Page 1 of Knot Their Arrangement

PROLOGUE: THE HUNT BEGINS

~KAMARI~

Fuck…I’ve been caught.

The rain is unrelenting.

Heavy droplets slam against my skin, each one a stinging reminder that I'm not dreaming.

That this nightmare is my reality.

My once pristine Saree, a masterpiece of red and royal blue silk adorned with thousands of hand-sewn Swarovski crystals that shimmer even in the darkness, now clings to my trembling form like a second skin.

The intricate golden embroidery that my mother spent months selecting weighs heavy on my shoulders, drenched and muddied — a perfect metaphor for how I've sullied the family name — yet again.

I should have known better than to think I could outrun fate.

Or the men my father would send to drag me back.

My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, my back pressed against rough bark that bites through the delicate fabric.

The tree offers little shelter from the downpour, but I'm beyond caring about the state of my clothes.

Not when he's here.

Not when those haunting electric eyes are boring into mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak and my core clench with a need I desperately wish I could ignore.

The mask he wears is unlike anything I've ever seen.

Sleek, almost cyberpunk in design, with glowing X patterns where his eyes should be —one blood red, one electric blue.

They pierce through the darkness like beacons, illuminating the rain between us in an otherworldly glow. My mind struggles to process how someone can move so silently in such weather and how he managed to track me through the woods despite my desperate attempts to lose him.

Then again, Alphas are born hunters.

And I'm nothing but prey.

What’s crazier is how I’ve read instances like this left and right. In dark romance novels where the FMC will race through the forest, her stalker coming after her, ready to catch his little prized mouse in the midst of endless danger.

Just to reap the consequences…

My body hums at the mere thought, the idea of this masked man doing what I’ve read in the depths of dark fiction that kept my mind distracted from the endless torment I’ve dealt with since betraying my family.

Why did I wish for this to turn out that way?

To think being this man’s victim of lust and passion would be the final outcome is far better than being turned in like a criminal to the set of men who will treat me like nothing but a used doll to discard when my value reaches zero…

I catch glimpses of his hair when lightning flashes overhead —artful chaos of purple highlights weaved through strands of silver and black. It's styled in a way that screams rebellion, much like everything else about him.

His broad shoulders strain against the fitted black tactical gear he wears, the material doing nothing to hide the lean muscle underneath. Even through the rain, I can tell his skin holds a natural tan, hinting at a mixed heritage that makes him all the more intriguing.

The way he carries himself speaks of danger —of a predator who knows exactly how lethal he is.Each movement is calculated, and fluid, like a panther ready to pounce.

His height alone is intimidating, towering over my petite frame with ease. The rain rolls off his tactical gear, drops trailing paths that make me want to trace them with my fingers.

Stop it, Kamari. This is not the time to be attracted to your captor.

My traditional nose ring catches the light as I tilt my head back, trying to put at least an inch more space between us.

---