Knox's POV:
I stare down at my glass, the amber whiskey swirling slowly, deliberate circles. Thoughts of that girl creep back in. Her scent, her trembling presence. And I feel that familiar pull twist inside me. I set the knife down beside the glass, the metal catching a shard of light. An omega, no doubt. And a sweet one. The kind that makes the beast stir.
Jack's POV:
Sitting across from the don after that call felt like sitting beside a loaded weapon. Knox's calm was all smoke and danger, his smirk sharp enough to cut through the silence. I clear my throat, leaning back in my chair.
"On a hunt again, boss?" I say, half-teasing, half-testing.
Knox's eyes lift to mine, cold ultramarine, glinting with amusement.
"A hunt?" he murmurs. "Too easy for a hunt." Then, almost casually, "Sebastian."
"What about him?" I ask, though the tone in his voice already tells me I won't like it.
"Lock him up," he says, still smiling faintly. "You'll have the upper hand this time."
I chuckle, shaking my head.
"Too kind of you. Finally letting me play with your toys, huh? What a gentleman."
I stand, straighten my jacket, and head for the door. His scoff follows me out, low, amused, and full of warning.
Knox's POV:
When the door clicks shut, silence returns. I swirl what's left of the whiskey and watch the gold ripple like firelight. Jack's laughter still lingers in the air. I don't mind, he's useful, in his way. But the thought of that girl drifts back again, and something primal coils in my chest. The beast inside me doesn't like waiting. My tail gently twirled the knife, a silent rhythm of patience and warning.