Page 36 of Knot Broken

I’m not sure what I intended to do to stop this car crash from happening, but her dozing against Tex’s chest would do it. Those little snuffling sounds she made before pulling back, bleary-eyed had me smiling.

“C’mon, princess,” I said, nodding to Tex and between us, we carried her out of the kitchen. Grey watched the proceedings with a frown. “Don’t think you’re gonna stay awake long enough to have some water and some meds, so tomorrow will be brutal, but…” We walked into the room that smelled strongest of her to find a bed. Pulling the sheets aside, we placed her down on the mattress. “That’s for future Nadia to worry about.”

“I’m staying,” Tex announced. At Grey’s scowl, he explained. “I’ll sleep on the couch or something, but I’ve gotta tell her how I feel. The last few days have been completely shit. I know I’m supposed to wait, to prove myself worthy, but…” When he gazed down at her, something shifted in my chest, but I had no idea what. “I need her to know what’s going on. If she decides to give me a chance, I’ll spend my entire life proving I’m the right guy for her.”

“We should go.”

Grey turned around and nodded to me, so why wasn’t I moving? I had no place here. Tapping in for sexy times was one thing, but an alpha declaring himself to his mate? Tex didn’t need me for that. I paused in the doorway, staring at the way the moonlight caressed her face before forcing myself to walk outside.

“I get why I’m out here,” I said to Grey as we headed to the car. “My wolf isn’t likely to have a fated mate.” With a hard swallow, I continued. “Probably wouldn’t even be able to tell me if he saw her on the street, but you?” I could read people, because if I didn’t, there was no way to keep my mum safe from my father’s wrath. “What the hell are you doing out here, when your mate is in there?”

Chapter 17

Nadia

I was in hell.

Somehow I’d forgotten to shut the curtains last night so that molten ball of lava they called the sun was boring its way through my eyelids. Rolling over with a groan, it wasn’t sheets I felt pressed against my body, but my work clothes? Opening my eyes a crack, then instantly regretting it, I caught the vague outline of my pants and blouse, but with consciousness came pain.

“Goddess…” I hissed, falling out of bed rather than swinging my legs over the side and then I may or may not have commando crawled over to my bathroom before slamming the door shut. The subsequent darkness was welcome and a little disorientating. Probably because I was lurching drunkenly with every step towards the bathroom sink.

Drunkenly…

Shit.

Christian blathering on about stuff I didn’t care about. Group chats. Stay in the bar. A whole rugby team of hot young university students sweeping me up in their midst to have shots with them because they’d won their game or something. My hand slapped down on the light switch by the mirror. As the light flickered on, I gripped the sink, leaning over just in time for it to illuminate my face. Makeup smeared, eyes bloodshot, I looked a fucking mess.

Because I had a massive hangover.

“Why…?” I whined as I walked over to the shower.

Getting my clothes off had somehow turned into a wrestling match, but in the end I emerged victorious. My head ached so much my teeth ground together as I stepped under the water.

During my shower, it was the usual litany of regret. Never again. Why did I do this to myself? What sacrifices do I need to make to dark gods to stop my head from hurting? At least I wasn’t vomiting. Instead, it was that bone-deep need for something disgustingly greasy that got me towelling myself off.

Only to remember my car was still in the city.

Grey telling me to stay where I was. The three of them walking in, catching me chugging a beer with those rugby guys. Tex carrying me bodily out of the bar. Me telling the whole damn pub about the different alphas. Their silver eyes, watching my every movement as I made a fool out of myself, had me pressing my head against the wall.

The cool tiles were a welcome thing, but painkillers would be better. I dug around in the drawers under the sink, found some, and popped a couple with a mouthful of water from the tap. A pair of comfy sweats on, I padded out into the lounge room to couch rot, when a key turned in my door. I looked around wildly for a weapon, settling for an umbrella sitting propped against the hall table, and I was wielding it like a baseball bat when the door swung open.

To reveal Tex standing there in my doorway, clutching a paper McDonald’s bag.

His eyes went wide, taking in me, the umbrella and my stance, then he held the bag up like it was a shield.

“I brought you some McMuffins for breakfast. After a hard night on the turps, I usually want something greasy to wash it down with.”

“Goddess…” I sighed. “Are all alphas as perfect as you? Because that is exactly what I wanted.” He seemed inordinately pleased by that. “Let me grab you some cash.”

“No need.” The man had become very acquainted with the most intimate parts of me, so why did my whole-body jolt when a hand settled on the base of my spine? Somehow he ended up steering me into my own lounge room. “Now, did you want plates or are we going to eat out of the wrappers like savages?”

“Savages don’t have to do dishes later,” I said, sinking down onto the couch, only for him to sit close enough that our knees touched. “So wrapper it is.”

“Well, I got you one of everything so⁠—”

“Hotcakes!” My hands shot out, but I stopped myself from grabbing the box. “Unless you want them. I mean you saved me from the tender embrace of an entire university rugby team. They were talking karaoke and everything, so if they’re your favourite⁠—?”

“You take them.” The cardboard container was set in front of me, and I took a deep breath in. Usually they were too soft, too sweet, and too doughy, but right now that would soak up any leftover alcohol in my system. When I glanced up at Tex, he grabbed a couple of bacon McMuffins and unwrapped them, forming an impressive stack that was dwarfed by his hands. “That syrup is sickly.”