Page 75 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

A shadow fell across Serenity as Lucian stepped forward, his movement so fluid it seemed he'd materialized from thin air. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as he positioned himself partially between her and Malcolm.

"I believe the lady has made herself clear," Lucian said, his refined voice carrying a chill that made Malcolm's previousthreats seem like summer warmth. His amber eyes had hardened to the color of ancient amber preserving something dangerous within. "Your hand, Malcolm. Remove it from her person. Now."

The word hung in the air like the moment before glass shatters. Malcolm's fingers still hovered near Serenity's arm, but now they trembled almost imperceptibly.

Darius stepped forward on Serenity's other side, his towering frame casting another shadow.

"The Society's reach is impressive," he said, his gray eyes calculating as a winter storm. "But you seem to have miscalculated how far our patience extends."

"And that's a fucking dangerous mistake," Ronan added, completing their triangle around her. His scarred knuckles cracked as he flexed his hands. "See, we're not just rich assholes with fancy titles. We're the kind of men who built empires while the Society was still figuring out how to collect their membership dues."

Serenity felt their combined presence behind her like a wall of solid heat, the distinct scents of their Alpha pheromones blending into something primal and overwhelming. The air vibrated with barely contained aggression.

Lucian leaned closer to Malcolm, his perfectly tailored suit not showing a single wrinkle despite the tension coiled in his body.

"I have a file on every Society member in this district," he murmured, voice pitched for Malcolm's ears alone, though Serenity caught every word. "Including that creative accounting you've been doing with the eastern sector's tribute funds. Fascinating reading."

Malcolm's face drained of color.

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?" Lucian's smile never reached his eyes. "Test me. Please."

Christ, he's terrifying when he wants to be,Serenity thought, a shiver running down her spine that wasn't entirely fear.

Malcolm's gaze darted between the three Alphas, his earlier confidence evaporating like morning mist. His hand fell away from Serenity, and he took a half-step backward.

"The Society will hear about this," he managed, but his voice had lost its edge. The threat sounded hollow even to Serenity's ears.

"By all means," Darius replied, straightening his already immaculate cuffs. "When you report back, be thorough. Mention how we stand united. Mention how our resources remain intact. And certainly mention how our Omega carries herself with more dignity than your entire delegation."

Malcolm retreated another step, his bodyguards shifting nervously behind him.

Sweat beaded on his upper lip.

"This matter isn't closed," he said, attempting to salvage some authority, but his voice cracked on the final word.

Ronan's laugh was a harsh bark.

"Looks pretty fucking closed from where I'm standing."

Malcolm turned sharply, gesturing to his men, who seemed relieved to have an excuse to leave. Their once-intimidating formation now resembled nothing so much as a hasty retreat.

As the Society members disappeared through the hotel's service exit, Serenity felt the shift in the room's atmosphere—like a pressure valve releasing. Something fundamental had changed. The Alphas had defended her not as property but as part of their unit, and in doing so, they'd transformed from three powerful individuals into something more formidable: a pack.

Serenity sank into the plush leather chair, her fingers pressing against her temples. The temporary safety of Lucian's penthouse suite offered little comfort against the turmoil in her mind. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the cityscape glittered with false promises of normalcy—a world she no longer belonged to.

"Here." Darius appeared at her side, offering a glass of amber liquid. "It's the good stuff. Thought you might need it."

She accepted without a word, the crystal cool against her palm. The whiskey burned down her throat, a welcome distraction from the burn of realization spreading through her consciousness.

"You held your ground impressively back there," Ronan commented, leaning against the mahogany bar. His voice carried a note of grudging respect. "Not many have stared down Malcolm Thorne and lived to brag about it."

"I wasn't trying to impress anyone," Serenity replied, swirling the liquor. "I was protecting my assets."

Lucian, who had been quietly conversing in the corner, approached with measured steps. "Is that all we are to you, Ms. Vale? Assets?"

Something in his tone made her look up, meeting those piercing eyes. For a brief moment, she glimpsed vulnerability beneath his calculated exterior.

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