“Sorry,” he muttered. “You weren’t responding. I wasn’t sure you heard me.”
My head cocked to the side. I was always hyperaware of my surroundings, yet I had been so lost in thought that I’d tuned out everything around me. That almost never happened.
“We’re taking a trip today,” Knox repeated once he had my undivided attention. “Dr. Hampton wants to meet at her office.”
Panic surged.
I didn’t want to leave the safe house. It was safe here. Safe from Marco.
Leave? No!
Where was her office?
My thoughts scattered. I shook my head hard, eyes flicking between the brothers as fear flooded in. My chest tightened and my vision narrowed as my breaths turned quick and shallow.
“Breathe, runt,” Knox said softly as he knelt in front of me, bringing himself level with my eyes. “Shhh, Lena. Everything’s okay. We’ll both be with you.”
Silas watched from across the table, eyes narrowed, his face tight with his usual barely contained rage and frustration.
"I told you we were supposed to give her more notice. She's freaking out," he grumbled.
Knox shot his brother a stern look.
I didn’t want to make Silas mad, but my reactions always did. Desperate to avoid angering him further, I tried to stifle my panic, which only made it worse. Tears fell, and soon the room spun.
But then, a low sound left Knox’s chest, more a rumble than a growl. It was steady, rhythmic, growing louder as it filled the room. Surprisingly, my panic attack dulled, receding little by little until my breathing evened out.
He lifted his hand, holding it where I could see it, then moved it forward until it hovered just inches from my face. I flinched, but he didn’t pull back. The sound deepened, growing louder and more certain. His alpha purr sank inside me, spreading through my body, loosening every rigid muscle.
Then the back of his hand brushed my jaw. His knuckle slid gently along it, and his thumb caught a tear.
The touch was careful, tentative, and instead of fear or pain, it brought unfamiliar comfort.
“Breathe in and out. Good runt. Just like that. I know leaving is frightening," he reassured me. “But we’ll both be with you to protect you. I promise.”
Another promise. From men who had once promised to extract answers with pain.
I closed my eyes, and for the briefest second, I leaned into Knox’s hand. He turned it, his palm fitting where his knuckles had been, and let it travel down the column of my neck, lingering at the hollow where an omega’s scent was strongest.
A beat.
And then I felt that low pulse again, at the apex of my thighs. I was hyperaware of his touch, warm against my skin. His finger slowly circled the sensitive area where my scent bloomed. Part of me wanted to tilt my neck, give him better access, and let him roam.
But fear surged back, thick and suffocating.
Quickly, I pulled away, and he withdrew immediately.
Knox’s smile softened, pride replacing the tension in his posture. “That was so good, Lena,” he said. “I know touch isn't easy for you. Thank you for letting me comfort you.”
His praise landed differently than I expected. It didn’t feel earned through obedience or fear. It felt… steady and affirming.
Then I turned my head and met Silas’s gaze.
The anger he wore so often had vanished, replaced by a different heat. His eyes held mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch, the air between us shifting as his scent deepened. His scarred brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and the unmistakable scent of alpha arousal, threaded through the air.
It should have frightened me. How long had I been conditioned to fear that scent, to brace myself against it, and expect pain to follow?
But from him, it stirred something else.
