Page 125 of Knot All is Crystal
Four years of forced bonds.
Tears roll down my face, and I shiver, but it’s not because the room is cold.
It’s because I’m scared.
I can finally admit it now that I’m naked and vulnerable in front of my jailer.
I’m so fucking scared.
I don’t want to die anymore.
I have a pack.
I want to be able to fall in love with them.
I want to listen to Gage’s horrible jokes and Maverick’s unstoppable rambling. I want to whisper in Emmanuel’s arms about plot holes we’ve found in movies.
I want to get to know Puck. The real Puck. Not this facsimile of the Alpha he’s presented for as long as I’ve known him. The Puck that wants to look like his dad and collects discarded things to make them into something beautiful.
But I won’t get to.
I let myself hope, for just a moment, that I could be a regular Omega, that I could have a pack that loved me, and that we could live a life together.
It wouldn’t be easy; we’d have to work on our relationships daily, but it would be worth it.
I don’t know why I let myself have those dreams.
Because I’ve known all along.
The Queen is nothing but the shield the King hides behind.
And to take down the Conglomerate, I’m going to have to go with him.
* * *
My body aches.
I’ve been standing naked, at attention, for two hours. Kieran hangs the gun loosely by his side, but just because it’s not aimed at me doesn’t mean it’s not a threat.
“Kieran,” I say through a raspy throat. I could really use some water. “What can I do? You seem distressed.”
He whips his gaze up to me. “Oh, I seem distressed? Do I, Queenie?” He laughs hollowly. “Of course I’m distressed! The fucking FBI is on my heels, raiding my one remaining manufacturing facility. Because of this, I must redirect the production of fizz to a backup facility that lacks the necessary bandwidth to adequately support my needs. I’ve got sales lined up for massive amounts to break into the European, South American, and Asian markets, and I can’t fulfill them because I had to send my manufacturing dark!”
He runs his hands through his hair, messing up the slicked-back salt and pepper strands. When he releases them, and they fall haphazardly in his eyes, a sense of deja vu that is so strong I can’t ignore it smacks me in the face.
There is something about him that is so familiar, and not in the “you’ve held me hostage for four years” way.
“So yes, of course, I’m distressed. I’ve got to figure a way out of this fucking mess, and then I find out you’ve gone and packed yourself up? I ignored your heat sharing with Tyler, but this is different!”
How does he know about my time with Tyler? Does that mean he knows who Atlas is? Fuck, he can’t know.
“Do you not realize how fucking weak this makes me look?” A growl rumbles in his chest, and the sour smell of his pheromones hits me square in the chest. “You are mine, Crystal. Everyone knows it. And then you’re off galavanting around with some weak fucking Alphas and a Beta?”
I don’t like that he knows the makeup of my pack.
There’s no telling how much he knows about them. I can only pray it’s not anything more than that.
“You’re a smart girl, Crystal. It’s why I’ve always liked you. You did that showcase your final year at the Omega Academy, do you remember? The talent show that was supposed to convince packs to sign up for socials?”
