Page 53 of Knot Shattered
When the door opens again, we could hear a faint strangled scream.
Fallon leaned her head back against the bars and sighed happily. “God, I love it when they panic.”
“Do you think we should be nicer?” Violet asked, smirking faintly.
I stretched my legs out, mimicking Fallon. “Why? This is the most fun we’ve had in months.”
Riven whistled low, shaking her head in amusement. “You three are feral.”
“We prefer ‘proactive,’” Fallon replied primly.
“We prefer alive,” Violet added.
I closed my eyes and let the grin spread slow and certain across my face. “And we’re very good at staying that way.”
We’d just settled into another round of speculative murder-bets when the door slammed open again—this time with none of the measured poise from before.
A guard burst into the room, eyes wide and sweating through his shirt like he’d just sprinted through hell. Screams and shots could be heard from beyond the door louder this time. He was younger than the others, Beta by scent, and looked like this was his first real fuck-up on the job. Poor guy.
Not that we felt bad for him.
“You!” he barked, pointing directly at us, his voice cracking under the weight of too many nerves and not enough common sense. “Get away from the bars. Now!”
Fallon just blinked. Violet tilted her head. I didn’t move at all.
“I said move!” he snapped again, stepping too close—his boot scuffing against the edge of the cage.
Big mistake.
Before anyone else could react, I surged forward, my hand shooting through the bars to grab a fistful of his shirt and yank him forward with all the adrenaline-laced strength I had.
He hit the bars with a choked yelp, face slamming against the cold metal, and right as he reeled back in panic, Violet stepped forward from the shadows, quiet as a ghost.
Click.
The tiniest knife I’d ever seen flicked out from somewhere under her sleeve, god only knew how long she’d had it or where she’d hidden it, and with terrifying precision, she jammed it straight into the socket of his right eye.
The scream that tore out of him was primal, echoing off the concrete like a death knell. He dropped like a sack of bricks, crumpling against the bars with blood pouring down his cheek.
I lowered him gently, panting, my fingers still curled in his shirt as the tremble hit my arms too late. “Violet…”
“What?” she said innocently, wiping the blade clean on his pant leg. “First blood.”
Fallon was already on her knees beside the body, patting him down like it was just another Tuesday. “Gods, this guy haslike fifty keys on him,” she muttered, lifting a heavy ring the size of a bracelet. “Nothing’s ever easy, is it?”
Violet leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You’d be bored if it were.”
I was still staring at the body, then at Violet, then back at the knife. “Where the hell did you even have that?”
Violet’s smile was sugar and arsenic. “A lady never reveals her secrets.”
Riven’s voice drifted from across her cell, equal parts amused and horrified. “You guys scare me a little.”
“Good,” Fallon and I said in unison, then cackled a laugh. “Jinx!” we say at the same time, still laughing.
Violet hummed and returned to inspecting the knife like she might polish it again. “One down,” she said. “How many more do you think we can rack up before the boys arrive?”
“Depends,” I murmured, turning toward the door. “On how stupid the rest of them are.”
