Knot The One They Want

Lorali Pov

I did it. I actually did it. I gave Torin a piece of my mind, humbled that irritating little prick. The words still echo in my head, sharp and satisfying, though the aftertaste of them lingers like smoke after a fire, maybe I shouldn’t have exposed myself that much though.

I sit back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, whispering to myself. "It’s over. I said what I needed to say. He deserved it. Every word."

But even as I speak, a hollow ache gnaws at me. Hatred doesn’t erase connection. The bond still burns in my veins, reminding me that no matter how much I despise him, despise them I’ll have to face them again and probably be with them still Oracle or I die. I close my eyes, muttering, "You’ll never fix me, Torin. Never."

The silence of the hospital room presses in, heavy and suffocating. I almost welcome it, until a knock at the door startles me. My eyes snap open. Visiting hours are over. It can’t be Torin again, is it a nurse? "Come in," I say cautiously.

The door opens, and Erin steps inside.

I blink, surprised and equally relieved. "Why are you still here? I thought you left."

He clears his throat, looking sheepish. "I did. I went home. But my crazy friend wasn’t there, so I came back."

I frown, confused. "How are you even able to see me? Visiting hours are over." He laughs softly, leaning against the doorframe. "Perks of owning the hospital. They did not think I was visiting."

Show off. I roll my eyes, though a smile tugs at my lips despite myself. "Of course. I should have guessed."

He steps closer, his gaze gentle. "You look unhappy."

I shake my head quickly. "No. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been." I have to be I just Torin’s heart, had him feel the same I felt that day. I should be over the moon happy. I am over the moon happy.

He smiles knowingly, his eyes warm. "You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?"

I look away, unwilling to admit the truth. I really want to punch that perfect face. Silence stretches between us making the whole interaction awkward until he suddenly blurts out, "Do you like ice cream?"

The question catches me off guard. I blink, then nod slowly. "Yes. I do. I guess."

His grin widens. "Good. I know a place."

Before I can say otherwise, , he gestures for me to follow and I can’t refuse not when he is looking at me so... kindly.

We sneak through the hospital’s quiet halls, our footsteps muffled against the floor. The building feels different at night, less chaos and more of a calm, perhaps it’s just this part of the hospital.

Erin leads me down to the cafeteria, then into the kitchen.

"Are we allowed to be here?" I whisper, glancing around nervously.

"Of course not," he replies cheerfully. "That’s what makes it fun."

He opens the massive freezer, pulling out two tubs of ice cream. We sit on the floor, leaning against the cold metal, spoons in hand. The chill seeps into my back, but the sweetness on my tongue makes me forget everything else.

"This is ridiculous," I laugh, scooping another bite. "But I love it."

"Ridiculous is good," Erin says, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

I sigh, savoring the taste. "I swear, I’d rather be stabbed a thousand times over if it meant I’d get ice cream like this."

His spoon freezes mid‑air. "Wait. You were stabbed?"

I burst out laughing, waving him off. "Don’t look so horrified. It wasn’t that bad."

"Not that bad?" he echoes, incredulous. "Lorali, you’re in a hospital bed because of it."

I shrug, licking my spoon. "I’ve had worse."

He shakes his head, muttering, "You’re unbelievable."

We eat in silence for a while, the cold sweetness soothing something inside me. Finally, I speak, my voice softer. "I have problems, Erin. Big ones. Can I dump my stress on you."

"Yeah, I am a pretty good therapist. Hearing other people’s problems makes me forget about my own."

"Good cause you see...My pack... I’m fated to them. But I think the goddess made a mistake. I don’t get along with my pack, I have suffered because of them and I want to suffer because of it. I do anything and everything to make them suffer, the same way I did even though it hurts me too."

I don’t name anyone. I don’t give details. Just vague truths, enough to lighten the weight pressing on my chest.

Erin listens quietly, his expression thoughtful. Then he says, his tone firm but kind, "The goddess does not make mistakes. But just because she fated you to someone does not mean you have to stay with them. A bond is not a prison. And revenge... revenge will hurt the other person, yes, but it will hurt you the most. Because there goes your life. You’ll waste it trying to inflict pain on others instead of living."

His words hang in the air, heavy but comforting.

I stare at him, forgetting about the chilling ice cream in my hand. "You sound like you’ve thought about this a lot."

He shrugs, smiling faintly. "Maybe I have. Or maybe I just don’t like seeing you unhappy." I laugh, shaking my head. "You’re too good for this world, Erin."

"Or too foolish, my friend says." he counters, grinning.

We joke, we laugh, the ice cream melting between us and eventually, he stands, brushing off his pants. "Come on. Let’s get you back to your room before someone catches us."

"Of course," I murmur, rising from the floor.

We sneak back through the halls, our laughter echoing softly. At my door, he pauses, his hand on the frame. "Goodnight, Lorali," he says gently.

I smile, lifting my hand in a small wave. "Goodnight, Erin."

He walks away, his figure disappearing down the corridor. I watch him go, my heart strangely lighter, though I know the storm is far from over.

Oracle’s POV

The prison cafeteria is loud and the food before me is trash, trash that I have to eat if I’m going to survive in this place.

I never imagined myself here, not one. My parents would be embarrassed. I always thought my mind, my wit, my ability to outthink anyone would keep me safe. But here I am, locked behind bars, waiting for someone to save my ass.

I pace the narrow cell, muttering to myself. "I am innocent. I did not stab Lorali" I mutter again and again, no matter how bad this place gets, I refuse to let this place strip me of my innocence.

"You," my worst enemy in this prison, Max, growls, his voice low and dangerous as he slams his hands on my table. "You’re the reason I’m rotting in here."

He hates me all because I put him in jail years ago, one of my clients’ enemies. I won the case, and he lost everything and ended up with life in prison for good reason.

I straighten my back, forcing calm into my voice. "You are rotting in here because you broke the law. I simply did my job."

The words are a spark to dry tinder and I instantly regret my words as he lunges, fists flying. I try to defend myself, but I’m no fighter. My hands are meant for books, for arguments, not for brawls. His fists crash into me, each blow a reminder of my dumb ass mouth.

I fall back from my seat landing on my back and before I can even get up and gather myself, all the other prisoners I probably put in here join in, laughing as they all stomped on me, hitting me hard. I put up a pathetic fight not landing a single hit.

It takes an eternity before the guards finally intervene, dragging us apart and you’d think, since I was the clear victim of a bunch of angry men who can’t live with their actions, They’d be punished but that was not the case the dumbass guards threw me into solitary confinement.

The cell is small, cold, and empty. No bed, no blanket, no food. Just concrete walls and silence. My body aches, bruises blooming across my skin. My stomach growls, but hunger is nothing compared to the weight of isolation.

Hours pass, maybe days. Time loses meaning. I curl against the wall, shivering, whispering to myself.

"You’ll be free soon."

The door creaks open. A guard steps inside, his face twisted in disdain. He tosses a stack of books onto the floor. They land with a thud, dust rising.

"Here," he sneers. "Read. Maybe it’ll keep your mouth shut. Dumb fool, pissing off the Masintoshes. You’ll be lucky if you make it out alive."

I blink, confused. "The Masintoshes?"

He laughs bitterly. "You don’t even know who you’ve angered. Pathetic." He slams the door shut, leaving me alone again.

"Who are the Masintoshes? I’m here because of Loralai. Are they linked?" I wonder as I crawl to the books, my fingers trembling. The titles blur in the dim light, but one catches my eye: Venomous Bonds: A Study of Fatal Connections.

My breath hitches. Venomous bonds. The words strike something deep inside me. That’s the word Lorali used that day.

I open the book, the pages rough against my fingers. I read. Line after line, paragraph after paragraph. Each word is a revelation that strikes my core.

Venomous bonds are rare, cursed connections formed when a bond is made and then rejected. The rejection poisons the bond, turning it into a wound that festers, a mark that kills slowly. The victim suffers, their body weakening, their spirit decaying. Being away from the alpha or stronger designation that made the bond is fatal.

I trace the words, my heart pounding. I rejected Lorali after marking her, that means she has one. Everything begins to click in my mind, it all makes sense, why Lorali hates me so much, why she did all of this.

The more I read, the more my wounds hurt less. I deserve more pain, this pain is nothing compared to the pain of a venomous bond. I lose myself in the text, devouring every detail.

The book explains the symptoms: weakness, pain, the mark festering like rot. It explains the futility of healing, no medicine can cure it, no prayer can erase it, it can only be paused by cutting the skin the bite was on. The only fix is to make the bond again with love and willing to cancel out the venomous bond.

I close my eyes, the words echoing in my mind. "Venomous. Fatal. Painful."

I. Fucked. Up.