Page 32 of Knot Their Safe Haven
Nothing but shadows and emergency lighting and my own reflection staring back at me like a ghost.
"What?" The word came out sharper than intended, my heart still racing from—from what? A hallucination? A memory made manifest by too little sleep and too much wine?
Knox frowned, that particular expression that meant he was cataloging symptoms like Malcolm would.
"That's the third time I've called your name."
Third time?
"Who's the guy in the suit?" I asked, still staring at the empty space where Alessandro—or my imagination of him—had stood.
Knox's frown deepened, confusion mixing with concern.
"What guy?"
"The one who was just—" I pointed at the glass, but the gesture felt hollow. Empty as the space itself. "There was someone there. Tall, dark hair, expensive coat. Just...watching."
Knox moved to the partition, scanning the main gym with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.
After a moment, he shook his head.
"There's no one here, V. Just us and the emergency lights."
"I swear someone was there," I insisted, but even to my own ears, it sounded weak. Desperate. The kind of thing sleep-deprived Omegas said when their minds started playing tricks.
Knox sighed, and before I could protest, his hand was on my forehead, checking for fever like I was a child. "Did you sleep last night?"
I huffed, shoving his hand away with more force than necessary. "I slept just fine. And I'm telling you, someone was standing right there."
"I can prove no one was there with the cameras," he said, that reasonable tone that made me want to hit something.Preferably him."But I'd have to win something for being right."
The arrogance in his voice, the casual assumption that I was wrong, that I was seeing things—it lit a fire in my chest that had nothing to do with the workout.
"The only thing you'll win is this pussy," I snapped, already turning away, "so go prove someone else wrong to get something more valuable."
The words hung in the air between us, crude and harsh and everything we usually danced around.
I yanked at my gloves, needing something to do with my hands that wasn't wrapping them around his throat.Or pulling him down for a kiss.The line between violence and sex had always been thin with us.
"Repeat what you just said."
His voice had dropped an octave, that particular tone that used to make me wet before I'd learned to armor myself against it.
I pulled the wraps from my fists, noting the blood seeping through where the skin had split.
"The only thing you'll win is this pussy," I repeated without hesitation, focusing on the methodical unwrapping instead of the heat building in the space between us, "so go prove someone else wrong to get something more valuable."
"Why would I find someone else when you're right in front of me?"
The softness in his voice, the genuine confusion—it almost broke through my defenses.
Almost.
I sighed, exhaustion suddenly weighing down my bones like cement.
"Let's just drop this. It's the same conversation you don't want to have, so let's forget it."
I grabbed my bag, shouldering it with more force than necessary. The world tilted slightly…when had I eaten last…and I must have swayed because suddenly Knox's arm was around me, solid, warm, and everything I couldn't let myself lean into.
