Page 28 of Knot Shattered
My sleep shorts stayed on, soft and high-waisted, but I needed something on top. I plucked one of Haze’s T-shirts from the corner chair—the one he left in my room “just in case” I ever needed something delightfully oversized and questionably clean.
It slipped over my head easily, swallowing me whole. The hem hit just below the curve of my thighs, my shorts completely hidden beneath the fabric. I lift the collar up to my nose and breathe in his mint, cedar, and frosted pine scent. It reminds me of Christmas. Bold white letters stretched across the front of the black shirt:“I have two moods: Slightly feral or emotionally unstable. Choose wisely.”
I do my morning routine, washing my face and brushing my teeth. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, checked the mirror, snorted, and decided it was perfect.
When I stepped out into the hallway, I found Salem still waiting for me, arms crossed, a barely concealed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked me up and down.
“I see you’ve stolen from the menace,” he said, pushing off the wall as I joined him.
“He left it in my space,” I replied innocently. “That’s practically a formal offering.”
His quiet chuckle followed us as we made our way through the house, familiar now in a way that still caught me off guard sometimes. The floors were warm, natural wood, rich with deep knots and soft grains. The walls were a mix of muted grays and earthy textures, lit by morning sunlight spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows. The furniture was all sharp lines and deep comfort leather, dark woods, and throw pillows that definitely didn’t match but somehow made sense together.
It felt… like them.
Their scents were strong throughout the house. All of them layered like a second skin in this space. It was chaotic and delicious. Dangerous and warm. Just like them.
As I stepped into the kitchen, the conversation immediately stopped.
Three sets of eyes locked on me like I’d just sauntered in wearing lingerie and holding a grenade.
Which, to be fair, I could probably pull off.
Micha stood by the stove, spatula in hand, brow arched ever so slightly as he took in the shirt, the lack of visible pants, and my bare legs.
“Good morning sunshine,” he said smoothly, though I didn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze.
Ravik was at the table, a coffee mug halfway to his mouth. He didn’t blink, didn’t speak, just stared. Hard. His jaw flexed once before he carefully set the mug down like it had personally offended him. I notice his hand disappear as he adjusts himself. I’m both proud and trying not to laugh.
Salem gave me a nudge forward with his shoulder. “Careful. You might cause a riot.”
“I’m dressed,” I defended, crossing my arms—not that it helped. It just made the shirt ride up slightly and made things worse.
“Oh, we know,” Haze said, already leaning against the counter like he’d been waiting for the show. “But now I’m gonna need that shirt back. I mean, look at you. You’re stealing my entire aesthetic.”
I tilted my head and gave him a slow grin. “Jealous that I wear it better?”
Haze let out a wounded groan, dramatically slapping a hand over his chest. “She stabs! She wounds!”
Ravik’s voice cut in, low and rough. “Don’t encourage him.”
“You’re not helping either,” Micha muttered, turning back to the stove, though I didn’t miss the faint smirk tugging at his mouth.
Salem slid into a seat at the island, motioning for me to come closer. “Come eat before they combust. And please—stay standing for a bit longer. I’m enjoying the view.”
I raised an eyebrow, cheeks flushing even as I strutted over and leaned on the counter just to mess with them. “You all are ridiculous.”
“Yes,” Micha said dryly, plating eggs onto a dish with practiced ease. “But you like us that way.”
“I do,” I admitted, accepting the plate and settling between Salem and Haze. “God help me, I really do.”
Haze leaned in close, whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear, “If I die, I want it to be by her thighs. Death by Omega is how I go.”
Ravik let out a long-suffering sigh.
Salem toasted me with his coffee. “To dangerous mornings and even more dangerous omegas.”
I laughed as I took my first bite, completely and shamelessly adored.
