Page 111 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

“We, uh, got takeout,” Stone says, and there’s something awkward in his voice. “A lot of it.”

My eyes drift to the table, and “a lot” seems like an understatement. Every surface is covered with containers—dishes and smells I don’t even recognize. The scents mingle in the air, making my mouth water despite my anxiety.

Beside me, Finn has gone very still. “You…got takeout?”

“Yeah, well.” Ren moves to a chair. “Figured we’d try something different. There’s Chinese, Thai, Italian…Indian…”

Something passes between them, loaded with meaning I don’t quite understand. But I catch the way Finn slowly drops his hand from my shoulder. I almost whimper with the loss of contact, wanting to immediately press myself into his side, just to be near him once more.

“Please, sit,” Jax gestures to the table and when my gaze flicks a little higher, I notice he’s not looking at me as I though he would. He’s looking at Finn, whose face has lost all emotion. It’s so different from the Finn I’ve become used to that I momentarily forget the three alphas whose mere presence feels like it’s thrumming power through thin air.

They move to sit, each pulling out chairs, and when Stone takes a step toward us before stopping himself, I get the sense he was about to pull out my chair, too.

I swallow hard, not sure what to do. The table is laden with more food than I’ve seen in—ever. Steaming dishes of what looks like pasta, bread that looks like it’s still warm from the oven, colorful vegetables, and some kind of roasted meat that makes my stomach growl.

When I still don’t move, I’m brought back to reality when Finn pulls out a chair for me. I sink into it, hyper-aware of how the alphas arrange themselves around the table, none sitting directlybeside me, and yet it feels like they’re so close I can hardly breathe. Finn takes the seat beside me, and something in my chest loosens just a fraction.

“What would you like?” Stone asks, his deep voice gentle as he indicates the spread before us.

My throat closes up. Fighting past years of conditioning that make my tongue swell and refuse to cooperate. “I—whatever you want to give me is fine, alpha,” I manage, my eyes fixed on my empty plate. But the moment I utter the words, I know I’ve made a horrible mistake when the air in the room goes still. “A-anything would be?—”

“Sweetheart,” the alpha named Ren cuts in. When I dare to glance up, there’s something raw in his expression, something that flickers and disappears so fast I might have imagined it. “Food isn’t meant to be a privilege. It’s not meant to be earned. You’re allowed to eat.”

I flinch at the intensity in his words, but there’s something almost…protective in his vehemence. Like he’s not mad at me, but at whatever made me think I couldn’t want things.

I open my mouth and close it again, words lost to me as I drop my gaze again.

“What Ren means,” Finn says, shooting him a look, “in his completely graceless, raised-by-wolves way, is that you can try anything you like. Everything, if you want.”

“Bold words from someone who ate raw steak tartare on a dare one time,” Ren mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice when he looks at Finn that completely transforms his features. Those glacial eyes are actually capable of warmth.

“That wasonetime,” Finn protests. “And you’re the one who dared me to do it.”

And just like that, it’s like one half of the tension is sucked from the room. Ren laughs, a deep rich sound, eyes twinkling as he looks at Finn, meanwhile Finn rolls his eyes in obvious jest.

The bickering continues as Stone starts opening containers,releasing more fragrant steam into the air. My stomach growls audibly, and I flush with embarrassment.

None of them seem to notice, or if they do, they don’t mention it. I’m glad. If they did, I might have sunk into the floor.

Something in my chest constricts as I watch them, the easy way they move around each other, how even Stone and Jax’s expressions have softened even though their eyes slide my way every now and again. There’s history here, years of shared jokes and memories, of trust built through countless small moments just like this one. They’re not just a pack—they’re family.

The realization makes my breaths still, a hunger deeper than any I’ve felt before filling my chest. I’ve never had this. Never known what it was like to belong somewhere so completely that you could let your guard down, could laugh without checking first if it was allowed. Where affection wasn’t a currency to be bartered or withheld, but something freely given, as natural as breathing.

I watch as Jax reaches over to place something that looks like meat pierced with sharp toothpicks in front of Finn, how Ren’s shoulder brushes against Stone’s as he leans across the table, and for the first time I understand what I’ve been missing all these years. Not just safety or freedom, but this—this intricate dance of people who know each other’s rhythms by heart, who’ve carved out a space where they all fit perfectly together.

And oh, how desperately I want it.

“Here,” Jax says, sliding another container closer. “These are soup dumplings. They’re Finn’s favorite.” There’s something almost hesitant in the way he says it, like he’s offering more than just food.

Finn goes still beside me. “You remembered?”

“‘Course we did,” Stone mumbles, busying himself with opening another container. “You only ordered them every time we got takeout for the first year we were together.”

“Before you started cooking for us instead,” Ren adds, lickingsauce from his fingers before he suddenly goes still, too. When his gaze slides back to Finn, I swear I see regret in his eyes before those glacial pits land on me and go immediately unreadable.

Oh shit.

I dip my head immediately, cognizant of the fact that none of them have mentioned what happened between me and Finn this morning or even how I ran off into the woods. Now that the thought has returned, I become super aware of their every breath.

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