Page 36 of Knot Ruined

Colby and I move in sync, silent and efficient like we’ve done this a thousand times before, even though we’ve just met. If this goes well, I wouldn’t mind working with him in the future. The two men are still leaning against the front of the run-down house, lost in conversation. They don’t belong here. And in a few seconds, they won’t be here at all. I close the distance in two long strides, my footsteps masked by the distant hum of traffic. The first man barely had time to turn his head before I snatched the back of his neck, my grip ironclad.

One sharp jab to the kidney. He sucks in a pained breath, his knees already starting to buckle. Good.

Before he can drop, I bring up my elbow and slam it into his temple. His body goes slack instantly, all resistance draining as he crumples forward.

At the same time, Colby handles the second guy. No wasted effort—just a quick, brutal strike to the throat, cutting off any chance of sound, followed by a precise blow to the side of his head.

Two men. Down in seconds.

Silent. Efficient.

I barely break stride as I grab my guy under the arms, hauling him up like a sack of dead weight. Colby does the same, his movements are as smooth as practiced.

The SUV door swings open, and without a word, we toss the unconscious bodies inside, letting them land in a heap on the floor.

I wipe my hands down the front of my jeans, my pulse steady, breathing even. Colby smooths his shirt like he just handled the paperwork, not a damn abduction.

No words. No questions. Just a job done right.

After I slide in on the driver's side, I press buttons on the steering wheel, listening to the phone ring. Kingston answers. “Got two,” I grunt before hanging up.

Twenty minutes after that, the two men are strung up, naked and slightly bloody.

The pit is pristine and cleaned after each use. The door behind me opens, and Kingston struts in, wearing one of his suits. I want to laugh at how he always looks like a GQ model. Voss follows with a maniacal grin on his face, with Romano following. His usual exuberance has dimmed. That right there is one reason to destroy whoever is behind this. John is next with an expression of thunder. My eyebrows rise when Fallon is the last to enter the room.

She scrunches her cute nose. “Gross.” I’m worried for all of two seconds. Will she judge us, hate us, fear us? I don’t think I could handle my mate leaving us. Especially before she even knows who we are to her. “Those are two dicks I’ll never be able to unsee.”

I want to laugh at the offended expressions on dumb and dumber. Both have mildly muscular bodies, black hair, and similar features. Huh, I think they are twins. Even better for what we are about to do. Voss grabs the back of Fallon’s neck, pulling her to him. Pressing his entire body against her, he kisses her deeply. I’m not a jealous man. I take pride in my packmates getting closer to our little mate. He pulls back leaving her dazed as he steps into the pit.

“What gifts have you brought me this time, Jace?” Voss’ voice is like velvet as he circles our captives.

“I can’t take all the credit. Colby helped.” I tell him, amused by his antics.

Voss tosses him a smile. “I do love presents.”

I glance at Fallon sitting in a chair with her legs crossed. I can’t read the look on her face. It’s blank. Her eyes, however, are blazing with a rage I’ve never seen. Even Voss’ anger is a blank mask. I adore the cute, bubbly version of her. She’s so sweet, beautiful and kind. This side of her however, there are so many words to describe this visceral feeling inside of me. She’s vicious, violent, gorgeous, and Gods damn, does it make me hard. My cock is straining painfully against my zipper. Hearing a grunt, I turn my attention back to the pit.

Voss has Dumb’s head tilted back with a handful of hair. His favorite razer sharp knife hovering above his throat. He’s looking at Dumber, though. “Tell us what we want to know, or we can play my favorite game.”

“What is your favorite game?” Fallon calls out curiosity, threading through her tone.

Voss tilts his head to look at her, grinning. “I’m glad you asked Princess.” He turns back to the men. “Have you ever heard of ‘Death by a thousand Cuts’ No? Well, buckle in, gentlemen. He releases Dumb and sets his knife down. “It’s actually called Lingchi. In the Chinese culture, it’s loosely translated to ‘slow cuts’ or ‘death of a thousand cuts.’” He starts pacing like a professor teaching his students, his hands clasped behind his back. I have to swallow a laugh.

Voss paces slowly, his boots grinding against the concrete floor, each step measured, deliberate. Calculated. His voice is low, almost conversational, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it. A dark, simmering pleasure in the way he drags out every word.

“Do you know how this works?” he asks, tilting his head just slightly, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable.

The men don’t answer. They can’t. One is still half-conscious, the other staring up at Voss like he’s staring at Death himself.

Voss smirks. “It’s a slow death,” he continues, his voice almost casual, amused. “That’s the beauty of it. First, we tie you up—arms stretched, completely exposed, nowhere to run.” He pauses, then grins. “Step one complete. Then, we start cutting. Small at first. Strips of flesh, peeled away, one by one.” His fingers mimic the motion, tracing the air like he’s already slicing them open. “No set pattern. No rules. Just cut, and cut, and cut.”

I watch as the color drains from their faces. Their bodies tensed like cornered prey.

Voss leans forward, his smirk widening. “It’s not just about the pain. It’s about the humiliation. The fear. The slow, creeping realization that you are going to die, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

He gestures vaguely. “And then, there’s the best part—your suffering doesn’t end when you stop breathing. Because your body? Your remains? They’ll be left for the world to see. A message. A warning.”

Dumb whimpers, his breath coming faster, his chest rising and falling in short, panicked bursts. Voss watches him, his smile never fading.

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