Page 59 of Knot Shattered
My gaze flicked back to Malik, whose chest was rising and falling in rapid, terrified gasps. His pulse fluttered visibly at his throat, and the faint acrid stench of sweat and urine filled the small room.
I tilted my head slightly, regarding him with calm detachment. “Any last words, Malik?”
His eyes widened further, a wild plea filling them. “Please—please, I gave you everything you wanted. The list! You have it. There’s nothing left, I swear!”
I tucked the USB safely into my pocket, casually lifting my gaze back to his. “Oh, you misunderstand. You gave us the paperwork.” I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping dangerously low. “But you haven’t given us satisfaction.”
Kingston stepped forward slowly, a deadly promise in every carefully measured step. Dare’s grip tightened until Malik was choking again, his face turning an alarming shade of red. Panic clawed at Malik’s eyes, desperation pouring from him in waves as he realized there would be no escape. No forgiveness.
I watched, feeling nothing but quiet, cold certainty. This man, and all those like him, had broken something sacred. He’d stolen freedom, hope, and dignity. He deserved every ounce of terror he felt now—and more.
“Wait!” Malik wheezed, voice choked and desperate, clawing weakly at Dare’s grip. “Please don’t do this—”
I merely raised an eyebrow at him, calm and detached. “Begging suits you, Malik. But it won’t help. You should have thought about mercy when those omegas begged for theirs.”
His frantic pleading echoed off the bare walls, drowned quickly beneath Dare’s low growl and Kingston’s cold, measured breathing.
In the end, it wasn’t about vengeance. It was about justice and ensuring he would never harm anyone again.
Malik deserved far worse. But tonight, this would have to be enough.
Chapter Fifteen
Odette
October 30th
4:32 P.M
The sketchpad rested on my knees, a half-finished line arcing across the page as I paused, pencil hovering midair. The TV flickered in the background, some old action movie Micha had picked. He claimed it was a classic. Ravik had his feet propped on the coffee table, arms crossed, silently judging the film. Salem lay on the floor beside the couch with his arm thrown over his eyes, half-watching, half-napping. The house was quiet, easy. Safe.
It was a good day. One of the first, I could say, that without flinching.
I was starting to fill in the shading along the edge of the figure’s cheekbone when the front door opened.
“My sun,” Haze called, in a sing-song, hands behind his back. “I have a gift for you.”
That got everyone’s attention.
I sat up straighter, already smiling. “Oh yeah? What kind of gift?”
“You gotta stand up to receive it,” he said, eyes twinkling.
I set my sketchpad aside and padded over to him in my soft pajama shorts and one of Salem’s oversized sweaters that hung off one shoulder. “You’re not gonna bite me, right?”
“I mean… not unless you ask real nice,” he winked, then brought his hands forward.
A large mason jar filled with clear, fluorescent green liquid was in them. Floating inside were three unmistakable, very real hearts. I blinked. Once. Twice.
“Is this—”
“Yup!” Haze beamed like a kid who just aced a spelling test. “I found the bastards that hurt you—ripped their hearts out myself. Put ‘em in formaldehyde. Thought it was romantic.”
My hand flew up to cover my mouth. I wasn’t horrified. Not really. I wasn’t even shocked. I just froze. Something inside me twisted, then snapped into place. I let out a sharp laugh that quickly turned into a sob, and I launched myself at him, arms winding tight around his neck.
“Thank you,” I whispered, breath hitching as tears slid down my cheeks. “Gods, Haze… thank you.”
He hugged me back instantly, gently rocking me side to side. “Anything for you, my sun.”
