Page 102 of Knot So Lucky
Her frown tells me she wants to argue, wants to insist she's fine and can handle it, and doesn't need anyone worrying about her.
But she also knows I'm right.
I can see it in the way her shoulders slump slightly, in the resignation that clouds her storm-green eyes, in the way her hand moves away from the pill bottle like it burns.
"I get where you're coming from," she says quietly, and there's vulnerability in her voice that she rarely allows. "I know you're worried about me."
"Of course I'm worried about you," I tell her, not bothering to hide the intensity of that concern. "You just raced while still recovering from a car crash. You're running on suppressants that are probably doing terrible things to your system. You've revealed your identity to the entire world, which means every assumption you've relied on for protection just evaporated."
I reach out, taking her hand in mine and squeezing gently.
"And now you're potentially scent-matched to an entire pack of Alphas, which your biology wants to bond with while your brain is pumping it full of chemicals that prevent exactly that. Something's got to give, and I'd prefer it's not you."
Aurora stares at our joined hands for a long moment, processing.
Then she nods—slow and reluctant but genuine.
"Fine," she agrees. "After the press conference, we'll talk. All of us. Figure out what the fuck is happening with this scent match situation and what to do about the suppressants."
I let go of her hand reluctantly, standing and grabbing a bottle of water from Richard's mini-fridge.
She watches me with confused curiosity as I return and hand her the water along with her pill bottle.
"Thought you said not to take one?"
"I said you need to stop soon," I correct, twisting the cap off the water for her. "But you also need to get through a press conference without your scent breaking through and causing a riot. Take one now. Make it your last if possible."
She considers this, then nods and dry-swallows a pill before chasing it with water.
I wait until she's finished, then offer my hand to help her stand.
She takes it, allowing me to pull her up, and I'm struck by how small she is when she's not projecting confidence and aggression. How the racing suit hangs slightly loose on her frame, designed for someone with Roran's broader shoulders and longer torso.
"You don't need to answer anything you don't want to answer during the press conference," I tell her firmly, making sure she meets my eyes. "Understand? They're going to ask invasive questions, make assumptions, and try to get sound bites that make good headlines. You don't owe them shit."
"Understood," she says, but there's a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I can't help myself.
I lean in slowly—giving her time to pull away if she wants—and press the gentlest kiss to her lips. Nothing like the claiming display from earlier. Just soft and tender and carrying all the words I don't know how to say.
When I pull back, her eyes are wide and slightly dazed.
"I'm proud of you," I whisper, voice rough with emotion I'm not practiced at expressing. "Watching you on that track, seeing you race like you were born to it... Aurora, you were fucking magnificent."
She tries to hide her smile, ducking her head and biting her lip like she can physically suppress the reaction.
But I catch it anyway.
That wide grin of pure triumph that transforms her entire face makes her look younger and freer and absolutely radiant with joy.
That's the smile I want to protect.
The unguarded expression that says she's exactly where she's supposed to be, doing exactly what she's meant to do.
Even if it means sharing her with a pack I've never met.
Requires navigating complications I can't begin to predict.
