Page 43 of Knot Gonna Lie
His brother—Keanu, if memory served—carried himself with colder calculation than Owen’s hot-headed arrogance. Where Owen burned bright with rage, Keanu moved like winter given form. Their cousin, broader and bearing scars across his knuckles, radiated the kind of barely leashed violence that made security guards reach for their weapons.
They stopped just outside polite distance, close enough to loom, far enough to claim innocence if challenged.
“The thief and his stolen prize.” Owen’s voice carried across the restaurant like acid poured over silk. Conversations died at nearby tables, heads turning toward the deliberate provocation. “How’s it feel, knowing you’re bonded to a fraud?”
Ice crystallized in my veins. He knew. Somehow, he’d discovered the truth about my borrowed identity.
I rose slowly, every movement controlled despite the snarl building in my throat. The alpha in me wanted blood for the threat they represented, but the businessman knew better. Violence in neutral territory meant expulsion from the station—exactly what they wanted.
“This is a private dinner, Owen. You’re not welcome here.”
“Private?” Keanu’s laugh held all the warmth of deep space. “Nothing’s private when you’ve made a mockery of The Den’ssacred traditions. When you’ve stolen what belongs to worthier alphas.”
“We know what you did,” their cousin added, scarred face twisting with cruel satisfaction. “Using your brother’s registration. Entering under false pretenses. The Matron will beveryinterested to hear how her precious system’s been compromised.”
Beside me, Elara remained perfectly still, but through our bond I felt her emotions—not only fear, but fierce protectiveness that matched my own. She believed in me, trusted me completely, even as the even ground crumbled beneath our feet.
I don’t deserve you.
“The only thing stolen here,” I said, letting boredom color my tone despite my racing heart, “is our evening by your presence. I entered. She chose. If you have complaints about the system, take them to the Matron.”
“Oh, we will.” Owen stepped closer, just enough to make my alpha instincts bare teeth. “We’ll tell her everything. How Luca Coco committed fraud. How he contaminated the sacred selection process. How his omega deserves better than a lying—”
“Four times.”
Seth’s voice cut through Owen’s building tirade like a scalpel through diseased tissue. He hadn’t moved from the booth, but something in his tone made all three antagonists turn.
“Four times you’ve stood in that arena,” Seth continued, clinical precision in every word. “Four times you’ve been rejected. The public records are quite illuminating.”
“Maybe,” I added, stepping forward to use my height advantage, “you should focus on why no omega wants you instead of stalking ones who’ve made their choice crystal clear.”
Owen’s face darkened like a storm breaking. “You fucking—”
“Gentlemen.” The maître d’ materialized with security, their presence filling the space with unspoken authority. “I must insist you leave immediately. You’re disturbing our guests.”
For a heartbeat, violence hung in the air like a suspended breath. Owen’s hands clenched and unclenched, his brother’s cold calculation weighing odds, their cousin rolling scarred knuckles in anticipation.
Then Owen smiled—and that expression chilled me more than any snarl could have.
“Enjoy your fantasy while it lasts,” he snarled, but his eyes found Elara, lingering with intent that made my alpha instincts scream for blood. “When the truth comes out—and itwill—she’ll need arealalpha. One who didn’t build his claim on lies. One who can actually protect her from what’s coming.”
“Is that a threat?” The growl that ripped from my throat was pure possession, only Seth’s restraining hand keeping me from lunging across the space between us.
“It’s a promise,” Keanu answered for his brother, that deep space-cold voice carrying absolute certainty. “The station has rules. The Matron has standards. And fraud…” He smiled, thin and sharp as a blade. “Fraud breaks the sacred contract. Makes the bond voidable. Makes the omega…available.”
“Try it,” I snarled, every muscle coiled for violence. “Come near her—any of you—and see what happens when you threaten what’smine.”
“Yours?” Their cousin laughed, the sound like breaking glass. “For now, maybe. But when the Matron learns what you’ve done, when your brother discovers your betrayal, when the whole station knows you’re nothing but a common thief playing at being worthy…”
“Leave.” The growl that ripped from my throat was pure possession. Only Seth’s hand on my arm kept me from lunging across the space between us. “Before I make you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELARA
The restaurant’s crystalline warmth shattered like glass against Owen’s presence. His burnt lime scent had curdled into something far worse—rage fermented into obsession, thick enough to choke on.
I felt Luca’s fury through our bond before I saw it, a white-hot spike of protective instinct that made my own pulse stutter. The easy contentment we’d woven between us—that precious bubble of normalcy—cracked under the weight of Owen’s accusations.
