Knot The One They Want

Lorali Pov

I am back in my private hospital room, the sterile smell of disinfectant clinging to the air, the faint hum of machines filling the silence. I barely have time to settle into the bed when my phone lights up, vibrating across the table. Arabella. What could she want? Kazair didn’t say anything right.

I answer, already bracing myself.

"Lorali!" Her voice explodes through the speaker, shrill and furious. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve ruined everything. Yurena is in the hospital because of you, Oracle is rotting in jail, and the plan, our plan, is in shambles!" Shoot. She knows, I should have known Kazair would blab.

I press the phone closer to my ear, my jaw tightening. "I had no choice, Yurena was going to tell Torin everything. You think I wanted Yurena in the hospital? You think I wanted Oracle locked up?I needed to go to a hospital and questions would arise about how I got stabbed, I had to put the blame on Oracle."

"Was the really the smartest thing you could come up with," she snaps. "You have less than three weeks before your bond starts acting up and you are going to need the Oracle you threw in jail, have you forgotten that."

"I know," I mumble. I’ve been counting every day till the pain returns in my head. I would be over the moon right now knowing Oracle is suffering in jail but I know what awaits me now that he’s in jail.

Her silence is brief, then she sighs, clearly tired of my recklessness, "You’re reckless. You always have been. And now you have compromised the entire plan and your life."

I lean back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. "Maybe. But I’ve decided something. I’m done forcing plans. I’m going with the flow. Whatever happens, happens. That’s my new plan."

Ella laughs half heartedly. "Going with the flow? Are you trying to die, we won’t be able to help you if you are going with the flow, we will have no structure."

"It’s fine." I sigh back. "I should be doing this on my own anyway."

Her voice sharpens. "Why must you insist on being alone all the time? I thought you were better."

"I am" I say quietly. "I just want to drag all of you down with me, I can see where things are going and I don’t want you guys to get hurt."

The line goes silent for a moment, heavy with tension. Then Arabella spits, "We should have gone with Cleo’s plan and just killed the Spade Pack, at least then we wouldn’t be here today."

"Probabbly, that would have certainly have put an end to all of this," I mutter, my voice low and I hear her huff before the call ends abruptly, the screen going dark. She’s definitely pissed at me and Ella knows how to hold a grudge so she’s probably going to be mad for a couple months.

I drop the phone onto the bed, exhaling slowly. The room feels heavier now, the silence pressing in. I close my eyes, knowing the fight with Arabella has only made things worse.

I slide off the bed and walk over to my window and open it to look at the moon. I know the goddess is real, who else would be making my life this miserable. "Am I giving you a good show?"

Erin Pov

I can’t stop smiling.

We talked.

We actually talked.

I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy, this alive, this completely undone by someone’s presence. Lorali stood so close to me that I could hear the rhythm of her breathing, could see the way her lashes lowered when she laughed, and I swear my heart was pounding so hard against my chest I thought it might break free.

I’m surprised I didn’t faint or stutter, because every word she spoke felt like it was meant to unravel me.

This morning, I hadn’t even wanted to leave the house.

I woke up depressed as usual and weighed down by Torin’s madness, his endless pacing and scribbling, his muttering about conspiracies and blood tests.

One hour of that chaos was enough to drive me out the door. I couldn’t go to the company either, I haven’t visited in weeks, for obvious reasons.

The hospital felt safer, quieter, and maybe, just maybe, I knew I’d find her there. And I did.

Now I’m in my office, with my desk cluttered with papers I haven’t touched, reports I should have read, but none of it matters.

What matters is the canvas propped against the wall, the brushes scattered across the table and the palette smeared with color. I’m painting her. From memory alone.

Every detail comes back to me with startling clarity. The way her brown hair caught the light, strands glinting like threads of gold.

The curve of her mouth when she smiled, hesitant but warm.

The way her eyes seemed to hold both defiance and exhaustion, as if she carried the weight of too many battles but refused to surrender.

I mix the paint carefully, layering shades until I capture the exact depth of her gaze.

Hours slip by unnoticed. The sun sets and stars begin to appear in the sky, but I don’t stop, even when my hands begin shaking I don’t stop. For each stroke is a confession I can’t speak aloud. I’m lost in her, in the memory of her voice, the cadence of her words, the way she made me feel seen even when she wasn’t trying.

When I finally step back, the painting is complete. My breath catches. She’s there, staring back at me from the canvas, alive in color and form.

My cheeks burn, heat rising, and I laugh softly at myself. I’ve really fallen in love with her. At first sight. Shamelessly, recklessly and hopelessly.

I whisper it aloud, the words trembling. "I’ve fallen in love with you, Lorali."

The admission feels both terrifying and liberating. I know how foolish it is. She already has a pack. She belongs to them, bound by ties I can’t break. What right do I have to feel this way? What right do I have to want her?

But then I remember her words.

I move to the window, pushing it open, letting the cool air wash over me. The city stretches out below, lights flickering, cars moving like veins of energy through the streets. I rest my hands on the sill, my heart heavy but full.

I tilt my head back, eyes on the sky, on the pale glow of the moon. "Moon goddess," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Help her. Help Lorali. She’s stronger than anyone I know, but she’s hurting. She’s trapped. She’s fighting battles she shouldn’t have to fight. Watch over her. Protect her."

The words spill out. "I love her. I shouldn’t, but I do. I love her. And if loving her means I have to suffer, then let me suffer. Just keep her safe."

_________/—------------/__________

I didn’t want to come home, but I had no choice. I cannot leave Torin, in his current metal state. Torin has upgraded from the kitchen walls cause now he is writing on the living room walls, scrawling words and symbols that make sense only to him. I fold my arms sighing as I watch him link another line to Arabella Masintosh. Hate is not strong of a word to convey how much he hates that girl.

All he talks about is Arabella. Always Arabella.

He believes she’s linked to all of this. That she turned his pack against his sugarplum, not his mother and that she tried to kill his mother. Yes it is as crazy as it sounds.

Sipping my coffee, I see Torin. He’s pacing, muttering, his movements restless. He looks at the walls then at me, then back at the walls.

"You’re going to run out of space," I say quietly, watching him.

Torin shakes his head, his eyes wild. "No. There’s always more space. Always more walls. I’ll write until they understand. Until everyone sees the truth."

I lean against the doorway, arms crossed. "You’re starting to look crazy, Torin."

He ignores me, his voice rising. "Arabella is the root. She’s the reason Oracle stabbed my omega. She’s the reason everything is falling apart. She’s the one who—"

"Torin," I interrupt, my voice firm. "Why did you send Oracle to jail?"

He stops, turning to me, his expression intense. "Because he tried to keep my sugarplum."

I cringe at the word, the sweetness twisted in his mouth. Out of all nicknames, he had to choose Sugarplum? Really? "Seriously"

"Yes," he insists, his voice trembling. "He tried to kill her, I’m guessing Arabella got to him, while I wasn’t watching ."

I rub my temples, exhaustion creeping in. "Torin, listen to yourself. You sound—"

"Crazy?" he snaps. "Is that what you’re going to say? That I’m crazy? I’m not crazy. And you’ll see once the DNA test’s come in"

I blink, caught off guard. "DNA results?"

"Yes," he says, his voice calmer now, almost serene. " I found blood at the accident scene. It could be my mothers or the culprit."

I step closer, wary. "When are they coming?"

"Tommorow," he whispers, his eyes shining. "One more night, and everything will change."

"Torin," I say slowly, "you can’t keep living like this. You need sleep. You need food. Sine the results are coming out tomorrow, re-"

"I need the results," he interrupts,"I will not sleep until I get them"

I sigh, leaning back against the wall. My stomach growls, my body aching for rest, but I know I won’t get it. Not tonight. Not with Torin like this. Who knows what stupid thing he’ll do when I’m sleeping.

He resumes pacing, muttering under his breath, his words a jumble of names and accusations. Arabella. Oracle. Lorali. His mother.

I watch him, wondering if it’s time. Time to call the mental hospital, time to admit he’s gone too far. But I hesitate. I’ll wait until the results come out before I call him crazy who knows he could be right.

I sit in the corner, my eyes heavy, my body begging for sleep. But I stay awake, half-listening and the other half filled with thoughts of Lorali, when Torin’s alright I’ll tell him about her.