Page 13 of Chain Me Knot

Matthew's eyes narrow as he looks between us, finally seeming to register the lethal intent radiating from all three of us. “I don’t give a fuck who you are or what jobs you do. This isn't over.”

“No,” Asher agrees, his tone laced with menace. Every syllable carries a threat of retribution. “It isn’t. But if you ever come near Emma again, it will be. Permanently.”

“Is that a threat, officer?” Matthew says.

“That’s a promise,” Asher growls. “Now, fucking leave before I throw you out myself.”

“Oh, we’ll leave all right. You can be stuck with the medical bill before we reclaim her. She’s already cost us enough.” Matthew’s features twist with smugness. Did I miss something of vital importance? “Don’t forget, the commissioner is a personal friend of mine. When I come to claim my omega, I’ll be taking it along with your jobs.”

The threat hangs in the air as Pack Carmichael shoulder their way past the officers surrounding them. I watch them stalk down the corridor, all old money and entitlement and I know an alpha like that doesn't make threats lightly.

The moment Pack Carmichael disappears around the corner, a heavy silence settles over us, thick enough to choke on. I glance at Asher, his jaw clenchedso tight a muscle jumps visibly beneath his stubble. A wave of foreboding twists my stomach, cold fingers of dread snaking down my spine.

“That’s the second time they’ve mentioned the commissioner,” I say.

Asher gives a tight nod, eyes fixed on the empty corridor. “I heard him.”

We’ve been quietly investigating Axel Turns, looking for hard evidence linking him directly to the omega auctions. So far, we've come up empty. There's plenty of smoke, subtle connections and suspicious coincidences, but nothing solid enough to hold up in court. With someone as powerful as Axel, we have to be absolutely certain before making a move.

“If Pack Carmichael are in bed with the commissioner, Emma could be in far more danger than we expected,” Soren says.

I swallow down the anxious knot sitting heavily in my throat. “Then we can't underestimate their threat or the lengths to which they'll go. If they're willing to openly warn us like this, they're confident they've got us cornered.”

“We’re going to have to play this very carefully,” Soren says.

If we could get Emma to bond with us, it would make this all go away, but that is only a slim chance at the moment. We just need time—time we don't have.

I curse under my breath. Being scent-matched works in our favor, but only if our omega can find a way through her trauma.

And only if she can choose us in return.

Chapter Six

Emma

Isurface slowly from darkness, confused to find myself back in the hospital bed. The IV is in my other arm, secured with extra tape that goes all the way around my arm. My failed escape attempt and consequent freak out is a distant nightmare, but the ache in my muscles tells me it was real.

A beta doctor stands at the foot of my bed, reading through a chart. He looks up, offering a gentle smile that doesn't quite hide his concern. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm Dr. Chen. How are you feeling?”

A laugh tries to bubble up. Bitter. Broken. I swallow it down. How am I feeling? Like I've been living in a basement forever. Like I'm trapped in a body that's more bruise than skin. Like I'm drowning in bonds I neverwanted. That were never my choice. And someone is asking how I feel as though they care? I might be dreaming, but the headache punching behind my eyes is all too real.

“Tired,” I manage. Gods, my voice sounds rough, probably because of not being used in years.

He nods, tucking the chart away. “I need to discuss your condition with you. Are you up for that?”

No. I’m not up for anything, but something in his eyes confirms that I’ll want to know what he tells me, so I nod.

He presses his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, well, worse news than what you’ve been through.” He winces, then continues. “Nothing is going to make what I have to say better, so I’m going to just come out and say it. Rip the band-aid off, as it were.”

He pauses and I wait, nerves so jangled my mouth dries.

He clears his throat and the sugar-coating stops. “I’m afraid you're in a medically dire situation. Your body is severely malnourished and dehydrated. Your blood work shows concerning deficiencies, and there are multiple infections we need to address.”

There’s no need to soften the truth. I already knew all this. Lived it in multicolored horror.

“My alphas didn't exactly look out for me,” I mutter, then immediately regret the words.

Haven training runs as hard as my heart racing in my throat.

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