Page 74 of Knot the One They Want

Warmth blooms in my chest, a fragile flicker of something I refuse to name. They tried. They actually put in effort, for me. It's more than I ever expected, more than I dared hope for. Butit's still nowhere near enough to heal the emotional wounds, even if a heavy duty course of antibiotics and a hospital stay have started to work on the physical.

Lake clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. "There's one more surprise upstairs, if you're up for it," he says, his tone tentative.

Asher glances at him, a silent question in his eyes. "Is it ready?"

Cole nods, a hint of pride in the serious alpha's expression. "It is."

Curiosity prickles along my skin, but before I can ask what they're talking about, Asher sweeps me into his arms. I let out a startled squeak, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck for balance.

"What are you doing?" I demand, my cheeks flushing at the sudden proximity.

He grins down at me, his hold secure and gentle. "You're not going to be walking anywhere until you're fully recovered," he says, his tone firm and leaving no room for argument.

I open my mouth to protest, but the words die on my tongue. It feels... nice, being cared for like this. Being treated like I'm precious, valuable.

Like I matter.

I could get used to this,I think, a traitorous little voice whispering in the back of my mind.

Asher carries me up the stairs, the others trailing behind us. He sets me down outside a room I've never been in before, and I frown in confusion.

"This isn't my room."

He smiles, a touch of nervousness in his eyes. "It is now," he says softly, pushing open the door.

My eyes widen as I take in the massive room, the huge bed piled high with pillows and blankets. It's a mix of my things andnew nesting materials, arranged in the most lavish nest I've ever seen. It looks like something straight out of an omega magazine, all plush fabrics and soothing pastel colors. The bed has four huge posters, draped with flowing, gauzy fabrics, strung up with fairy lights that cast the entire room in an ethereal, soothing glow. It immediately puts me at ease.

The others come up behind me, and Damien quips, "You're not the only one with a knack for interior design."

Emotion swells in my chest, a tidal wave of conflicting feelings. Gratitude, wonder, disbelief. Tears prick at the backs of my eyes, blurring my vision.

They did this for me.

They created a sanctuary, a place where I can feel safe and cherished. It's everything I gave up on a long time ago.

Lake notices my reaction and immediately looks worried, his brow furrowing. "If you don't like anything, we can change it," he says quickly, his tone and tense posture anxious. "We can take you shopping once you're feeling better and redo everything, or have a designer come in if you'd prefer that. We'll do whatever it takes to make you feel at home."

The alphas are all watching me with varying degrees of panic, their expressions ranging from concerned to downright terrified. It's honestly kind of endearing, as angry as I still am with them.

"No, it's not that I don't like it," I manage to choke out, my voice thick with unshed tears. "It's just..."

I trail off, unable to find the words. I don't want to be vulnerable, don't want to admit how much this means to me. How touched I am by their efforts, by this tangible proof they're serious about trying to make things right.

Asher seems to understand my reaction, his eyes softening with empathy. He takes my hand, his touch gentle and reassuring.

I hate the way the tension in my muscles immediately melts away in response. I guess he is one of my scent matches. Not that I really would have noticed before, with how they all avoided me. I resist the urge to lean into his touch. I never realized how touch-starved I was.

"We know this is only a small, inadequate start," he says quietly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "But we hope it's proof that we meant what we said. About making things right, about making sure you know you're welcome here. That you have a home with us, as our omega, for as long as you'll accept us."

His words wash over me, soothing the jagged edges of my battered heart. I know it won't be easy, that trust is a fragile thing, easily broken and hard to rebuild. But looking around at their hopeful, earnest faces, at the nest they've created just for me...

I can't help but feel a little hope.

Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to give them one more tentative chance. To let myself believe, just a little bit, that this time could be different.

Thatwecould be different.

It's not like I have anything to lose.

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