Knot The One They Want

Lorali Pov

I head straight to the master bedroom, the largest in the penthouse. Walter’s room. I fling open the door, wrinkling my nose as his scent assaults me. On a normal day, it would dampen my mood, but not today.

Today, I don’t care. I rush into his walk-in closet, my grin widening as my eyes land on what I’ve been waiting for.

It sits safely in a large chest with a white wood base and a glass top, placed at the center of Walter’s closet like a shrine. I walk slowly toward it, savoring the moment, staring at the eight vases beneath the glass.

Walter’s world. Each one holds a special place in his heart. I’ve cleaned them all countless times, except the one in the center, the delicate purple flowers. I wasn’t even allowed to touch that one. It was the last gift his grandfather gave him before he died. It holds a sacred place in Walter’s heart.

Oh well. Who cares.

I grip the handle and slide the vases out in one swift motion.

I hear Walter gasp from the doorway of the closet. My eyes slowly lift to meet his. "What... what are you doing?" he stammers. I smile, taking hold of one of his delicate vases shaped like a butterfly. This one was a nightmare to clean, with all its tiny corners. I am going to enjoy this.

Joy surges through me as I look Walter in the eye and throw the butterfly-shaped vase to the floor. It shatters into a million pieces. Walter shouts, rushing forward, his hands trembling as he reaches for the broken shards.

"Oh, I’m sorry," I say, faking sincerity, before snatching another vase and hurling it to the floor beside him. "Lorali!" he cries, his eyes filling with tears as he looks from the shattered vases back to me.

"What?" I ask, my voice dripping with mock innocence. I throw two vases to the floor at the same time, the crash echoing through the room. "Did I do something?"

I grab the fifth vase and hurl it toward the cardboard boxes stacked nearby.

The sound of it crushing echoes in the room, filling me with great joy. Walter’s scent of burnt cinnamon spreads everywhere, mingling with my sweet vanilla, the clash of emotions thick in the air. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

"Walter, I’m really sorry," I say, reaching for the sixth vase. I drop it ’accidentally’ near my foot. It breaks, grazing my thigh, but the pain doesn’t faze me.

"Lorali... please stop... please," Walter croaks, tears streaming down his face. He looks pathetically miserable, on his knees, crying over vases. "If only I wasn’t the evil bitch you think I am," I taunt, my voice sharp as I grab hold of the vase with the purple flowers, his most treasured possession, the last gift his grandfather gave him before he died. Irreplaceable.

Walter’s eyes widen in horror as I lift the vase. His breath quickens, his chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm. He clasps his hands together, begging. "Please... please... Lorali... please... please put that vase down... please... it’s the only thing I have left from my grandfather... please... please..." His voice breaks as he crawls closer on his knees, shards of glass cutting into his skin. I know it hurts him, but he doesn’t care. He’s desperate.

The way he begs reminds me of how I used to beg Yurena to stop hitting me during his heat. Ironic, isn’t it, that Walter is near his own heat now?

"You really care for this vase, don’t you?" I question, tilting it in my hands, studying the delicate purple flowers. "I don’t see anything special about it. Just a normal vase. I’m sure you can buy another one with all that money Yurena convinced you I was after." My voice rises, cruel and mocking.

I lift the vase higher, savoring the tension in Walter’s trembling body, his breath hitching, his eyes wide with horror. For a heartbeat, the room holds its breath with him. Then I bring the vase down hard against the glass case.

CRASH!

The sound is deafening, a violent symphony of destruction. The case shatters, shards flying like razors through the air. The vase explodes into fragments, a storm of glittering pieces scattering across the floor.

One jagged shard grazes my cheek, leaving a sting that only fuels my exhilaration. I close my eyes briefly, savoring the chaos, the raw power of ruin, the intoxicating thrill of watching something sacred reduced to dust.

When I look back, Walter is ruined. His eyes are hollow, his tears still flowing, his entire body trembling as if the world has ended.

I chuckle aloud at the sight. Oh, this makes up for the bad day I had yesterday.

I reach for the last vase in the case. Instead of smashing it, I walk carefully across the glittering shards toward him. "Here," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was able to save one. I am truly very sorry. But look on the bright side,we are going to be one pack, and I accept you. So everything will be fine with time."

I place the vase in front of him, setting it atop the broken remains of the others, before straightening and turning away.

On my way out, Keion and Oril rush in, their faces tight with worry. They must have felt Walter’s distress through the bond. They freeze when they see me.

I smile sweetly. "Nice to see you back, Oril. I’ve missed you."

I walk past them, my body buzzing, my chest ready to explode from the sheer amount of happiness flooding me. Of course, I feel the fated bond inside me, tugging, urging me to go back, to comfort Walter, to feel guilty. But this is my body, not the goddess’s. I decide what I want to do. And I want this.

It brings me joy. A light in my messed-up life.

Thank you, Walter. If you hadn’t had the audacity to run your mouth, I might have forgotten how much pleasure this brings me.

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