Page 133 of Knot So Lucky

This is how I want you.

I want to say I held my own, but then I have to acknowledge the others’ intervention or else no way would I have lasted this five-day streak. I did, at first, but by day three it was all I could do to keep up. I still have bruises on my hips, on my ribs, where she held me down.

Still have marks in places nobody but her will ever see.

My brain is short-circuiting.

Even the memory of it is enough to make me hard again, which is a joke because I’m pretty sure I’m running on fumes, a single drop of testosterone trying to hold up the battered flag of my dignity. I’d jerk off right here in the shower if I weren’t ninety percent sure I’d just fall over and drown in the attempt.

Fuck.

I'm getting excited just thinking about it, and I'm way too tired to work myself up and masturbate. My body literally cannot handle another orgasm right now—I'm running on empty, operating purely on adrenaline and the biological imperative to care for my Omega.

My Omega.

The possessive thought settles in my chest with complicated weight.

I rinse the shampoo, letting cold water shock my system into something approaching alertness, and try to focus on the other problem currently making my life complicated.

The bond.

This weird, unprecedented pack bond that's making me feel the others' emotions like they're my own.

It's disorienting as fuck.

One moment I'm fine—tired but functional, dealing with my own exhaustion and satisfaction. The next moment, anger spikes through me that isn't mine, sharp and bitter and tinged with jealousy that makes my Alpha instincts want to fight.

That's Luca.

Has to be Luca, because the anger tastes like an odd mixture of sweet and bitterness—dark chocolate and gunpowder and something metallic that suggests violence barely restrained.

Then there's the calmer presence, steady and analytical, processing information with the kind of methodical precision I associate with Elias.

It feels like sandalwood and logic, grounding in ways that help offset Luca's volatility.

And underneath it all, barely perceptible but definitely there, is Adrian. Quiet observation, careful assessment, the sense of someone watching and cataloging information without revealing their own position.

I don't understand how this bond even happened.

We're not officially bonded in any traditional sense. Aurora didn't bite all of us—she bitme, claimed me first during the heat when her biology demanded she establish pack hierarchy. The claiming mark on my neck still throbs with residual sensation, a constant reminder of teeth and pressure and the moment when everything changed.

But somehow, that single claim triggered a connection among all of us.

Maybe it's because we spent four and a half days in close quarters, scents mixing and pheromones layering until we couldn't tell where one Alpha ended and another began. Or because we all shared Aurora during her heat, taking turns or working together to meet needs that no single Alpha could satisfy alone.

Or could it be my knot matched with her biology in some fundamental way, and when she marked me, it created a conduit that pulled the others in through proximity and shared purpose.

I don't fucking know.

Biology and pack dynamics aren't my area of expertise.

I know cars, racing strategy, and how to push limits until they break.

Omega-Alpha bonding mechanics are above my pay grade.

What Idoknow is that I can feel Luca's anger like a physical presence right now, pulsing through the bond with intensity that suggests he's nearby and pissed about something specific.

Probably about Aurora claiming me first.