Page 167 of Knot So Lucky

I can feel his presence without looking—dark chocolate and gunpowder scent mixing with the overwhelming artificialfragrances of the studio. He's been mostly quiet during this press conference, letting me handle the questions directed at me.

But I can sense his growing irritation through the pack bond, a low simmer of protective fury that he's barely containing.

"We're going to take a brief break," the moderator announces, clearly not expecting me to push back so directly. "Fifteen minutes, everyone."

The moment the cameras cut, I'm out of my chair and heading for the green room. Need space to breathe without cameras tracking my every expression, analyzing my every word for content.

The green room is blessedly quiet—just me and a few production assistants who thankfully leave me alone. I grab a bottle of water from the refreshment table, chugging half of it in desperate gulps.

"Rory?"

I turn to find an Omega reporter approaching—someone I vaguely recognize from previous racing coverage. She's dressed impeccably in a form-fitting dress that emphasizes her curves, makeup perfect, every inch the picture of traditional Omega femininity.

"Can I offer some advice?" She doesn't wait for permission, leaning in with false intimacy. "You'd get much better media coverage if you presented more... seductively. More feminine. It's what sells, and it would be better for your brand."

I stare at her, processing the audacity.

Another Omega, someone who should understand the pressure and discrimination we face, is telling me to perform femininity for male consumption. To make myself into a sexual object because that's "what sells."

"No." I keep my voice level despite the rage building in my chest. "I'm not changing how I present myself to cater tomedia expectations or make people more comfortable with my existence."

"But you're representing all Omegas in racing," she presses, apparently not understanding that "no" is a complete sentence. "Don't you think you owe it to?—"

"She doesn't owe anyone shit."

Luca's voice cuts through the conversation like a blade, sharp with barely contained fury.

He appears beside me with a cup of coffee—black, no sugar, exactly how I drink it—and the gesture is so casually intimate that several people in the green room notice.

He leans in close, ostensibly to hand me the coffee, but the movement puts our faces mere inches apart. Close enough that I can see the individual flecks of color in his dark eyes, can smell the intensity of his scent as it wraps around me with possessive certainty.

The tension between us is immediate and electric.

Not aggressive—not exactly. But charged with something that makes the air feel thick, makes my pulse kick up in ways that have nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with the Alpha standing in my space.

The green room goes quiet.

I can feel everyone watching, see the Omega reporter's eyes go wide as she recognizes the dynamic playing out in front of her.

"Five seconds!" someone calls from the doorway. "Back on air in five seconds!"

The moment breaks.

Luca straightens, stepping back to give me space but not before his fingers brush against mine as I take the coffee cup. The touch is brief, deliberate, loaded with meaning I don't have time to unpack.

We return to our seats just as the cameras come back on, settling into position with practiced efficiency.

The second half of the press conference continues much like the first—invasive questions, thinly veiled discrimination, the particular brand of hostility that comes from people who resent having their comfortable worldview challenged.

Then one of the rival drivers chimes in from the video feed. Dante Moretti, because of course it's him, looking smug from whatever remote location he's calling from.

"It's fascinating," Dante drawls, his voice dripping with false civility, "how Thorne's rookie has risen so quickly through the ranks. One has to wonder if there are...special favorsbeing provided. Pack dynamics can create conflicts of interest, after all."

The implication is crystal clear: I'm only here because I'm sleeping with my pack, not because of actual talent or skill.

The moderator latches onto the controversy immediately. "That's an interesting point. Rory, how do you respond to suggestions that your pack affiliation has given you unfair advantages?"

Before I can formulate a response that won't get me sued for defamation, Luca speaks.