Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 15: Chapter 15: strange softness

Dylan’s face drained of color the moment their eyes met—every drop of blood seeming to leave his features in a single, horrified rush. His jaw went slack, his pupils dilated, and his hand released Amelia’s arm as if the contact had suddenly become radioactive.

He stumbled back several paces, putting clear, desperate distance between himself and the approaching figure.

Reid reached her. His hand rose.

Amelia’s eyes squeezed shut on instinct, her body bracing for whatever came next—a slap, a grab, a harsh reminder of her place in this new world she’d been thrust into. Her shoulders hunched, her breath caught in her throat.

Here it comes.

What she felt instead was a soft, almost gentle pat on the top of her head—like a parent comforting a child. The contact was so unexpected with everything she knew about this man, that she froze.

She opened her eyes cautiously.

Reid was no longer looking at her. His gaze had locked onto Dylan with a cold, flat deadness that stripped every trace of charm from his face. Gone was the easy smile, the casual amusement that usually danced in his eyes. What remained was something ancient and merciless—the kind of look that had probably ended lives without a second thought.

Dylan immediately bowed his head, his entire posture collapsing into submission. His shoulders curved inward, his chin dropped to his chest, and his hands hung limp at his sides like a dog showing its belly.

” Alpha Reid.”

The name came out strangled.

”Did I just see you harassing her?” Reid’s voice was calm, but there was a razor edge beneath the surface. ”Did I just watch you harass her?”

Dylan’s mouth opened, closed, then stumbled over the words. ”N-no. I was just catching up. I haven’t seen her in a while, that’s all. We were just—I was just—”

Reid took a single step closer, and Dylan flinched as if he’d been struck.

”I know you’re disappointed,” Reid said. ”I know you’re wondering why we didn’t kill her the way we always do. You probably had a whole perfect plan, didn’t you? A little celebration with your new wife. Tell me, Dylan—did you pour yourself a drink when you thought she was dead?”

Dylan’s face went even paler, if that were possible. ”I—I don’t know what you’re talking about sir.”

”Of course you don’t.” Reid’s smile returned, but it never reached his eyes. It was a predator’s smile. ”But you should know she isn’t getting killed anytime soon. In fact, she’s under our protection now.” He let those words hang in the air. ”So I’ll let you go with a warning, and I’ll only give it once. Never cross paths with Amelia again. If you do, if I even hear that you’ve looked in her direction, your family will be the ones begging for a corpse to bury. Do you understand me?”

Dylan’s head bobbed rapidly, jerking up and down like a marionette with tangled strings. ”Understood. Completely understood. I won’t—I’ll stay away. I promise. You’ll never see me near her again.”

”Good. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you walk away.”

Dylan turned and walked away at once, almost fleeing across the courtyard. His strides were long and unsteady, his shoulders hunched, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Amelia stared after him, something strange and unfamiliar settling in her chest.

Reid’s fingers closed around her hand, it felt warm and firm. She stared down at their joined hands, confusion swirling in her mind like water down a drain.

What is happening? Why is he holding my hand like this? Why did he come for me at all? He could have sent the driver.

He led her toward the sports car without another word.

Kate hovered a few steps away, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. She looked like she wanted to ask a thousand questions but didn’t dare.

”We’ll meet later,” Kate called softly, her voice carrying across the empty courtyard. ”I’ll text you. Please be okay.”

Amelia managed a small wave as Reid opened the passenger door, her hand still trapped in his. She slid into the front seat, the leather cool against her bare legs. The door shut with a solid thud, sealing her inside.

Reid circled around, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine without a word. The car pulled away smoothly, leaving Crescent College behind.

Amelia kept her gaze fixed on the passing streets, watching the familiar buildings give way to unfamiliar ones, her mind churning with unanswered questions.

Why is he the one picking me up? Where is the driver? What just happened back there? Why did he tell Dylan I’m under his protection? What does that even mean?

Reid’s voice broke the quiet. ”Just go with the flow.”

”Huh?” She turned to look at him, her brow furrowed.

He sighed, a sound of exaggerated patience. ”I’ll explain everything when we get back. But for now, you must follow my instructions. When we arrive, you act like a loving wife. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.” His eyes flicked to her briefly, sharp and warning. ”Got it?”

Amelia’s answer came out thin. ”Got it.”

Wife?

The word echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her skull.

Act like a loving wife? What is he talking about? I’m not his wife. I’m his—I’m their—what am I? A mistress? A slave? A possession? And now he wants me to pretend to be something else entirely?

***

The sprawling estate gates opened the moment the car approached, swinging inward with silent efficiency. Reid parked in the circular driveway, stepped out, and walked around to open her door. The smile he wore was pure performance—warm, affectionate, so perfectly crafted it almost looked real.

Amelia placed her hand in his and shivered at the contact. Something about the way he held her made her stomach twist in ways she didn’t want to examine. She followed him inside without speaking.

The moment the doors of the mansion closed behind them, Reid drew her closer against his side, his arm wrapping around her waist.

”Your act starts now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

Amelia wrapped her arm around his, hyper-aware of the steady weight of his hand settling on her waist. The heat of his palm burned through the fabric of her gown, and she could feel every finger splayed against her hip like a brand.

What is going on...what’s happening?

They walked down a quieter hallway. Footsteps approached from the opposite direction.

A woman came into view—tall, striking, carrying herself with the kind of unshakable confidence that belonged to someone who had never been told no and never intended to start. She looked to be in her fifties, silver threading through dark hair that was swept back in an elegant chignon. Her clothing was understated but expensive.

An aura of quiet authority rolled off her so strongly that Amelia’s spine straightened on instinct.

Do not mess with this woman.

When they met in the middle of the corridor, Reid’s arm tightened around Amelia’s waist, pulling her closer still.

”Madame,” he said smoothly, inclining his head with respect. ”This is Amelia. Our soon-to-be wife.”