Page 57 of Knot Their Safe Haven
"She isn't—" Knox started, then stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Right." Alessandro's tone could have frozen hell. "She isn't your official Omega. Never was, despite twenty years of proximity. But I suppose that's a convenient excuse, isn't it? You three grown men have been circling her for decades, claiminglove, claiming devotion, yet not one of you prioritized the woman you supposedly couldn't live without enough to notice she was literally dying."
"That's not?—"
"We didn't?—"
"You can't just?—"
They spoke over each other again, but even I could hear how hollow their protests sounded.
Something closed with a decisive snap—the medical file, probably.
"The recent specialist's report confirms it," Alessandro continued, his voice carrying the particular weight of someone delivering a death sentence. "Without intervention—without a pack bond, without claiming, without the biological support her body has been screaming for—she would have experienced complete organ failure before her fortieth birthday. Six months on the outside, probably less given the acceleration noted in the last two evaluations."
I would have been dead before forty.
The thought sat in my chest like lead. All my fears about aging out of desirability, about becoming invisible, about missing my chance—and I'd actually been dying. Literally withering away while the three men who claimed to love me watched and did nothing.
"Since I requested an Omega specialist who actually specializes in deterioration prevention, Dr. Weiss, flown in from her practice in Munich, she now has options. A few weeks to find an appropriate pack and mate properly, maybe months if we're fortunate and aggressive with treatment. But time is still a factor."
"We can—" Knox's voice was rough. "We can step up. Make it official. If that's what she needs?—"
Alessandro's laugh was soft and infinitely cruel.
"No."
Just that. One word.
Final as a coffin nail.
"You don't get to make that decision—" Knot tries to fight off but is cut off.
"Actually, I do. You had your chance…twenty years of chances…and when the moment came to step up, you chose cowardice. You literally stood in that hallway for six hours debating while she was dying. You forfeited any claim to her the moment you refused to sign those papers."
"You can't just?—"
"I can. I did. It's done." His voice hardened. "She's registered as pack Omega to the Noctuary. My pack. My Omega. My responsibility. You made your bed when you chose your reputations over her life. Now you get to lie in it."
Knox's voice rose to nearly a shout. "You fucking child, you don't understand?—"
A soft giggle cut through the room like silver bells, feminine and amused and somehow more threatening than any growl.
Every muscle in my body wanted to tense, to react to this new presence, but I forced myself to remain limp, breathing steady.
Who—?
"Well, well. The cowards have gathered to defend their non-existent territory."
The voice was pure honey over steel, feminine but carrying the kind of authority that made you want to either kneel or run. The scent that accompanied it was subtle; roses, but not Adyani's desert variety.
These were wild roses, the kind that grew despite adversity, all thorns and defiant beauty.
"I believe your interference is no longer necessary," the voice continued, moving closer. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd loweryour voices. Our Omega is resting, as she should be after the trauma you've subjected her to through your neglect."
"Who the hell are you?" Knox demanded.
