Page 7 of Knot Broken

“What’s going on?”

I close my eyes and drag a hand down my face, fingertips digging into the ache behind my eyes. Everything feels raw—my skin, my heart, my voice. “It’s… complicated,” I admit. “But I’ll give you the short version.”

I lay it out for her. The interrogation. The month of silence. The government connection. The fucked-up web that’s bigger than we ever realized.

“They were only supposed to debrief,” I say softly. “That’s what they told me. Just a check-in, and then they were coming back for me. Instead, they were detained. Cut off. Controlled.”

There’s a long pause on the line.

“They’ll just keep coming,” Fallon says at last, her voice distant and hollow, like she’s staring at something far away and ugly. “Even if we dismantle another hold house, they’ll rebuild somewhere else. Because the ones buying those omegas? They’re protected. Hidden behind the same people claiming to keep us safe.”

“That’s exactly it,” I murmur, my fingers white-knuckled around the steering wheel. “I thought you needed to know, Fallon. Because whoever’s behind this... they don’t care that we’ve started to unravel it. They’re not going to stop.”

“We need to shut the auctions down. Expose them.” Her voice dips lower, half to herself, like she’s already calculating every move. “Thanks for telling me,” she says a moment later, heavier now. “But if you think I’m just going to sit back and let them get away with this, you clearly don’t know me as well as you think, Vi.”

I snort, the sound a little sharp from the tension still wired through my body. “Oh, Iknewyou were gonna say that. Just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Are you coming back to Chicago soon?” I ask, leaning my head against the steering wheel, the phone still pressed tight to my ear.

“As soon as I can. I’ve got a few things to wrap up here, but once I’m done—I’m on the first flight out.”

There’s a pause. And then her voice drops, low and lethal.

“And when I get there? We tear down every last one of those bastards.”

A slight chill prickles over my skin.

“Good,” I say, and this time my voice is solid, the steel starting to return. “Because if they think they can keep doing this and walk away clean... they’re dead wrong.”

I step out of the car and head toward the house, keys jangling in one hand, the other tugging my jacket tighter around my body. If I didn’thaveto leave today, I probably wouldn’t have. Honestly, I would’ve just stayed curled up in the nest like a gremlin avoiding the world and all its emotional chaos.

But an omega’s gotta eat.

And unfortunately, food doesn’t magically appear in my fridge without a paycheck or summoning spell. (Trust me, I’ve checked.)

So I went to work. I lost myself in the blank canvas, letting the brush drag and swirl and bleed out every ugly thought clouding my head. The frustration. The guilt. The aching confusion that still lingers even though they’re back. Every color screamed louder than I could.

At least my omega seems content now. She practicallypurrswhen I think about them—about their hands, their voices, their heat. The hussy.

I pause just outside the kitchen, leaning against the wall. The low murmur of voices drifts through the hallway, and I recognize Jex’s deep, velvety tone, quieter than usual.

“I just… I want to give her everything she could possibly need.”

The words hit me square in the chest.

My breath catches, a soft ache blooming behind my ribs. There’s no bravado in his voice. No calculated charm. Just raw,achingsincerity. It wraps around something wounded in me and holds tight, refusing to let go.

God, these men might destroy me in an entirely new way.

I straighten and round the corner before I lose my nerve, stepping into the kitchen doorway with all the casual confidence I can muster—even if my insides feel like glitter in a blender.

Three pairs of eyes snap toward me, and my breath stutters just a little.

Amber. Storm gray. Deep, molten brown.

All locked on me like I just walked out of their dreams—or maybe one of mine.

Fox’s eyes drop instantly to my legs, the black fishnets clinging like a second skin beneath the hem of my tight dark purple pencil skirt. Combat boots thud softly with each step, grounding me even as their gazes send heat spiraling low in my belly.

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