Page 91 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

When the door closed behind him, Serenity let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The room felt suddenly larger without his presence, and colder too. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to process the complicated mess of emotions his uninvited presence had evoked.

Irritation, yes. But also something dangerously close to desire.

"Get it together," she muttered to herself as she headed for the shower. "This isn't some romance novel. You're fighting for survival, not falling for three alphas with questionable morals and too much power."

Yet as the hot water cascaded over her shoulders, she couldn't quite banish the memory of Lucian's warmth, or the sense of security she'd felt in his arms. It was biology, she reminded herself. Omega responses to compatible alpha pheromones. Nothing more.

The lie tasted bitter,even unspoken.

The kitchen was already occupiedwhen Serenity arrived thirty minutes later, her hair still damp from an extended, meditative session in the shower. She'd taken her time, not just to wash away the night's confusion but to prepare herself for the morning's inevitable entanglements. Dressed in tailored black pants and a cream silk blouse, she chose her outfit as purposeful as any battle gear. It was armor of a different sort—professional, controlled, a visual reminder to herself and the alphas that she was not merely some omega to be claimed. She was a businesswoman, an heir to an empire, and she wouldn't let anyone forget it.

She paused at the entryway, taking in the scene. Darius stood at the massive professional range, his movements precise as he flipped something in the pan with the same measured control he applied to everything. His casual yet confident posture exudedan authority that seemed utterly unshakable, even in domestic settings. It struck her as absurdly fitting that the heir to a crime dynasty would also command a kitchen with the same mastery he did entire territories.

Her gaze shifted to where Ronan sat sprawled at the wide marble island, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he watched her. His presence was as raw and unfiltered as ever, a stark contrast to Lucian's polished refinement and Darius's controlled composure. She knew he'd be the one least likely to respect her carefully constructed boundaries—Ronan followed his own rules and no one else's.

"Looking sharp this morning," he drawled, his voice cutting through the soft sizzle of cooking like a knife. "Important meeting we don't know about?"

“No,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. "Just trying to maintain some standards around here."

Serenity held her breath as she spoke, fighting the mix of amusement and exasperation Ronan always seemed to elicit in her. His presence was a force field of chaos that dared her to abandon the control she clung to so fiercely. It was a challenge she both resented and was irresistibly tempted by. Her eyes flickered to Darius, then back to Ronan, who lounged with such practiced indifference, he seemed fused to the sleek kitchen island. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.

Especially not after the morning she'd just had.

Ronan grinned, his smirk widening into a full-fledged smile that highlighted the rugged sharpness of his features. The deceptively casual way he draped himself over the chair, his confidence as brazen as ever, only added to her internal frustration. He was dressed in faded jeans and a worn t-shirt, his usual uniform of rebellious nonchalance, and she found herselfwondering once again how someone so unpredictable could feel so permanent.

She moved into the room, every step calculated to project an air of ease she didn't quite feel. Being mindful not to appear too hurried or too awkward, she sat a few seats down from him, arching an eyebrow as if daring him to challenge her unconvincing show of calm. If Lucian's surprise visit had shaken her, she was damned if she'd let Ronan know it.

Ronan's eyes never left her, watching every movement with an intensity that would have unnerved her if she didn't know him better. He had a knack for reading her well, sometimes too well, and she wasn't in the mood for any more invasions, physical or otherwise. Still, even with the defenses she'd spent years perfecting, she found herself intrigued by his insistence on understanding her.

"Standards, huh?" Ronan teased. "Didn't realize claiming an empire had such a formal dress code. Or are you just trying to impress us?"

She rolled her eyes, brushing off his probing with practiced indifference, even as the accusation pierced a little too close to the truth. Was she trying to impress them? The thought prickled at her, unwanted and irritating. She tightened her arms across her chest, a stance of defiance more than comfort. Her feelings about them—and about her current situation—were a mess, and she couldn't let herself slip into a role she'd spent her whole life resisting.

"No one's ever accused you of having standards before," she shot back. "You wouldn't recognize them if they bit you."

But his comment lingered, as irritating as it was provocative. Was it a weakness to want to appear strong in front of your adversaries, even if those adversaries were also your reluctant allies? Or maybe it was a strategy, she rationalized. Keep themguessing, keep them off balance. Convince them you were something more than they expected.

Or maybe she was just fooling herself.

She shifted her gaze over to Darius, who remained unperturbed by the banter, absorbed in the task of cooking breakfast with the same meticulous precision he applied to his more dubious enterprises. The sight was disconcertingly domestic, a jarring juxtaposition to the power and ruthlessness she knew him to possess. It was almost like seeing a wild animal masquerade as a house pet, and she couldn't help but be fascinated by the incongruity.

"Didn't know you could cook," she remarked, aiming her words at Darius but fully aware that Ronan was watching for her reaction to this unexpected domesticity. "I'm not going to find poison in my coffee as part of some hostile takeover, am I?"

Her attempt at levity was partially a deflection, a way to avoid confronting the unsettling emotions roiling beneath her carefully composed exterior. The vulnerability she'd felt in Lucian's arms—the way her mind and body had betrayed her instincts—still echoed in her thoughts, making her painfully aware of how these men, each in their own way, had the potential to unravel her.

"We don't need poison," Ronan interjected, his expression wickedly amused. "Darius's cooking will knock you out all on its own."

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips despite her intentions. Ronan's irreverent humor was infuriating, yet it also had a way of breaking through her walls, offering a momentary reprieve from the relentless calculations that ruled her life.

"You should be dressed like that more often," he added, his gaze sweeping over her with apparent appreciation. "Almost makes you look like you belong here."

The statement caught her off guard, a reminder that even a simple compliment from Ronan carried layers of meaning. Did she belong here? The truth was she didn't know, and the uncharacteristic uncertainty gnawed at her. It was a new kind of vulnerability, one she'd thought she'd inoculated herself against but was now discovering in these perilous new dynamics.

"Don't hold your breath," she replied, doing her damnedest to keep her tone light and carefree, like she wasn't even phased by his comment, and unwilling to let him see how deeply his words resonated. They hit with deadly accuracy, and she chafed at how well he could read her, at how easily he got under her skin. Fire back, she told herself. You're not some helpless Omega letting these Alphas take charge. You're Serenity freaking Vale. Get a grip.

"Shouldn't you be out making trouble somewhere?" she added, forcing herself to act unbothered. "Or has domestic life tamed you already?"

Ronan's grin only widened. He gave a little shrug, one so casual it bordered on dismissive. "Maybe I just like it here," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

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