Page 82 of Seen Knot Heard

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I lace our fingers together, bringing her hand up to brush my lips across her knuckles. “Lead the way.”

Some of the tension eases from her frame, and she tugs me out of the apartment to walk down to the next door on the right.

Her hands shake as she fits the key into the lock, trepidation rolling off her in waves.

I stay close as the door swings open, ready to shield her if anyone waits inside. Thankfully, the entryway stands empty.

We step inside, and her pheromones surround me. Years of living within these walls have saturated every surface with her intoxicating scent, and my Alpha roars with possessive desire.

The apartment itself is a cozy haven, a reflection of its quirky, creative occupant. Colorful throw pillows adorn the plush couch, and a well-worn blanket lies draped over the back, beckoning with the promise of snuggly comfort. Bookshelves line the walls, overflowing with novels, reference books, binders, and notebooks.

Farther into the apartment, little touches that scream Chloe catch my attention. A jar of flavored lip gloss on the coffee table, a onesie tossed over a chair, and a framed photo of her grinning alongside a stoic-faced Grady.

But it’s the scent that overwhelms me, that calls to my Alpha. Before I can stop myself, I pull Chloe into my arms, my lips finding hers in a searing kiss that sends electricity crackling through my veins. She melts into me, her soft curves fitting the hard planes of my body.

The world falls away, leaving only her taste, her scent, her warmth. My mate. My Omega.

Reluctant to release her, I pull back. “There we go again.”

“There we go,” she agrees. “Talking is overrated. More kisses, please.”

Even as she says that, though, she scratches her arm, discomfort etched into her delicate features. Her dry skin flakes, no doubt irritated from being wrapped up for so long.

“Before we get in trouble, how about you take a shower, sweetheart?” I brush a stray lock of pink hair from her face. “It might help with the itching. I can pack some of your clothes while you clean up.”

“A shower does sound nice. Not that I disliked Holden helping me in the bath.” Chloe hesitates, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

I silence her with another quick kiss. “Just tell me where your suitcase is.”

She points to the bed, and I spot the corner of a suitcase peeking out from underneath. Chloe retrieves it, then gestures toward the closet. “My clothes are in there. I won’t be long, I promise.”

She gathers a few items and disappears into the bathroom, leaving me by myself in her sanctuary.

I’m alone with her scent, her belongings, and the nearly overwhelming urge to join her beneath the warm spray of the shower.

But I have a task to complete, and I’ll be damned if I let my desires interfere with my duty to protect and care for my mate.

With a deep breath, I flip open the large suitcase, a match to the one already at Homestead, and head into the small, walk-in closet.

A smile spreads over my face at all the onesies hanging from the center bar alongside sweatshirts and sweaters. I flip through them, choosing the most adorable ones to add to the suitcase.

The dresser sits wedged under the hanging bar, and I open the top drawer to discover delicate undergarments. I gather uplace, satin, and cotton in pastel hues of pink, lavender, and baby blue, transferring them to her suitcase.

I recall her adorable embarrassment when I first handled her intimates, back at the cabin after the storm. Her cheeks had flushed the same shade as her hair, and she’d stammered out a protest, insisting she could pack her own things. Now she’s comfortable enough to leave me alone to handle it, and it fills me with pride.

Next come the socks, a whimsical assortment of ankle-length and knee-high styles adorned with polka dots, stripes, and cute animal faces. I chuckle, imagining her padding around the Homestead in these, her tiny feet cozy and warm.

I move on to her shirts and pants, folding each item before placing it in the suitcase, and my mind wanders to the future. To lazy mornings spent cuddling in bed, and quiet evenings reading together by the fire.

Lost in thought, I almost miss the unexpected treasure concealed beneath her pajamas in the bottom drawer. But as I lift out the soft, well-worn flannel, my fingers brush something bumpy and silicone.

Grinning, I push aside the remaining sleepwear to reveal a purple tentacle, its surface textured with undulating ridges and ripples. The infamous dildo.

The creak of the bathroom door sounds, and I straighten, the adult toy still in my hand.

“That shower was heavenly.” Her footsteps come closer. “Thank you so much for suggesting it. I’m a new woman.”

She steps into view, wearing a soft pair of blush pants and a cream T-shirt, her damp hair turning parts of the thin material transparent.

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