Page 68 of Knot So Lucky
The bitterness in my voice surprises even me.
"I guess he's just a cocky coward who knew my brother and Cale would probably lose their careers for the sake of beating him to a pulp if he revealed what actually happened."
My eyes are growing heavy again, exhaustion pulling at me with insistent fingers. The confession has taken what little energy I had, leaving me wrung out and vulnerable in ways I usually guard against.
"I have no idea why I just aired my dirty laundry like that," I mutter, words slurring slightly. "I'm totally sorry. Give me a bit to rest and I'll act like a badass again."
Elias's frown deepens, and his hand resumes its gentle stroking—feather-light touches that map the curve of my cheekbone with reverent care.
"You shouldn't be apologizing," he says firmly, voice carrying authority despite its softness. "And if you need rest, just say the word. I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."
I force my eyes open to look at him properly.
Take in the concerned furrow of his brow, the way his jaw is tight with barely controlled emotion, the gentleness in thosesoft green eyes that's so at odds with every Alpha I've ever encountered.
"You're a pretty calm Alpha," I observe, and I can hear the drug-induced wonder in my own voice.
His lips quirk into a small smile. "Is that a compliment?"
"Observation." I let my eyes drift closed again, exhaustion winning the battle. "I'm totally intrigued about you being a tech. But I'll keep my rain check for that conversation."
"Fair enough." The amusement in his voice is warm, inviting. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Is there anything I can do?" he asks after a moment, and the genuine offer in his tone makes my chest tight.
I force my eyes open halfway, just enough to see his face through my lashes.
"Are we really scent-matched?"
The question comes out more vulnerable than I intended. Small and uncertain in ways Aurora Lane isn't supposed to be.
Elias's expression softens impossibly further, and he nods slowly.
"Yes." The confirmation is barely above a whisper. "But we don't need to talk about it until you're ready. No pressure. No expectations."
The relief that floods through me is almost overwhelming.
As if that's what I needed to hear.
Not demands for explanations or claims of ownership or any of the Alpha posturing I've learned to expect. Just... patience. Understanding. A willingness to let me set the pace.
"Would it be weird," I hear myself asking, "if you just held me for a bit?"
The words surprise me as much as they probably surprise him.
"Just... keep that touch. Since it makes me feel safe."
There's a pause, and I can practically hear him thinking. Weighing options. Considering implications.
"I can do more than that," he finally says. "But I need to ask…is it okay if I hold you? Like, actually get in the bed with you?"
The request should probably set off alarm bells.
This is a stranger. An Alpha I've known for less than a day. Someone who could use this vulnerability against me in a thousand different ways.
But my Omega instincts are screaming yes with such intensity that logic doesn't stand a chance.
The immense craving to be in this man's arms—despite him practically being a stranger—overrules every rational thought my brain tries to produce.
