Page 101 of Knot So Lucky

Aurora's expression crumbles.

Not dramatically. Not with tears or visible breakdown.

Just... crumbles.

Like something fundamental inside her is fracturing under weight she can't carry.

"I don't like it," she says, voice small in ways Aurora Lane's voice should never be. "It feels like I'm stealing his spot. Like I'm taking everything he's worked for since he was ten years old and claiming it as mine."

The guilt in her tone makes my chest ache.

I lean forward, wanting to reach for her but uncertain if touch would help or make it worse.

"We'll have to talk to Roran about it," I say firmly. "This shouldn't be decided without him having input. It's his career, his future. He deserves to be part of the decision."

Richard nods, some tension easing from his shoulders now that we're not fighting him on the basic premise.

"He does. And we will. But it's the best option available given the circumstances, and ultimately you'll have to go along with what the commission decided unless you want to be disqualified entirely."

The implicit threat hangs in the air—cooperate or lose everything.

Neither Aurora nor I respond, because what is there to say?

Richard stands, the movement signaling this particular conversation is over, even if the problems remain unsolved.

"I'll give you two a moment," he says, already heading toward the door. "But we have a press conference in twenty minutes. Get your heads right, because the media's going to be absolutely feral after that display you put on."

He leaves, door closing behind him with a soft click that feels far too gentle for the bombshells he just dropped.

Aurora immediately sags in her chair, all the energy draining out of her like someone pulled a plug.

Her head tips back, eyes closing, and I watch her chest rise and fall with breaths that seem labored.

"You okay?" I ask, keeping my voice soft.

"I'm a bit winded," she admits without opening her eyes. "Must be the suppressants wearing off, combined with the adrenaline crash. Everything feels...fuzzy."

Alarm bells start ringing in my head.

"Do you have your pills?"

Her hand moves to her pocket, patting the small bottle I know she keeps there.

"Yes. I'll take one now?—"

"No." The word comes out sharper than intended, and her eyes snap open to stare at me. "Don't."

We share a look—hers confused, mine determined.

"What?" she asks.

I roll my chair closer, close enough that our knees almost touch, and lower my voice even though we're alone.

"After this press conference, we're going to have a serious talk with the others about pack stuff," I say, choosing each word carefully. "About Elias and apparently Luca and whoever else is in their pack. About what scent matching actually means."

I pause, making sure she's following.

"And you can't keep taking these pills if they're officially your scent matches, Aurora. The chemical suppression is bad enough under normal circumstances, but trying to dampen biologicalbonds that are supposed to be forming?" I shake my head. "That's not sustainable. It's dangerous."