing’ and specifically requested my maritime expertise. But he also mentioned several pieces he wants my opinion on, which feels like a test disguised as a consultation.”
“Ah, the classic ‘let’s see if you’re actually competent or just confident’ maneuver,” Reed says with diplomatic insight. “I’ve seen that in diplomatic circles. Usually right before someone tries to make you look like an amateur.”
“Control the workspace, control the project,” Adrian adds grimly. “Standard intimidation.”
“Except he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with,” I pointout, confidence building as I think through the challenge. “I’ve been authenticating maritime pieces since I was sixteen. I can spot a reproduction sextant from across a room and identify brass polish that’s trying to age new fittings. Though what if his pieces are really sophisticated fakes? What if I miss something obvious and embarrass all of us?”
“Solid foundation,” Adrian says simply. “You know your craft.”
“Plus,” Reed adds with diplomatic satisfaction, “Sterling thinks he’s dealing with desperate family members who’ll mortgage their firstborn for a compass. He doesn’t know he’s actually negotiating with someone who could expose his entire questionable authentication network if things go sideways. It’s like bringing a maritime expert to a forgery fight.”
