Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 31: Chapter 31:little comfort

Amelia held herself rigid, refusing to let the tears fall even as humiliation burned behind her eyes. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"You gave me no information about what you want me to find," she said, voice tight but steady. "I’m doing all of this on my own. Do you really think I want the Mandatory Soul-Sucking Dick Duty with the three of you in front of an audience?"

Enzo’s stare hardened further. Before he could speak, Reid reached out and calmly removed his brother’s hand from her face.

"We’re not the understanding type," Reid said, tone almost light, but it got an edge. "And we seriously don’t care. You’re the one who brought yourself into this mess. Now leave."

Amelia turned and walked out. She kept her steps even, refusing to stumble even though her legs felt unsteady and her vision blurred with unshed tears.

I don’t know if I can keep enduring this and still survive. Well... I won’t. They’re the devils. They don’t give a fuck.

She reached her room, closed the door, and immediately sank to the floor, pressing her back against it. Her hands trembled as she fought the urge to cry. Why would I cry because of these jerks?

Something heavier stirred inside her chest—thick, restless, rising. Outside the window the clouds began to darken, the light draining from the sky in an unnatural way. People in and around paused, confused by the sudden shift.

A soft metallic tock... tock pulled her attention away. The silver bird.

That’s right. It could be hungry again.

She pushed herself up, retrieved the small pack of bird food she had requested, and crossed to the corner where the creature rested. "I’m sorry," she murmured as she poured the seeds into the little bowl. "I bet you’ve been waiting a while."

The bird seemed unfazed. It simply began to eat, it beaks pecking at the seeds.

Amelia wiped her face with the back of her hand and glanced outside again. The clouds were still heavy. Is it about to rain already?

The bird suddenly stopped eating and began flapping its wings in short bursts, as if trying to tell her something. Amelia frowned.

"Is there something wrong with your bed?"

It flapped again. She carefully lifted it. The moment it settled against her, a soft silver glow spread from its feathers. The sensation was warm and strangely soothing. Amelia’s fingers moved almost without thought, stroking the impossibly soft plumage. The heavy pressure in her chest eased. Outside, the dark clouds began to lighten.

She stared at the bird in quiet shock. "What did you just do?"

This was no ordinary bird.

She raised it so its eyes met hers. "Were you trying to make me feel better?" 1

The bird didn’t answer, yet somehow she felt she understood. A quiet certainty settled between them.

"Thank you," she whispered. "That’s... really nice."

She held it closer, voice soft. "A bird like you surely belongs to someone else." She hugged it gently against her chest. "You’re probably just returning the favor because I helped you. I don’t need to think too much about it."

Something quiet and steady stirred in her heart.

At least I have the bird.

She would not keep letting these people get to her—the devils, Jane, Dylan. They would no longer have control over her emotions. Most of her personality had been suppressed for years because she wanted to be perfect for Dylan.

Not anymore.

***

Night settled heavily over the estate like a thick blanket of darkness. The moon was hidden behind clouds, casting no light into Amelia’s room.

Amelia lay in bed, eyes open in the dark, body restless. She turned from one side to the other, then onto her back, then onto her stomach again. The sheets twisted around her legs. Sleep refused to come.

The familiar, relentless tightness had returned—the same insomnia that used to plague her in the Blacksmith Territory whenever stress became too much.

It’s happening again.

At least she had managed to recover some of her belongings from that strange old woman. Including the medicine. The small jar of tablets that had been her salvation during the worst nights.

She pushed the covers aside, crossed the room, and opened the cupboard. The small jar was still there, nestled behind a folded towel. She would need to buy more soon, but she had no cash.

For now, one dose would have to do. She tipped a single tablet into her palm, swallowed it dry, and grimaced at the bitter taste before returning to bed.

She waited.

The drug took effect slowly, creeping through her system like a gentle tide. Her limbs grew heavy. Her thoughts slowed. The edges of the room blurred. Sleep finally claimed her, pulling her down into darkness.

Much later in the night, her body sat up on its own.

Eyes still closed, she rose from the bed and walked to the door. Her movements were fluid, guided by something she couldn’t consciously control. When the handle refused to turn, she simply snapped it with a strength she had never possessed while awake. The broken metal gave way with a soft crack, the sound muffled in the silence of the night.

She stepped into the corridor and began to wander, bare feet silent on the floor. She followed the familiar path that led toward the brothers’ rooms, her body moving with an unerring certainty.

The first door was locked.

The second was locked.

The third opened.

Dean’s room.

Dean was not asleep. He had been lying awake, senses sharp, every nerve alert. The quiet click of his door opening cut through the darkness like a gunshot. In one fluid motion he seized the dagger from beneath his pillow and flung it toward the intruder, his arm snapping forward with lethal precision.

He switched on the light, expecting a body on the floor.

Instead he found Amelia standing in the doorway, eyes closed, the dagger caught cleanly in her hand. Her fingers were wrapped around the blade, the edge pressed against her palm, but there was no blood.

A small, dreamy smile curved her lips.

"My baby wants to play..."

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