Knotted By The Devilish Alpha Brothers

Chapter 37: Chapter 37: humbled or turned on?

He rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing as he glared at her. The red mark from her forehead was already blooming against his jaw.

”You little psychopath. Did someone drop you on your head as a baby, or is that just the natural shape of your personality?”

Amelia’s face was still flushed, the heat of embarrassment burning her cheeks. But the mortification only sharpened her tongue, honing her words.

”At least my face doesn’t look like it lost a fight with a brick wall and then tried to seduce it afterward. Maybe if you spent less time practicing that creepy half-smile in the mirror, you’d have enough brain cells left to keep your hands to yourself.”

Reid stared at her.

He had never been insulted like that in his life. Not by rivals, not by enemies, not even by his own brothers. For a full three seconds he was too stunned to speak, his mouth slightly open, his eyes didn’t blink.

Amelia stood frozen, suddenly aware of what she had just done. Is he going to punish me now? Is he going to—

Then Reid’s expression smoothed out. The shock drained away, replaced by something colder and far more intentional. His eyes glinted with calculation.

Fine. If she wanted to play this game, I would play it better. I am going to make her fall for me so deeply that when I finally broke her, she would feel more worthless than she ever had before. That would be her lesson.

He looked at her.

The intensity of that stare sent an involuntary shiver through her body—and then, mortifyingly, she felt a fresh trickle of wetness slide down her inner thigh inside her trousers. This’s crazy. That’s actually crazy. I need to get out of here.

She tried not to look down. Failed. Her eyes dropped for half a second and caught the unmistakable outline of his hard-on straining against his pants.

Heat flooded her face all over again. Embarrassment warred with a strange, unwanted spark of pride. Why am I proud of that? I’m getting sick in the head.

Reid followed her gaze, then smiled—slow, wicked, and completely unbothered. ”Huh. Wasn’t aware insults turned me on this much. I’ll take more of that from now on.”

Amelia snatched her bag off the floor, heart hammering, praying he wouldn’t suddenly close the distance again. She edged toward the door, her movements jerky.

Reid didn’t move to stop her. He simply watched, that same smile lingering, his arms crossing over his chest.

”You can leave,” he said mildly. ”But next time, you’ll be the one walking into this room willingly.”

Amelia’s hand tightened on the doorknob. She threw one last line over her shoulder, voice sharp with leftover adrenaline.

”Keep dreaming, you overgrown peacock. The only thing walking in here willingly is your ego, and even that’s starting to look crowded.”

Then she yanked the door open and practically ran down the hallway toward her own room, pulse racing so hard she could feel it in her throat.

The moment she was inside her room, she dropped her bag without care and threw herself face-first onto the bed. A muffled scream tore out of her into the mattress, the sound swallowed by the thick fabric.

She screamed until her throat felt raw, then started lightly hitting her forehead against the bedding in frustrated little thumps until the energy finally drained out of her.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, chest still rising too fast.

Reid’s look flashed through her mind again—the way he had smiled after she insulted him, the calm certainty in his voice when he said she would walk into his room willingly one day. A strange, low fear curled in her stomach. Not the bad kind. The confusing kind.

I’m not going to fall for someone like him. I’m not going to fall for any of them.

Her mind was firm on that. Her body, however, was saying something completely different—and that was the most annoying part of all.

A soft flutter of wings pulled her attention. The silver bird flew from its corner and landed neatly on the bed beside her, its feathers catching the light. Amelia’s expression softened at once. The bandages were gone. It was fully healed.

She sat up, crossed to the tall window, and reluctantly slid it open. Cool air drifted in, carrying the scent of earth and leaves.

”You’re free to leave,” she said quietly. ”I just... hope you’ll come around to visit sometimes.”

The bird didn’t move toward the window. Instead it shuffled closer on the bed and snuggled down into the blanket, tucking its head contentedly. Amelia understood immediately. It didn’t want to leave. A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips.

She walked back and sat beside it.

”Since you’ve decided to stay, it would be nice to give you a proper pet name.” A name rose in her mind as if it had always been there, natural and easy. ”I’ll call you Swifty. Do you like that?”

The bird gave a soft, approving trill.

Amelia’s smile lingered—only for a second.

The door swung open without warning. Skye stepped in, took one look at the scene, and raised an eyebrow. ”Alright, demon-host. Playtime’s over. Time to go get your inner parasites checked before you start levitating the furniture or eating the servants.”