Page 61 of Knot Your Karma
“You’re right, I would have done something much more subtle and completely untraceable that would have made him question his sanity for months,” Reed corrects cheerfully. “But the sentiment stands.”
The acceptance, the understanding, the way they’re looking at me like I’m still worth their attention despite everything—it breaks down the last of my defenses completely, walls crumbling like they were made of paper instead of three months of carefully constructed protection.
A sound tries to escape my throat—low, pleased, completely embarrassing. I press my lips together, but the vibration continues in my chest like a cat’s purr I can’t control.
“I was so scared you’d leave,” I whisper, curling deeper into Reed’s warmth while my eyes stay locked on Declan and Adrian, blood pounding so hard they can probably see it jumping in my throat. “When you found out the truth, when you realized what kind of person I really am—the kind wholies and steals and apparently purrs when she’s emotionally overwhelmed?—”
“The kind of person who protects herself when someone she trusted destroys her?” Reed’s voice carries gentle conviction. “The kind who fights back instead of just taking it? That’s not weakness, Karma. That’s survival.”
“Blake got off easy,” Declan adds, settling beside my nest with movements so careful I can see the restraint it takes. “One compass for months of emotional terrorism? That’s a bargain compared to what he deserved.”
“We’re not leaving,” Adrian promises, and when his storm-gray eyes meet mine, I see unshakeable resolve there. “Family doesn’t abandon family, especially when things get messy. We dig in, we figure it out, we stick.”
Family. The word settles in my chest like finding something I’ve been searching for my entire life without knowing it.
“My family,” I repeat, the words feeling foreign and perfect on my tongue, warmth spreading through my chest like liquid sunlight.
“If you want us to be,” Declan says, but there’s no uncertainty in his voice, just hope wrapped in confidence that makes heat flutter low in my belly. “If you’re ready for claiming and everything that comes with it.”
Everything that comes with it.
My mind can’t quite process what that means through the growing haze, but my body knows. The restless energy shifts again, becomes warmer, more focused. Not the frantic need to arrange and rearrange from this afternoon, but deep contentment at being surrounded by their combined scents—rain-soaked wood and ocean breeze and sandalwood layering together until it smells like safety made manifest.
Slick gathers between my thighs as my body recognizes safety and begins preparing for the vulnerability to come.
My heartbeat settles into steady determination as certaintycrystallizes in my bones. This is what I want. Not just romance, not just attraction, but belonging. Home.
“I’m ready,” I say, the words coming from somewhere deeper than conscious thought, my scent shifting to invitation that makes all three of them go very still with barely controlled want. “I choose you. All of you. Even though I’m probably going to be a disaster and you’ll have to deal with my trust issues and my tendency to organize things when I’m stressed and the fact that I talk to antique compass collections like they’re people and I apparently can’t lie to save my life even when I’m trying really hard to protect myself?—”
“Especially because of those things,” Reed interrupts with gentle humor, though I can feel his pulse jumping where I’m pressed against his chest. “Those aren’t flaws to fix, they’re you. And we want you, not some imaginary perfect version you think you should be.”
“Plus, talking to compass collections is probably good for business,” Adrian adds with what might be the ghost of a smile. “Shows proper respect for craftsmanship.”
“So what happens now with—” I start, because some practical part of my brain is still trying to function despite the growing haze.
“Now we make sure you’re comfortable and safe,” Reed says, though his scent carries barely controlled want that makes my skin flush with answering heat. “Everything else can wait until you can think about something other than how much you need us closer.”
“But what about Sterling Ashworth? The compass situation? All that auction drama that we still haven’t resolved?”
“Can wait,” Declan says firmly, and the protective authority in his voice makes my pulse stutter and every omega instinct sing with satisfaction. “Right now the only thing that matters is you. Blackwater can go fuck himself with his pretentious maritime collection.”
“And Blake?” I ask, though the haze is making it harder to focus on anything but the way they’re looking at me.
“Blake can go fuck himself in general,” Adrian says with quiet venom that makes my toes curl with satisfaction. “He lost the right to that compass the moment he decided to treat you like a recreational activity.”
Emotion swells in my chest so intense it makes my eyes sting with grateful tears.
“You really choose me over the family heirloom?” The question comes out smaller than intended, weighted with three months of guilt and disbelief.
“Every time,” Declan says immediately. “Blake doesn’t deserve that compass back. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve our help, doesn’t deserve anything except the consequences of his own shitty choices.”
“But your family traditions—five generations of Mitchell men?—”
“You’re our family now,” Reed interrupts, and his voice shakes slightly with the force of his conviction. “Chosen family over obligation. Always.”
“We need to get you home,” Adrian says quietly, his storm-gray eyes reading the escalation in my scent. “You’ll be more comfortable in your own space, and this—” he gestures at the shop around us “—isn’t private enough for what’s coming.”
The practical part of my brain knows he’s right. The shop has windows facing Main Street, thin walls, and Mrs. Henderson has a key for emergencies. But the omega part of my brain doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to leave this perfect nest I’ve built.
