Page 102 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

He tests the water temperature with his wrist, adjusting the taps slightly, but he’s still not looking at me directly. “The white stuff is colloidal oatmeal. It’ll help with any inflammation. And there’s arnica oil for the bruising.”

My throat feels too tight to respond, so I just nod. He must see it in his peripheral vision because he continues, “I’m going to turn around now, okay? So you can get undressed. The water should be deep enough.”

I wait until his back is turned before standing on shaky legs. The borrowed clothes cling to me, stiff with dried sweat and forest debris. Every movement reveals new aches as I peel them off, letting them fall in a heap on the floor. Next are the ripped and torn bandages Stone had so carefully wrapped across my wounds.

The first touch of water nearly undoes me. It’s the perfect temperature—hot enough to ease my muscles but not so hot it stings my various cuts. I sink in slowly, watching the water rise around me, carrying the scent of herbs and flowers.

“I’m in,” I whisper when I’m finally settled, most of my body hidden beneath the cloudy water.

Finn turns back around, and for the first time since I returned, our eyes meet properly. What I see there steals my breath—not anger or disappointment, but something deeper. Pain that makes my chest ache.

He kneels beside the tub. “I’m going to wash your hair, if that’s okay?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. He reaches for a cup from the shelf beside the tub, and I close my eyes as he begins pouringwarm water over my head. His movements are careful, making sure no soap gets in my eyes as he works shampoo through my tangled hair.

“There were leaves,” he says softly, his fingers gentle against my scalp. “And some twigs. But I think I got them all out.”

“Thank you,” I manage, keeping my eyes closed. It’s easier this way—not having to see his face, not having to acknowledge what happened between us. The silence returns as he rinses my hair. But it feels different now. Less oppressive, more…contemplative.

His hands are sure and steady as he works conditioner through the strands, carefully working out knots with his fingers.

Each touch sends sparks of awareness through my body. The gentle scrape of his nails against my scalp makes me want to arch into his hands, to beg for more contact. Heat builds low in my belly, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making embarrassing sounds.

Focus, Hailey. Whatever’s happening to you, focus. Focus and push it away.

“Tilt your head back,” he murmurs, and the low timber of his voice makes something clench deep inside me. When I comply, his fingers trace the curve of my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Even with water surrounding me, I can feel that embarrassing moisture gathering at the center of my thighs. It’s a different consistency. Thicker. I’m suddenly even more grateful for the fact I’m fully submerged.

Through half-closed eyes, I watch Finn’s throat work as he swallows, notice how his breathing has grown slightly uneven. When his thumb accidentally brushes the sensitive spot behind my ear, we both freeze at the small whimper that escapes me.

“Sorry,” he whispers, but his scent spikes with something that makes me want to keen with want. What’s going on with me? What kind of horrible person am I? I should feel vulnerable—naked and exposed while he’s fully dressed—but instead, I feel…safe again. Protected. Even after everything that’s happened.

“The salts should help with the muscle aches,” he says after a while, his voice still neutral. “And there’s some witch hazel in there too, for the cuts. Stone knows a lot about herbal remedies. He…” Finn’s hands falter for just a moment. “He likes taking care of people.”

The unspoken hangs between us—that Stone should be the one doing this, that I’ve disrupted their whole dynamic, that nothing will ever be the same. But Finn’s hands remain gentle as he rinses my hair one last time.

“Keep soaking for a bit,” he says, reaching for a towel to dry his hands. “The herbs need time to work. I’ll just…” He gestures vaguely at the door. “I’ll be right outside. Call if you need anything.”

“Finn,” I whisper, finally opening my eyes. He pauses, hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t turn around. “I?—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off, voice rough. “Not…not yet. Just…let the herbs do their work. We’ll talk after. All of us.”

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling water and the scent of healing herbs. And underneath it all, that persistent heat that burns beneath my skin, unaffected by all the remedies in the world.

Because they can’t heal what’s really wrong with me.

The fact that even now, even after everything, all I can think about is the gentle press of his hands in my hair, and how much I wish they’d lingered.

Finn

The door clicks shut behind me and I lean against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. My hands are shaking—they’ve been shaking since I saw her emerge from the trees, looking like somewild, wounded thing. Like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare.

I should resent her. That’s what a proper omega would do, right? Resent the person who’s thrown their whole life into chaos. Who’s the reason they will lose their alphas forever.

But I can’t.

Gods help me. All I felt when I saw her stumbling across that gravel was relief. Pure, devastating relief that made my knees weak and my insides constrict. She came back. She actually came back.

The sound of water shifting comes through the door, and I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the memory of her kneeling in the gravel. Of Ren’s cold eyes and even colder tone. Of the way she’d trembled under his grip but stayed, anyway.

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