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TThere's something both magical and disturbing about being awake at four in the morning. As I sip my tea and stare blankly at the TV, I inhale the scent from Joshua's shirt I threw on before coming downstairs. The handwritten poem from Owen is still on the coffee table from earlier.

I know Joshua has finally accepted that I'm over Owen, but I also know he's worried about it. I just can't seem to place my own emotions. Reading the poem brings back memories of when he and I first got together at twelve. It was all love letters and poetry passed between us and holding hands wherever we went. We had our first kiss at fourteen.

When I read his stupid attempt at winning me back, I can't help but have a tiny pull at my heartstrings.

But then I remember what he's done.

What I did.

That's the thing, while what he did was unforgivable, life-ruining and endangering, I did something just as bad. I cheated on him. We're both as bad as each other in a way. But he endangered lives; four of them. He Segregated someone, betrayed, and lied to me, and not to mention everything afterwards.

There's no coming back from that. That's all before the little fact that even if I did choose Owen, I would forever feel Joshua because of our tether. I couldn't live like that forever, mainly because I'm in love with Joshua, and I couldn't break him to then feel it tenfold every single day. I don't want to choose someone else over him.

I finish my tea and replace the mug with the note Owen left. I stare at the words one more time before closing my eyes. As I take a deep breath, the scent left on the shirt fills my nose. Joshua's scent: woody, pine trees, the ocean all mixed in. It smells expensive; I remember seeing the designer's name on the bottle and baulking at how much it must've cost. But it's the most precious scent in the world now.

A few months ago, I would've felt sick at the smell, and said that Owen's scent of cheap minty aftershave was the best in the world. But now, just thinking of it makes me think of cheap lies and filthy betrayals. I'd rather he'd have cheated on me because at least there's something to salvage in that, something concrete to argue over and move on from. But this... there's nothing worse than this because the outcomes could be worse than death. At least if he'd had sex with someone else, the worst that could've happened was a pregnancy and an STD. Both are bad, but things that can be dealt with in one way or another.

But we're meeting Sophia in a few hours, his real Fated One. I stare at the documents I brought down with me; the paperwork Owen showed me that he'd paid for. His real card with Sophia's name on it, and the watermark. There's even a receipt in here that's been handwritten by the Knotsman Artist and signed by both him and Owen.

"You okay?" Joshua appears in the doorway.

"Just... can't sleep," I whisper.

"Worried about later, or brooding?"

I sigh and stand up. I put the bits of paper on the table again and face him. "A bit of both?"

"I felt you stir."

I grin. "Physically felt me move from the bed, or are we talking the connection here?"

"A bit of both?" He repeats my words and chuckles. "I got stirred by the connection when you got frustrated and anxious. Then I felt you moved from being the little spoon, so I laid there for a while, letting you have your time. I came down here when I felt you starting to get agitated. I assumed it was about him."

He kisses my forehead when I walk into his arms.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"You don't need to be," he replies. "By the way, the fact you're wearing my shirt is sexy as hell."

I stare down at his deep red shirt. I left the first three buttons undone and the material just grazes below my bum. A giggle escapes my mouth.

"You standing there naked is sexy as hell," I retort.

"This is why we're Fated," he responds. His voice is husky and gruff with sleep, and his stubble tickles my face as he presses soft kisses across my face.

"Thank you, by the way," I say.

"For what?"

"Saving me from everything. For being you. You're my guardian angel, my protector," I admit.

He doesn't respond, but his appreciation vibrates around in my brain. He kisses my lips quickly, but it's so hard I lean back a little.

"Then you know how I feel about you, my angel."

"Hey, there's a new nickname in that, right?" I joke.

"Angel Amelia. I like it," he replies.

"It sounds perfect," I agree.

"We've gotta be up in a few hours," he whispers. "Console?"

I grin, and switch on the console. The bleep of it coming to life is answer enough. I grab a blanket before settling down on the sofa.

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Just like being awake at four in the morning, there's a distinct magical and disturbing mix to sitting down opposite Sophia. When she left the day of her Knot Ceremony, everyone assumed it was to find her Fated One, but it was weird that she left with no word or goodbye. I suppose now I know why; she was Segregated because of Owen.

Either way, seeing her as she sits at the back of the pub is weird. The place is dark, but that's because it's not allowed to serve alcohol for another two hours, and it's a weekday so people are mainly at work or whatever. The perfect place to discuss illegal things without letting her into our home.

Her blonde hair is pulled to the side of her head in a messy ponytail, her makeup is slight, but she carries herself with the elegant class deemed worthy of a thirty-year-old, not a nineteen-year-old. It's strange; she was the complete opposite growing up. She would always wear full makeup, have her hair in a tight bun, wear clothes that showed as much skin as possible.

I sip my drink, letting the bubbles try to wash away the awkwardness as she begins the story, after equally awkward introductions and questions as to why Owen isn't here. I promised her the truth once I knew what happened to her.

"My Knot ceremony went the way I'd heard about, you know? Got my tattoo done, and then got handed my card. Except, well, the card was blank. When I asked what that meant, the Artist told me it meant I was Rejected, which is a subsection of being Segregated. Means I have no Fated One. I get to have the stigma of never being able to live a real life. Forever Segregated to being controlled and pushed out. So, I get to choose who I want to be with, but once that happens, I would have to declare myself to the government that I'm settled, forced to be made infertile—"

"Wait, what? That's a thing?" I demand.

Joshua nods. "My friend once told me about this. If a Rejected person finds someone they want to be with, they have to become infertile. Children produced by Rejected people automatically become Rejected themselves."

"Fuck," I mutter. "Sophia, please tell me you haven't—"

She shakes her head. "No. I haven't found anyone anyway, and even if I had, fuck that. They can control how I live, but they don't get me now. I'm nineteen, I want to live."

"What... can I see your Knot?" I ask.

"Sure," she answers. She rolls up the sleeve of her cardigan and puts her wrist on the table.

From the various things I researched after finding out about Joshua, and the different things he's told me since, I know what I'm looking at. Segregated people who don't have a match – Rejected – get a Knot, but it's different to everyone else. It's a single noose knot. Fitting, really, because they get the death sentence of being Rejected and like a subordinate citizen for the rest of their lives.

I didn't know they were forced into being infertile, though. This piece of news renders Owen's betrayal even deeper than I thought.

Joshua looks at her Knot as well, and I watch his eyes zone in on it. He's noticed something else; I can tell by the intrigue and shock coursing through my brain like a bullet train.

I glance at him, but he's intrigued by her Knot. I squeeze his hand though, and he squeezes back instantly.

"Why the interest?" Sophia asks.

I sigh. "Right... so on my Knot Day, I got given my Knot and this card with Owen's name on it." I put the fake card on the table. "I didn't know it at first, but this is different to everyone else's card. When I started uni, I kept getting these weird feelings around Joshua; I could feel his emotions, sometimes his thoughts run through my head. About two months ago now, we saw each other's Knots. They were the same. Turns out we're Fated. I thought my connection with Owen was being Fated, but it wasn't. It's nowhere near as intense as this. It was all because we grew up together and know each other inside out."

Sophia nods and sips her orange juice. "So... you and Owen... not... you're not Fated after all?"

I shake my head. "Here's why I contacted you. It turns out Owen paid some Artist off to see who he and I were meant to be Fated to. Once he saw it wasn't each other, he paid him off again to have his Knot changed. Mine is how it's meant to be, but he changed his. On his tattoo, you can see how it's severed a little. I have the documents here. He was meant to be Fated to you."

She gasps and chokes a little on her juice while I get the documents for her to look at.

"To me? You know what? I thought for so many years there was something. I crushed on him for the longest time, though there was this strange feeling, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. I knew he was with you, but I just had to ask... this makes sense now."

I pass her the various documents; his card, the copies of the tattoo designs with names and locations, receipts of money paid by Owen, instructions.

"This is your real card," I say and hand her the baby blue card with the typed name and country, the bowline knot as the watermark. 'Owen, England' is typed on there, and her eyes widen as she stares at it.

Joshua's fingers tangle with mine under the table. I suppose he can feel the anticipation flowing through my veins, throbbing in my head, pounding in my chest. That moment at a concert when you're waiting for the main act to come on, and a roadie comes out to check the mic, but everyone gets excited thinking it's the band... it's like that. Except this isn't going to end with me getting a great experience and sore ears afterwards, this is about proving something to Owen, and myself.

"Why... why did he do this?" Sophia asks.

"Honestly, the only thing I can defend him with right now is that he didn't do this with any malicious intent. He did it so he and I could stay together and be Fated. He didn't have the foresight to think about what it would do should people find out," I say.

She nods and stares at the papers one by one. I squeeze Joshua's hand under the table.

"So... not being funny, but why are you telling me this now?" she asks.

I glance beside me. Joshua just nods and gives me a small smile. I don't know why, but this is the bit I'm dreading, more than telling her the truth. Maybe the thought of her saying no to meeting him after he broke her heart multiple times, and now she knows he screwed her over and ruined her life. I wouldn't blame her, to be honest.

"I only found out, like, a week ago. I've been trying to figure this out myself. Owen... is being... difficult. I've broken up with him over it. He doesn't believe me when I say that I can't switch this tether off, he's determined to try and get me back and he's threatened to have me arrested or something for rejecting him. Because our tattoos look the same to someone who doesn't know, it could be easy now to say I have two Fated Ones and can choose. That's what he's going for, now he knows about Joshua. I'm wondering if he meets you, if he can feel the connection, it'll make sense to him, make him see what he's done and back off from me," I explain.

She sighs deeply. "I get it, but from where I'm standing, he's... he's forced me into a life that's so fucking dark, Amelia."

"I know."

We all fall silent. I sip my drink quietly, the only thing I can hear is the hard ice clinking as I sip. Joshua's hand moves onto my thigh, squeezing for support. Though I can absolutely feel the satisfaction when I squeeze both legs closed and clamp down on the desire it tries to trigger.

"I... don't know what to say," Sophia whispers. I notice her flexing her right hand a few times to the side.

I feel Joshua tense up beside me, both in body and in my mind. Something is weird here.

"I guess in a way, you don't have to do anything. The way I see it is... this could be your ticket out. You take the card, this proof and go find him. Show him. If all else fails you can go to the authorities," I say. "It'll get him in a whole heap of trouble."

"That will get us all in trouble," she retorts.

"Sure, but if we all prove that we knew and have tried to do something about it? The worst we'll get is a slap on the wrist, surely? I'm with my Fated One. You're now aware of what happened, we have proof. He's the one that screwed us over!" I sip my drink after speaking, mainly for something to do.

She sighs and stares at her documents again. "Can I keep these?"

"I've taken pictures of them, so sure. I have my card now, so the rest of it is technically yours," I answer.

She puts them in her bag. "I'll meet him. How do you want this to happen?"

I glance at Joshua. He's giving me a small, awkward smile. I can tell he hates this: he just wants this to be over and us to move on from it. But something inside the deep pit of my soul knows Owen won't give up, and until I find something that stops him in his tracks, he'll keep on. This is that thing, I know it.

"Tomorrow, at the coffee shop. He can't escape while he's working, so we'll all go when his shift finishes," I answer.

She nods in agreement, still while flexing that right hand. "I'll see you there. Just message me the time. And... thanks, Amelia."

I assume it's the shock hitting her, because she nods once more and stalks out of the pub without another glance.

"What the hell...?" I mutter.

"Amelia," Joshua whispers.

I look at him. He's got a serious expression, his eyebrows are knitted together, and his eyes don't leave mine.

"What is it?"

"Sophia... I noticed it when she showed us her Knot Art, and the way she flexed her hand. Because I know about it now, it's obvious. She had the mark." He leans in close. "She's a Drifter."

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