Page 47

KNOX

“Al has been acting weird for the last year, but it’s been really bad the last few months. But for the last week or so, he’s been downright unhinged. I didn’t know why until today,” she says, hissing as I hit a particularly tender spot on her head.

If I ever get my hands on that son of a bitch, I’m going to kill him. I may have done some shitty stuff to Remi since we met her, but I’d never put my hands on her unless it’s to make her feel good.

Remi hasn’t explained everything that took place today at the coffee shop to me, but I can put two and two together. This Al will be getting a visit from Boone, Tripp, and me. I refuse to allow something like this to slide. No one hurts our omega and gets away with it.

Pressing the alcohol-covered Q-Tip to the spot on her head, I cringe when she hisses once more. Her pain makes me want to go crazy and raze the earth to dust. I don’t like seeing her in pain, even pain I cause. If I could take myself out, I would.

As soon as she came barreling through the door, I sent my campaign team home. The first thing I noticed was how small she looked, framed by the harsh lines of the open doorway—her hair plastered to her scalp, rainwater tracing frantic rivulets down her cheeks and neck.

Each ragged breath she drew misted in the chill air of my office, the thin fabric of her shirt clinging to every trembling muscle. She was more shadow than substance, shivering so violently she could barely stand, and in that instant, every instinct in me roared to life.

There was a wild, lost look in her eyes as they darted around the room and finally settled on me.

She looked like she’d run through hell and barely crawled out the other side.

Her lips were pale and parted, and her arms hugged herself as though she could squeeze warmth from her own bones.

The rain hadn’t just soaked her skin but seeped into everything—her posture, her spirit, the way she stood on the threshold as if any moment she might collapse or vanish altogether.

Seeing her like that gutted me. I wanted nothing more than to gather her up, wrap her in every comfort I could offer, and shield her from whatever storm chased her here.

The fierce protectiveness that surged through me was almost blinding, tempered only by the gentleness I know she needs.

All I could think and still think is—she came to me.

She trusts me enough to fall apart in my arms, rain and all.

I know I don’t deserve her trust, and it may be a lapse of judgment on her part, but I will relish this opportunity she’s given to me without realizing it.

The hush in the room deepens, thick as the rain still whispering against the windows.

Then, with a near-silent click, the office door eases open—so slow and gentle that, at first, it hardly registers.

The hinges barely sigh, as if whoever is entering is trying not to disturb the fragile peace that has settled over us.

I sense the shift in the air before I see them, the quiet presence of people who know how to step softly when the world feels like shards beneath your feet.

Tripp slips in first, his steady gaze sweeping the room, instantly softening when it lands on me, red-eyed and raw but clinging to Remi's side.

Boone follows, his broad shoulders filling the doorway for a heartbeat before he steps inside, closing the door with the faintest whisper.

They don’t say a word at first; everything about their movements is careful, considerate, as though they’re entering sacred ground. For a moment, the four of us share the hush, the rain, and the sharp edges of pain and comfort braided together in the lamplight.

I didn’t want us to come together this way. Instead, I wanted Remi to come to us because she wanted us to be her mates.

Ultimately, protecting her is my goal. If she needs us to be her protectors and nothing else, then I’ll protect her until the breath leaves my body.

Remi is it for us. Our shining star in the dead of night. She’s our anchor in the middle of a storm, keeping us from drifting too far into the open ocean.

I never thought when I was growing up that something or someone could mean so much to me. Yet the moment my eyes met hers and I scented her, Remi is the only thing that matters to me. Protecting her, loving her. Being one of the few men who can truly love her for who she is.

She showed us strength that night. A strength that rivals all strengths. It told me that she could and would survive in the world of politics. She’d be a pillar of strength and unwavering support.

As I finish doctoring her head, a rush of anger assaults me all over again. How dare anyone touch our omega, let alone to the point where she bleeds? We may not have been any better, hurting her emotionally, but we’re trying our best to win her back.

“What happened, precious?” Boone asks, coming to a stop in front of Remi and me. He runs his finger softly down her cheek, his expression softening.

I throw away the supplies I used to clean her up. She has a spot on the back of her head from where that bastard pulled her hair. I still don’t know what happened. All I know is the bits and pieces since she stormed into my office an hour or so ago.

“You remember that alpha sitting at the booth the other day?” she asks, to which Boone and Tripp both nod. I, however, look ready to kill because this is the first I’m hearing of this.

“Yeah. I remember,” Tripp says, coming to sit down next to her on the sofa.

“Well, the alpha from the booth plus the one from the nightclub were in Al’s ensuite bathroom, which he has in his office.

I went in there to see what Al needed, and he said something weird that I still don’t get.

But before I could put it together or ask, those two came walking out of his bathroom. Apparently, they’re his pack.”

Tripp and Boone share a loaded look. When they both glance over at me, I’m sure my face is screaming that we’ll be talking about this later. I, for one, do not like being left out of the loop. It seems I’ve been blind to many things that've happened recently.

“What was it that you thought was weird, besides being confronted by a pack you didn’t know Al had?” I ask.

She worries her lip between her teeth, eyes vacant and unseeing. She’s looking through us instead of at us. It’s not a look I’d like to see on our omega.

“He said ‘did’ want to be with his omega all the time, that he thought alphas wanted to be with their omegas all the time.” Her eyes are serious and bothered. “He said, ‘did,’ you guys.”

“You don’t think he ...” I trail off. It’s exactly something he could’ve done. If he can put his hands on Remi, then he could easily do so with his omega. An omega that now one knew his pack had.

Hell, no one even knew that Al had a pack from what Remi is saying.

She fiddles with her hands in her lap, her eyes dropping down to the movement. She’s scared, terrified. The scent permeating off her body makes my nose twitch, and a deep-seated anger I’ve never felt before swirls within my gut.

I’ve been upset before. I’ve even been pissed off. This is something else entirely. This threatens to consume me whole.

Just the thought of what Remi went through completely shatters the alpha inside of me. I failed. I’m supposed to protect her, and I failed her.

I know we’re still trying to get into her good graces so we can mate with her, but that still doesn’t stop my need to protect her. Like Boone and Tripp, we share this crazed obsession with wanting to keep her safe.

Remi draws a ragged breath, then pushes herself up from the sofa, her movements slow and careful, as if every muscle is protesting the effort.

She stands with her arms wrapped tightly around herself at first, then lets them fall, only to clasp her hands together and twist her fingers in a nervous rhythm.

For a moment, she just stands there, eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the rain-painted glass, shoulders hunched as though bracing herself for another storm.

Her voice trembles as she breaks the silence. "Well, I should get out of here. I—I need to go home." The words hang in the air, fragile and uncertain, a quiet admission that she’s reached her limit for the night.

Her gaze flickers to each of us in turn, apology and exhaustion mingling in her eyes, before she looks down, still worrying her hands, waiting for someone to protest or let her go.

And protest I will. There’s no way I’m allowing her to go home where she’ll sit up and worry all night about whether Al will come or not.

I’m sure Al keeps a record of his employees' home addresses. So, he and his pack know where she lays her head down at night. I’m not comfortable letting her go home when she could be at our home being protected.

She may object, but I can’t, in good conscience, send her home when I know she will be terrified.

“No,” I say, coming to my full height. I peer down at her, softening, whispering, “You’re going to come home with us.”

“But--” I cut her off before she can make an excuse. I know she doesn’t want to go home. Call it a hunch. Call it whatever you want, but I know she’s not going to be comfortable being by herself.

I also know she’s not the type of person to put her loved ones in danger, either.

“Ahh, I won’t hear of it, little omega. I know we may not be your favorite people, and we’re trying to rectify that, but I refuse to let you go home where you'll lose sleep worrying. You’re coming home with us, so your three alphas can protect you.”

“My three alphas,” she murmurs in return.

I nod. “That’s right. And we’re wrapped around your delicate little finger.”