Page 83 of Knot My Sin

Wren chews on her bottom lip, and I can see Shaw’s fingers twitch to pull it free.

“I want to see,” she rasps finally. “Can I?”

Shaw pulls out his phone, opening it to the photos, and hands it to her.

“Baby boy, I don’t know if your stomach will let you look at it,” he says with a small smile. It’s true, Flynn does at times have a sensitive stomach.

Sticking his tongue out at us, he mutters, “It was one time when you were butchering some meat. Damn, Daddy.”

Rolling his eyes, Shaw just shakes his head in amusement. Wren takes a breath before she looks down at the phone, while I can’t breathe as I wait for her judgment of us.

Will she think that we’re dangerous? Will she worry we’re capable of hurting her?

We would never. Not ever again.

“Oh wow,” she whispers as she stares. I notice her eyes grow wide as she even zooms in on certain parts of the photo.

“Which photo did you give her?” I ask Shaw.

“Full bodied to start with,” he grunts.

“Their penises are works of art,” Wren says, her lips splitting into a wide smile.

“Which is the best one?” Amb asks eagerly. “The winner has to get dinner, and we couldn’t decide.”

“I say it’s a draw,” I mutter, knowing my rendition of a flower may have left something to be desired.

“You all did so well,” Wren breathes, eyes wide.

“Was this too much? It was, wasn’t it?” Shaw asks, fidgeting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him nervous like this and it’s adorable.

“No, I think it’s amazing,” she says, shaking her head. Flynn looks a tad queasy, cupping himself as he stares. “I bet their screams were pretty.”

Our jaws drop at her vicious words, while Flynn chuckles as he buries his face in her hair. It’s wild and wavy today, and she looks beautiful.

“They were, but Mark pissed all over me,” I pout. “It just burst out of him like a broken pipe.”

“I suppose it kind of was,” Wren says, giggling. There’s not even a note of hysteria. Her laughter is clean and pure. Taking a cleansing breath, I realize that she’s okay. This was the right call.

“Naughty girl,” Shaw teases her. “There’s more photos. Swipe to the left.”

At the encouragement, she changes the photo, and I move closer to see that it’s one where we lit the hair on their knots on fire. Wren snickers as she changes to the next photo, her smile wide.

“You cut their heads off,” she says in awe. “It looks like it was messy.”

“It tends to be,” Amb says, preening under her attention. God, it’s nice to have her look at us like we hung the damn moon. I would do anything to keep that expression on her face.

“We cut their tongues out first, though,” I tell her proudly. “They were giving Shaw a headache.”

Wren reaches out to link her fingers through Shaw’s, glancing up at him. “How is your head now?”

“All fixed up,” he rasps as he gazes down at her. It’s fucked up, but I have to say, this is the way it should be with her.

“Are there any more?” she asks, swiping to the last photo to find the one where we took a selfie with the decapitated heads at the steel table. “Oh. This one is my favorite.”

“It would be,” Flynn mutters, peeking over her shoulder. “I have to say they do look handsome, despite the blood.”

“Our alphas are gorgeous,” she agrees.

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