Page 12 of Knot Broken

Just a crack. A sliver of dim hallway light spilling into the room.

Violet slips through like a shadow, barefoot and silent, her expression calm—butsharp.She closes the door behind her with practiced care, her eyes sweeping the room, finding all three of us in an instant.

I exhale through my nose, relief hitting me like a sucker punch. Jex straightens just a little. Fox lowers his weapon—only slightly.

She glances at the gun, then at our stances, and lifts her fingers to flash three at us. Her other hand dips to her hip, and Icatch a glimpse of steel in the dim light—a knife tucked into the waistband of her sleep shorts.

She ties the oversized shirt she’s wearing into a knot at her lower back, exposing her stomach, her thighs, herintent.

She’s not here to hide.

She’s here to fight.

And fuck, my heart does something I can’t name.

Fox steps forward and gently pushes on her head, guiding her lower and motioning her to crouch. She obeys with a tight nod, her eyes still scanning the room, sharp and focused.

We don’t speak. We don’t need to. She’s telling us something—three intruders, living room, moving quietly. And she’s ready to take them down with us.

Goddamn. Our girl is terrifying.

And I’ve never wanted her more.

My cock twitches in response to the sight of her crouched there like some feral dream, blade in hand and eyes sharp enough to cut. But I shove it down. Lock it away. Now’s not the time.

Even if I amhalf in lovewith my mate and wholly fucking obsessed. If anyone out there so much as breathes wrong in her direction, they’re going to learn exactly how bad of a fucking idea that is. Violet doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Her grip on that knife is solid, and her knuckles pale around the hilt like she was born for this. Her blue eyes flick between the three of us—alert, focused, waiting for our lead.

Fox goes first, silent as breath, pressing his ear to the door, one hand loose at his side, the other still gripping his gun. Jex takes the opposite side, a shadow despite the size of him, hisframe shifting with surgical control. I hang back, eyes locked on Violet, giving her a single, silent order:stay put.

She nods once, lips tight, chest rising slow and steady. But her fingers tighten around the blade, and her scent sharpens—lemon frosting over fire.

My omega.

And right now, there’snothingsoft about her.

Fury coils in my chest like a live wire, buzzing hot under my skin—but I keep it locked down. Controlled.Useful.

This isn’t the time to rage.

This is the time to end the threat.

Jex lifts two fingers. The signal. One smooth breath, and we move.

Fox goes first—fluid, precise. His bare feet were silent on the floor. The first guy never stands a chance. He’s got his back to us, weapon raised, trained on Violet’s bedroom door. The second he shifts his weight, Fox is on him. One brutal twist of his wrist, and the gun clatters to the floor, harmless.

The man doesn’t get to cry out. Fox slams his knee into his ribs, drives a fist into the side of his head. He crumples instantly, unconscious before he hits the ground.

The second one reacts fast—too fast for most. But not for Jex.

They collide with the force of a dropped wrecking ball. The man throws a punch, sharp and well-aimed, but Jex doesn’t flinch. He catches it midair, wrenches the guy’s arm in a way no joint should bend, and flips him onto his back with a sickeningthud.There’s a crack—a groan. The man doesn’t get up again.

The third man is the danger. He’s bigger. Smarter. Faster. His weapon swings up with terrifying control, aimed clean at the hallway.

Violet.

I don’t think. I move. I lunge, grabbing the barrel, jerking it up just as the silenced shot rips past my ear. The sound is nothing—just a breath of sound—but it still sends my blood screaming. I drive my elbow into his face. Cartilage crunches. Blood gushes. He staggers, but this one doesn’t drop. He fights. We grapple, the hallway too narrow, too tight. He swings, and I duck, my blade biting deep into his side. He grunts, rage thick in the sound. He’s still holding the gun, but he’s off-balance.

I slam my knee into his stomach. Again. Again. When he buckles, I hit him square in the throat. His breath chokes off. He collapses, gasping. One more punch to the side of the head, and he’s out. Fox and Jex are already restraining the others. Fast. Efficient. One man groans low, the other is unconscious. We use their own cuffs, twist them tight. Blood smears the floor. Someone’s bleeding hard.

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