Page 11 of Seen Knot Heard

About to give up, my fingertips brush against something else. A small, plastic bottle, tucked away in a hidden pocket. I pull it out with trembling hands to read the label.

Suppressants. They’re the emergency kind Omegas only take when their Heat arrives early, which means I won’t be able to hold it off from coming. But with these, I can deal with the Heat before Louie discovers me so far gone that I won’t care which Alpha holds me.

Without giving myself time to second-guess, I slip the bottle into my cast, pain flaring at the added pressure. Then I zip the purse back up and return it to the table.

My heart hammers, terrified I’ll be caught, but for the first time today, I feel a flicker of hope.

Chapter Four

Nathaniel

The crisp air of the back garden surrounds me, the earthy scents of damp soil and freshly mown grass filling my nostrils as I fight for calm.

“I told you to manage things better, Nathaniel.” My father’s gruff voice grates through the phone pressed to my ear, each word a stinging barb of criticism. “This accident is costing us time and money we don’t have. The foundation for the fitness center should be underway, not halted for an investigation.”

Walking toward the back gate, I stare toward the shut-down site. The trees mask it from view, but my mind pulls up the image of police tape surrounding the giant hole.

While I wasn’t here during the incident, Dominic told me how Grady had been found lying motionless at the bottom, his leg broken and unconscious. And Chloe had almost ended in the same fate.

Why was he even out there? None of the trails from the garden lead to the future expansion area.

My jaw clenches, and I twist the thick silver ring on my finger, the one Grandad left me. Round and round it goes as I fight to maintain my composure.

“We’ve already approved the timeline,” I say through gritted teeth, annoyed that we keep circling back to this topic every time he calls. “The fitness center and spa aren’t launching until next year. We can still open the resort on time.”

His scoff crackles through the speaker, immediate and dismissive. “You think you can just sit on a project that big? You need to listen to me, son. Push the schedule, get ahead. The longer this takes, the more money you’ll bleed.”

My free hand forms a fist, short nails digging into my palm. The constant pressure, the implication that I’m nothing without his backing, grates on me. How many more of these arguments must I endure? When will anything I say be enough for him?

I exhale slowly, the cool air doing nothing to soothe my rising temper. My pulse pounds a staccato rhythm in my temples, the headache only adding to my anger.

Needing to do something to burn off this energy, I turn toward the house, and my heart leaps when movement in the window draws my attention.

For a fleeting moment, I imagine it’s her, the little Omega who swept through our home, throwing everything on its head before she vanished from our lives. Every so often, I catch her lilac and lily pheromones lingering in the dining room, enticing the Alpha within, even as my rational mind resists.

I tune back in on the call, my father still laying down commands.

“I have this under control,” I interject, steel in my voice. “The resort will open on time, the accident investigation be damned. Trust me to handle it.”

With that, I stab the end button, resisting the urge to fling my phone into the hedge. I slide it into my pocket and take a deep, centering breath. The crisp air fills my lungs but does little to untangle the knot of frustration.

I straighten my quilted jacket and pull back my shoulders. However much I may want to linger out here, I have work to do.

The warmth of the house envelops me as I step inside, holding the faint scent of cookies from last night. Holden has been keeping Quinn busy with baking, which means my construction crew gets a new batch every morning when they arrive.

Depending on how the day goes, sometimes they get another batch to take with them on their way home.

I glimpse my reflection in the hallway mirror, the pressed shirt, the styled hair, the polished veneer of a man in control. But my eyes reveal the strain I’m under, and not just from the call with my father.

My pace quickens, taking me out of view of the cracks forming in my facade. I need a break to rest and solidify the bonds with my packmates, but there’s never any time.

I step into the dining room, the warmth from the fireplace doing little to thaw the chill clinging to my cheeks. My steps slow when I spot Holden and Blake sitting on the bench at the long table, their exhausted faces tinged with excitement.

Holden’s head lifts as I enter, his hazel eyes rimmed in red from too many sleepless nights. “I got into Grady’s laptop.”

I freeze mid-step, my mind going into overdrive.

Should I ask if Grady woke up? Or worry that my bondmate will need a lawyer when Chloe’s agent comes out of his coma to discover we violated his privacy?

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