Page 3 of Knot So Lucky
"Luca—" I start, but I don't even know what I'm going to say.
The spell breaks.
Reality crashes back in with the force of a ten-car pile-up, and suddenly I remember why this is impossible, why I've been running, why I canneverlet anyone—especially not him—figure out what I really am.
I shove against his chest,hard, putting space between us even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to press closer.
"It doesn't matter what you want," I spit out, and I barely recognize my own voice—it's too high, too breathless, too Omega. I force it lower, harder, back into the register I've trained myself to use. "Because to the outside world, I'm just a fucking noob pit tech who can be replaced."
The words taste like ash on my tongue, but they're true.
Without my disguise, without the carefully constructed identity that's kept me safe all these years, I'm nobody. I'm just another Omega in a world that's made it crystal clear we're decorative at best, disposable at worst.
"Replaced?"
The word comes out as a roar, and suddenly he's in my space again, but this time there's nothing sexual about it—it's pure Alpha fury, the kind that makes lesser people cower. That’s the thing, though.
I'm not lesser people.
I glare right back at him, chin up, refusing to show the fear that's dancing along my spine.
"Then bemy pit tech," he snarls, and the possessiveness in those three words makes my Omega purr with satisfaction even as my rational brain is screaming warnings. "The one who's about to ensure I fuckingwinthis shit."
His hands are on my shoulders now, gripping tight, and the look in his eyes has shifted from lust to something fiercer, more desperate.
"Because guess what?" he continues, and there's a manic edge to his voice now, like he's been holding this in for too long and it's finally exploding out. "Thanks to you, I was able to drive that freak accident of a car that almost got me killed the last two races. Thanks toyou, the suspension actually works. Thanks toyou, we have a shot at making this victory real and not just virtual wins and stupid medals shipped in the fucking mail."
Each word hits like a stabbing sword cutting into flesh.
He knows.
Not just that I'm a woman—he knows it wasmewho fixed his car, me who's been adjusting his setup in secret through the ghost accounts I've been using to access the team's systems, me who's been the difference between disaster and dominance.
"My pack has dreamed of winning this championship," he says, and now his voice drops to something quieter, more raw. "And guess what? To win, tosucceed, we need you."
He leans in, close enough that I can see gold flecks in those amber eyes, close enough that his breath ghosts across my lips.
"Not just because you're a fucking talented, bossy asshole who turns us on."
My breath catches.
"Not just because you smell like—" he inhales deeply, and I can see the moment my scent hits him fully, the way his eyes flutter closed and his expression morphs into something between pain and ecstasy, "—like fuckingtrouble. Like Cale says."
Cale.
My chest tightens at the mention of his name.
Does Luca's pack know about the complicated history between me and Cale Hart? About the way we've been circling each other for years in a toxic dance of want and anger and unfinished business? Are they okay with the fact that Cale and I have this hot-and-cold thing that neither of us can seem to kill or commit to?
"We needyou, Aurora."
Hearing my real name—not the alias I've been hiding behind for years, not Rory Lane the pit tech—from his lips makes something in my chest crack wide open.
He knows everything…
"I fucking need you."
The admission hangs between us, raw and honest and terrifying.
