Page 23 of Knot So Lucky

And because if she ever needed a real pack, if she ever let another Alpha get within striking distance, I’d lose my fucking mind.Actually, legitimately lose it.I’d burn down the world before I gave her up.

I nuzzle deeper, mouth finding the spot just behind her ear—salt, lavender, under all of it a sweetness that’s more addictive than heroin. Her body heat soaks into my skin; she’s so fucking small, it’s ridiculous. I could pin her, break her, protect her from everything, and she’d still fight me with every ounce of will she has.

Even now, she’s half-twisted away from me in her sleep, just enough to say “don’t touch” while her body betrays her by pressing closer.

Classic Aurora.

My cock’s half-hard just from holding her. Not even touching—just from the shape of her, the trust of her sleep, the knowledge that nobody else in the world gets close enough to see her like this.

The thoughts start spiraling—the drugs.

The near-collapse at work, the way her eyes glazed over, the faint sheen of sweat on her upper lip.

She’s running down the clock, burning herself out, and sooner or later the facade won’t hold. Other Alphas will start smelling her—start circling like sharks—and I won’t be able to keep them off her unless I make her mine in a way that’s permanent.

But she’s holding back.

For me.

I know she is—I see it in the way she watches me at track days, the way she’s always first to find me in a crowd, the way she never touches another Alpha unless she’s forced to. She could have a pack—could have five, could have the best, could have anyone in this industry…hell, the world—but she lets me in instead, lets me have this, because she knows I’d go off the rails without her.

Maybe she would, too, but we never talk about it.

Never let the words get close to the bone.

Instead, we do this.

I slide my hand from her waist up under her ribs, palm splayed across her belly, feeling it rise and fall with perfect, even breaths. She’s lost weight—tiny difference, but I notice.She’s not eating enough, probably not drinking enough. I’ll have to remind her tomorrow, maybe order food before she leaves for her shift. I can already picture her huffing at me, calling me a control freak, making all the right noises but eating every bite.

I’m clearly obsessed with her well-being…

Her thigh shifts against my leg, bare skin on mine. The silk of her slip is barely there—an afterthought, nothing compared to the softness underneath. My fingers twitch, wanting to slide higher, grip her under the jaw, make her wake up gasping my name. I don’t…not yet. There’s too much pleasure right now in just watching her trust me with her sleep.

The city outside is a live wire—sirens and hovercabs and the hum of late-night traffic. Up here it’s quiet, muffled, like we’re in a soundproof box. But her breathing is loud, and the echo of her pulse under my hand is the only music I care about.

I think about the first time I realized I wanted her. Not just wanted—needed, like an organ or a limb.

Fourteen, after a school brawl that left us both bleeding on the sidewalk. She’d split my lip, and I’d bent her pinkie back so far it cracked. She spat in my face and told me I’d never beat her, and I remember thinking: I want to pin her down and make her admit it every single day for the rest of my life.

I never grew out of it. Never wanted to.

Now she’s twenty-four and curled up nearly naked in my arms, and I’m still fighting the same war.

If anyone ever found out… if her family or mine ever saw us like this, there’d be blood.Maybe that’s part of the appeal.That deep down, I want to see who would actually try to pry her out of my hands.

They wouldn’t survive.

My chest aches with it—not just the need to fuck, but the need to keep, to belong, to wrap her up in my scent so deep that nobody would ever question who she belonged to. I want everyone on the floor below us to choke on what we’ve built.

But even as I think it, a flicker of real fear gnaws at my backbone.

She’s going to need a pack. Real Heats aren’t safe, not alone, not with just me. Sooner or later, she’ll have to make a decision,and the second she does, everything changes. I try not to think about it, try to focus on the now, on the way her Omega scent is blooming richer every time I breathe her in and how I want to drink it straight from the tap.

I squeeze her tighter, spooning her so hard there’s no space for air, let alone rival Alphas or hungry packs.

She makes a noise—half whimper, half exhale—and I swear to god, my heart actually skips.

She’s mine…for now.