Page 61 of Knot Their Safe Haven

"This isn't over," Knox finally said, but he was looking at Alessandro when he said it.

"No," Alessandro agreed. "But your part in it is."

Is this how it’s supposed to be like? To sit back and watch a man fight for his claim for you?

We barely knew each other, with no mark to prove this connection that he’s practically laid his life and resources for, but none of that seemed to matter to him.

All that mattered in this moment…was me.

They left slowly, reluctantly, throwing looks back like they expected me to suddenly remember, to call them back, to end this cruel game.

Adyani was the last to go, pausing at the door.

"I love you," she said quietly. "Whether you remember or not. That doesn't change."

I said nothing, keeping my expression carefully neutral until the door closed behind them.

The room was quiet for a long moment, like pin drop silence as we heard the footsteps fade. I knew these private rooms were probably well insulated or even soundproof for privacy with howluxurious it looked with a glance, so even if they lingered behind, they wouldn’t be able to catch our conversation.

Then Alexis started laughing, slow applause following.

"Oh, that was magnificent," she said, moving to perch on the foot of my bed with casual familiarity. "Absolutely brutal. The Rebel Queen indeed."

I looked at Alessandro, who was studying me with those impossible green eyes.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Your breathing changed during the entire confrontation. You were awake from the moment Knox started yelling." He smiled slightly. "Plus, you squeeze hands when you're concentrating on staying still. You did the same thing during French lessons when you were trying not to react to my deliberately terrible pronunciation."

“B-But I tried to change my breathing so you wouldn’t know,” I huff in vain. "You knew I was faking and played along anyway?"

"Of course,” he makes it seem like this was an expected result or some grand performance he was proud of. “You needed to establish control after everything that's happened. This was your way of taking it back." He leaned back in his chair. "Plus, watching you destroy them was oddly satisfying."

He clearly enjoyed it.

"They think I have amnesia now."

"No," Alexis corrected. "They think you're playing a game. But they can't call you on it without looking like assholes who are harassing a traumatized Omega. It's brilliant, actually."

"It's cruel," I admitted.

"Yes," Alessandro agreed simply. "But so was letting you deteriorate for twenty years while they played it safe thinking you’d be available for them forever."

I looked at the three strangers—pack, they were pack now, legally at least—who'd inserted themselves into my life without invitation.

"So what now?"

"Now," Alessandro said, standing and moving closer, "you decide what you want. The game you just started has multiple possible endings. You can maintain the amnesia, make them work to earn back your recognition. You can dramatically 'remember' at a strategic moment. Or you can drop the pretense entirely and just tell them to fuck off directly."

"All while dying in six months,” I quietly mutter, trying not to acknowledge that looming time bomb now in my orbit.

"Less if you don't accept a pack bond," he said bluntly. Some would probably be offended by his honesty, but I liked when people were direct with me. No dancing around the bush nonsense. "Your body is shutting down, Velvet. It has been for months. The surgery bought time, but without biological intervention?—"

"I need to be claimed." It was obvious.

"You need to be claimed by a pack that actually wants you,” he emphasized, as if reminding me that I’m still in control of this situation and have options. “Not out of obligation, guilt, or medical necessity, but because they choose you." His eyes held mine. "The question is whether you can accept that from strangers, or if you'd rather die than surrender that control."

The weight of it all—the betrayal, the medical reality, the game I'd just started—crashed over me like a wave.