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To take… to take my Alphas away?

Can’t have it.

Can’t have it at all.

KNOX

My whole body ached with each breath, and I was pretty sure bruises were blooming on every inch of my being.

I wasn’t ready to get up, and neither, it seemed, was Rogue.

Fuck.

Fuck.

My mind was clearing now; the initial rage burned out of my system with adrenaline.

But then I heard the faintest padding of soft footsteps and froze.

She had been asleep, but… well, we hadn’t exactly been quiet.

I looked up, then caught myself, an unexpected terror leaching into my bones. My breath was tight all of a sudden, and not from the fight.

I forced myself into a sitting position, a few loose strands of cold pasta tumbling around me.

There she was.

Thistle.

She wore an oversized top that she clutched in white-knuckled fists. Bare legs and pale skin. Her raven hair was down, tumbling to her waist, and her violet eyes were wide with uncertainty as she took another step toward me.

God.

I wasn’t ready for the way it felt, looking at her. After waking in terror, after the adrenaline and the fight—to a free fall like this.

None of that left me ready for something without any spikes, or claws, or sharp edges.

A rush of… I don’t know.

I just… I loved her.

And I’d grown years worth of armour to protect me from cruelty, from hatred. Sothis? It was like kryptonite, seeping through a million cracks, closing up my throat.

I shut my eyes for a moment, choked by it.

A different panic clung to me.

Guilt, almost as cruel and dark as the bond I was trying to keep locked down.

There was a spike in her frosted moonflower scent, and my eyes snapped open.

She’d come to a halt, and there was fear etched across her features as she stared at me. For a moment, she glanced to the right—to the other side of the fallen shelf—where Rogue was still lying.

He hadn’t said anything, which was good. I didn’t want to hear his stupid fucking voice.

And I didn’t want him ruining this moment, either.

“Daddy?” she whispered, a little crack in her rough voice.