Chapter 48
FORTY-EIGHT
ROGUE
It had happened too fast. Knox was still, body limp, chest not moving.
I shook him.
There was no way he was dead. The thought refused to land.
Fuck…
Ace had never trusted us.
There was a moment after Bella’s party when he stitched Bambi’s wounds and I believed he was on our side. But now I knew he was here for Thistle—no one else.
There was movement around me. Ace was saying something. “You will let him bite you.” The words formed in the air, a command from Ace, but I couldn’t process them.
There was no rise and fall of Knox’s chest.
He was… dead?
I almost let out a laugh.
Impossible.
An hour ago he’d agreed to join the bond and I’d sent him to fucking find her. He had to join. She needed him. I was only half a person, the rest of me still lost somewhere in the years I’d spent wasting away, keeping him chained up with no one to think of but myself.
There was no way I could do this without him.
Not this pack. Not… anything.
My fist was at his shoulder, my knees pressed against the marble. I shook him again, but he was limp.
Dark bruises coloured his neck.
I touched it, but couldn’t find a pulse.
I rubbed my fingers and thumb together. Bad circulation. I couldn’t feel pain, so maybe my nerves were all misfiring. I pressed against his neck again, feeling nothing.
“Knox.”
He didn’t move—didn’t open his eyes or even flinch.
What the hell was going on?
This wasn’t right. Thistle loved him more than anything. I think she loved him more than me. I don’t know… we were scent matched. There was a tether between us—one I cherished, but she’d fallen for him without that.
Finally, something changed.
An offer of a bond.
I could feel it, like a splash of fire in darkness, burning behind my eyelids.
Fuck me. Relief hit my system.
That was him—he was joining.
All of this was just a nightmare. My mind was playing tricks, and I looked up to search for Thistle—she’d be happy.
I needed to see that.
Wanted to see the expression on her face when he offered.
I couldn’t sense Thistle in the bond, not her or Ace.
Maybe…
Oh. I think I might have closed it on my end.
Panic over Knox’s death. But… I was being stupid.
Of course he wasn’t dead.
What I saw when I looked up didn’t fit. A man sat in the armchair my father had once favoured. The bone-coloured mask was on his lap.
Carrion was middle-aged, with a strong jaw and flecks of grey in short hair. Familiar, faintly. As if I’d seen him a few times in my life.
He had Thistle’s hair gripped in his fist as he drew back, blood splashed on his lips from the bite he’d given her.
I blinked, but the reality didn’t fade.
The offer wasn’t Knox’s.
“Why haven’t you accepted?” Carrion’s voice was cold.
“I’m sorry,” Thistle whispered. “I’m… nervous.”
She wasn’t looking back at us. I could hear the tremor in her voice.
“Omega,” Ace’s voice cut into the strange reality, and his hand brushed her back, as if in encouragement.
“Sorry,” she said again. “I-I can do it. I promise. Please try again?”
The man’s lips were pursed, a slight snarl on his face. He dragged her close, and this time, I reacted. A low growl rumbled up my chest as I staggered to my feet.
Slowly, the truth was sinking in—an impossible abyss awaited.
A world without him in it.
But she was scared, and that was enough to force me to move. Before I could reach her, though, Carrion’s grip in her hair loosened.
“Shh.” Thistle pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him back slightly, her voice a whisper I could barely hear. “You came into my house and threatened my pack.”
He fell back against the chair easily, and Thistle gripped his chin, forcing him to look at her. “And for the record,” she added, “you’re way too ugly to join.”
A faint growl rose in his chest, part rage, part panic, but then his eyes rolled back and he went limp.
What happened next was beyond my ability to understand.
Nothing made sense.
The first gunshot snapped me into high alert. The guard behind us dropped, the shot coming from the balcony above. I heard Ace shout something.
I think… I think it was his security team.
They were supposed to be gone, but… well, we weren’t dead yet.
With the guns trained up to the balcony, and Thistle behind Ace, all I could think about was the Misfits.
I remembered the sleepless nights. The bags beneath his eyes. A flickering lighter in the art room, deep into psychosis he couldn’t even process. Even then—when I’d hated him, it had been hard to ignore the way he fought to free just one more from the Ring.
It was why I hadn’t been able to let Vance fight when Bella had come. It wasn’t love, or softness, it was reverence for a fight I could never comprehend, a drive and purpose I hadn’t glimpsed until her—and it was one I envied.
They were Knox’s legacy.
Thistle was with Ace, and nothing else mattered.
I made for the east wing, barrelling through the doors to the Misfits’ quarters to find Vance pointing his weapon at me from the open safe room door.
“Why the fuck aren’t you inside?” I demanded.
“Bambi wouldn’t come!” Vance snapped. “We couldn’t fucking leave her.”
“Then you make her come in.”
I turned, only to see Bambi pressed into a corner of the kitchen, a shaking steak knife pointing between me and Vance. Her cheeks were tear-streaked, her skin ashen.
Ah.
Okay.
“She’s alive,” I told her.
Thistle was.
Knox…
I shoved the thought away.
The relieved sound that shuddered from Bambi shook me soul deep. It was a relief I might never feel.
The knife sagged to the floor, and Vance was across the room in a moment, taking it from her.
“Where’s Knox?” he asked as he hauled her back across the room.
“I…” I shook my head. “It’s fine. We have to make sure there’s none of Carrion’s men left. Go inside and wait until I tell you it’s safe.”
When I got back to the ballroom, though, it was to find the scattered bodies of more of Carrion’s guards, and Thistle and Ace crouching over Knox’s still body.