Page 78 of Knotted By the Demon

I hated being stuck in the basement. I wanted to be out there, fighting beside my alpha. But I also wanted Greek safe. So, here was where I needed to be. Greek paced back and forth, his silver-blond hair catching the faint light. His hands trembled, his fingers twitching at his sides, but his face was a pale mask of fear and guilt.

My heart was a drumbeat of worry. Demon’s pain had slammed through our bond moments ago—a visceral punch of agony that sent Greek stumbling into my arms. Then, just as suddenly, it vanished. He’d shut us out.

“Why would he do that?” Greek whispered, his voice raw, eyes darting to the basement door as if expecting Demon to burst through it any second. “Why would he—”

“To protect us,” I cut in, my voice sharp, though not at him. The words burned on my tongue, bitter and acidic. “Some alphas close the bond to keep their mates from feeling their pain.”

Greek turned his wide eyes to me, desperation carving lines into his delicate features. “But what if—what if he—”

“Stop,” I snapped, harsher than I intended. His breath hitched, and I softened my tone. “He’s coming back, Greek. He swore it.”

I wanted to believe my own words, but my gut twisted. I hated the waiting, the helplessness, the hollow silence that felt like a countdown. My fingers drummed against my thigh as I watched Greek pace, the movement fueling my own restlessness. Demon was out there alone. Bleeding. Fighting. And we were hiding.

I stood abruptly, my boots scraping against the floor. “We’re going up.”

Greek stopped mid-step, turning to me with wide, tear-glazed eyes. “But he told us to stay—”

“I don’t give a damn,” I snapped, the words sparking like flint on steel. “I’m not sitting down here wringing my hands while he fights for us.”

Damn it, Demon, why did you close the bond?

Greek hesitated, his lip trembling, but he nodded, his hand slipping into mine as we moved toward the basement stairs.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” I whispered as we walked hand in hand.

“I’m sorry for not being strong enough.”

“You’re strong. You just need to believe in yourself,” I told him.

The moment we reached the top, I felt it. A presence that didn’t belong. The cabin smelled wrong. A sickly sourness laced with venom and malice.

“She’s here,” Greek whispered, voice trembling.

Natalie!My instincts roared, my hackles rising as I pushed Greek behind me. Damn it. In my haste, I’d left my gun. What the fuck was wrong with me? And then I saw her. The woman who’d tormented my omega for years. That raggedy bitch! Natalie.

She stood in the middle of the living room, her posture predatory, her lips curled into a mocking smirk. Her dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders, but her eyes, those eyes were cold and calculating, glinting with satisfaction as they landed on Greek.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” she drawled, her voice syrupy sweet with malice. “Did you really think you could keep him from us forever?”

I stepped forward, keeping Greek behind me. My pulse thundered in my ears, rage heating my blood. “You’re not getting near him,” I said, my voice low, lethal.

Natalie laughed, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re nothing but a beta playing house with someone else’s property. Do you even know what you’re protecting?”

I knew exactly who and what I was. If she wanted me to falter, she’d have to do better than that.

“What I know,” I said, stepping closer. “Is that I’ll rip your throat out before I let you touch him.”

Her smirk wavered, her eyes narrowing. “You really think you can take me?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. My body answered for me. The scent hit me first—sharp, dark, and wild. It poured from my skin, thicker and heavier than ever before.Alpha mode.

She sniffed the air, her brow furrowing. “What... are you?”

“I’m the person who’s going to kill you for hurting my omega,” I snarled, my voice a growl that didn’t feel entirely human.

Natalie’s smirk vanished, her body tensing as she lunged at me. The world exploded into chaos. She was fast, her nails slashing through the air, but I was faster. I ducked under her swing, driving my shoulder into her stomach and sending hersprawling against the couch. She recovered quickly, her face twisted in rage as she launched herself at me again.

Our bodies collided, a mess of flying fists. Her nails raked across my arm, burning as blood welled from the shallow gashes. I didn’t care.Pain was nothing but fuel. That was what my cousin Lukas had taught me when we sparred.

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