Page 19 of Knot Shattered
Micha shoved him off casually without even glancing up from his plate. “You’re a ferret at best, Haze.”
“A majestic ferret,” Haze corrected, completely unbothered.
Odette dissolved into laughter again, the sound bubbling bright and soft through the booth, making heads turn from other tables without her even noticing.
I found myself smiling before I realized it, a slow, rare stretch of warmth pulling at my mouth. I leaned forward slightly, resting my forearms on the table. “What about you, Odette?” I asked, my voice low but steady, cutting through the teasing hum around us. “If you could go anywhere in the world, anywhere at all, where would you go?”
She blinked at me, caught off guard for half a second by the seriousness of the question amid the jokes. Then she smiled, smaller, a little more thoughtful, and leaned in just a little closer, like she trusted me with the answer.
“Anywhere with a beach,” she said softly. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere with soft sand and no clocks. No expectations.” Her voice dropped even quieter, more vulnerable. “Somewhere I could just… exist.”
The words settled between us, heavier than the easy teasing that had filled the booth moments before, but not unwelcome. Micha reached over quietly and touched her hand, just a brush of fingertips against her wrist, grounding her. Salem gave her a small, knowing smile. I stored it away inside my chest, somewhere with soft sand and no clocks, and made a silent vow.
Someday, after all of this is over, I’ll take her there wherever she wanted to go, wherever she could breathe free.
Haze, naturally, had to ruin the moment by throwing a sugar packet at Salem’s head. “Well, if we’re all living our best lives, I’m opening a beach bar called ‘Bad Decisions’ and Salem’s going to run security because he’s scary when he’s pissed.”
Salem caught the sugar packet without even blinking and threw it straight back, pegging Haze squarely in the forehead.
Odette laughed again, and I let the sound fill me up, smoothing out the sharp edges inside my chest.
Chapter Six
Odette
August 27th
2:49 P.M
My abs hurt from laughing so hard, an ache I welcomed like an old friend I hadn’t seen in far too long. I leaned back slightly in the booth, letting the easy noise of the diner buzz around me, my smile lingering even after the jokes died down. Across the room, over Ravik’s broad shoulder, I caught sight of Henry sitting at the counter, sipping a cup of black coffee and watching us with a small, satisfied smile.
The sight hit me hard. This man, who had been a constant through every storm, was still there, still keeping watch, even now, when I was surrounded by alphas who were quickly starting to feel like gravity itself. My chest tightened with gratitude so sharp it almost made me dizzy. I’m so lucky, I thought, swallowing thickly around the lump that rose in my throat. Lucky to have him after everything I went through.
Trying to shake off the sudden swirl of emotions, I popped a fry into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully as I scanned the table, thinking about a new question to ask.
The banter was light, the energy infectious, but even under the laughter and teasing, I could see more now.
Layers.
Truths they weren’t hiding but also weren’t pushing at me, letting me find them in my own time.
Micha sat relaxed, an easy grin on his face as he listened to Haze argue dramatically with Salem. He was the anchor, the leader without needing to demand it. Serious when it mattered, but easy to lean into in calmer moments. Solid. Steady. Safe.
Ravik, sitting across from me, was like a fortress. Quiet, observant, every move deliberate. He didn’t say much, but when he did, you listened. The strength in their pack wasn’t just in his fists or his sheer size. It was in the way he saw everything. The way he waited. Ready to step between us and anything that even thought about being a threat.
Salem, calm and composed, leaned back with his arms crossed loosely over his chest, his gray eyes half-lidded as he watched the chaos unfold with quiet amusement. He gave off this easygoing vibe, like nothing could rattle him. But there was something in his eyes, a flash of something wounded, something familiar, that made my heart ache. I recognized that look. It lived in my mirror most days.
And then there was Haze.
Oh, Haze.
He was bouncing slightly in his seat, face animated, hands flying everywhere as he tried to defend his ridiculous answer to the latest question (“Yes, I could survive in the wild by befriending raccoons, thank you very much!”).
He was chaotic energy wrapped up in a crooked smile and golden laughter.
But behind the gleam of humor and the silly bravado, I saw the sharp flash of something a little darker.
Something feral.
