Page 118 of Chain Me Knot

News cameras flash. Gala regulars want to be seen with them. Their popularity sickens me; every smiling face is just another person blind to the monsters hiding behind expensive clothing. On the surface, the four of them are the picture of wealthy, successful alphas. Only I know how rotten they are on the inside.

I will die before I let them take Leah.

The Commissioner of Police makes a show of welcoming them with open arms, embracing them like long-lost brothers. No one would guess that the whole gala is a front for their sick empire.

My skin crawls. I fight to keep my steps slow, my grip gentle on the champagne glass. I want nothing more than to spit at their feet, to scream the truth until the room goes silent and everyone can see the blood on their hands.

Aubrey is nothing but negative space beside them. Not one alpha bothers to acknowledge him. He hovers between them, eyes on the floor, still beneath his pressed jacket. There, but absent.

The minutes crawl by, each one burning a new line into my memory. I loop slow, careful circles around the third floor, Ronan remaining at my side, forcing myself not to show a hint of what I’m feeling. Rage. Disgust. Raw, desperate hate.

It’s almost an hour before the commissioner finally peels away from the bustle, his pack and Pack Carmichael in tow. They move together, slapping backs, clinking glasses, giving every impression of deep, easy friendship. I know better. Pack Carmichael lines the commissioner’s pockets, keeps his secrets, protects his interests and in return he gives them everything they want, no matter who it hurts.

Ronan and I hang back, slipping quietly along the hallway, careful to keep just enough distance not to be noticed but close enough not to lose them. I follow his cues, matching his pace, keeping my head down just enough to avoid eye contact. They disappear into an elevator, and we hover until the numbers above the door pause.

Ronan speaks into the discreet microphone in his sleeve as we head to the stairs at the end of the hallway and begin to meander up. “We’re trailing the targets. Commissioner Turns and Pack Carmichael have moved to level six, northwest corridor.” His calm is an anchor, but my nerves are raw and sparking, each step a battle not to trip over my own feet.

This part of the building is quiet as we step onto the empty sixth floor landing, having passed the last guests on the floor below. We reach a corner, the hush deeper here, as we catch the alphas disappearing through a polished door off the large, spacious hallway.

My pulse thunders in my ears. Sweat pricks the back of my neck. A whiff of honeysuckle blooms around me and I almost stumble. There’s only one reason it has the strength to burn through the de-scenter. I’m not experiencing a heat spike.

Holy fuck, I’m going into full heat.

At the worst possible moment.

We’re so close to Leah. I flatten my back against the wall behind Ronan, forcing the panic down. We can’t afford to lose them. Not now, with everything on the cusp. Bad things go on behind closed doors. We’ll never find them again. I spare a frantic look at Ronan. “We have to follow them. We can’t lose sight of them.”

And whatever it is, it must be caught on the body cams they’re all wearing. We need proof more than I need to stay hidden.

He looks down at me, frustration tightening his features. I know he’s thinking the same thing. “Stay close to my six, Emma. Keep your hand on my belt at all times. You leave my side for nothing, you understand?” His eyes flicker. Sharp, not unkind, but deadly serious.

We pad down the corridor. Ronan turns the handle and peeks around the door into the room. A frown forms on his forehead as we both peer into the shadows and,oh fuck, we really have lost them.

“Come on.”

I follow Ronan into the room but as soon as the door snicks shut behind us, I know something’s wrong. Ronan shifts in front of me, broad and bristling, but three large alphas emerge from the shadows. The looks on their faces curdles my stomach—hungry, smug, vicious.

The cruelest alpha’s thin lips twist into a greasy smile as he tips his head back and drags my scent into his lungs. “Hello, Omega. Welcome back to your rightful pack,” Matthew says.

Chapter Forty-Six

Emma

Ronan grabs my arm and pushes me back toward the door we came through with the brutal, practiced force of a man who’s faced ambushes before. “Emma—out! Now!” His voice is a bark of pure command, his body already bracing for the chaos that explodes around us, but Pack Carmichael moves as one, blocking my retreat.

Matthew lunges at us before I have time to think. James and Derek cut Ronan off before he can open the door again, their grins too wide, too hungry, pure malice in every line.

Ronan meets them head-on, his fists flashing, every movement efficient and brutal. He lands a punch in James’s gut with enough force to fold him, then hammers an elbow into Derek’s jaw, the crack echoing off thewalls. Derek staggers but doesn’t fall; Ronan ducks another blow, blood already leaking from a split over his brow. They’re vicious, fighting dirty, swinging for his face, kicking at his knees, trying to drag him to the floor where their numbers can break his strength.

Ronan is a wall, blocking and countering, grabbing Derek’s arm and twisting until bone threatens to snap but he leaves room for Matthew to grab my shoulders in a brutal grip.

His sharp, cold scent floods my nose, all rot and rage and old nightmares come for me in the flesh. He snarls in my ear, breath hot and sickening. “You thought you could hide, Omega? We’d know you anywhere. That scent, that fear. So delicious. You’re always ours.”

He yanks my wig off in a single, savage rip, the pins snapping, hair tumbling loose. His nose drags along my neck and I jerk back as far as I can in his unrelenting grip, bile rising, terror clawing through me until it’s all I can do to keep breathing.

Ronan’s boots scrape on the floor, the savage impact of flesh on flesh as he battles to reach me, but Derek and James are on him, pinning him back, raining blows on his ribs and head. He releases a roar of pure fury as he tries to claw toward me.

Matthew locks his arm around my waist, dragging me backward, my heels scraping, a scream tearing raw from my throat as he opens the door. Ronan breaks away for a heartbeat, eyes meeting mine, but before he can get to me, James’s fist slams into his temple, driving him down.

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