Page 132 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

“Someone has to be,” Stone mutters, but his lips twitch.

I stare at the shelves surrounding us, overwhelmed by options. Colors, scents, textures—how do people choose? How do they know what they want when want itself feels like such a dangerous thing?

A display of hair accessories catches my eye. Simple things—elastic bands, soft scrunchies, plain clips. Safe choices. Simple choices.

“Those?” Finn asks, noting my interest. “Good idea. Yourhair’s long—you’ll need ways to keep it back.” He steers the cart closer, then steps back. “Go ahead. Pick whatever you like.”

My hand trembles as I reach out. The scrunchies are arranged by color, a rainbow of soft fabrics. Without thinking, I touch a pale blue one that reminds me of the sky.

“That’s perfect.” Finn grins. “What else?”

Emboldened, I select a few more—grey, lavender, a soft cream color. Each choice becomes a little easier, a little more certain.

“Look.” Finn points to another section. “They have matching headbands. Want to try some?”

Before I can answer, a commotion near the front of the store draws Stone’s attention. His posture shifts subtly, alpha protectiveness radiating from every line of his body.

“Just a kid throwing a tantrum,” he reports after a moment, but he stays alert. “We should probably wrap this up soon.”

Finn nods, but his voice remains light. “Just a few more things. Hailey needs proper clothes, and—oh!” His eyes light up. “The nesting section! We can’t forget that.”

I swear I notice Stone going rigid. “Finn…” But he doesn’t say anything else.

Finn turns his smile to Stone, but it feels like there’s something underneath.

“Finn, you don’t have to do that…”

Finn blinks. That smile still pasted on his face. “Of course, I do,” he says, and I’m sure something passes between them. A conversation I can’t read. “That way,” he says, “it’s my choice, too.”

Stone swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, before his shoulders sag.

I feel the mood shift, but Finn is already guiding the cart toward an area filled with soft-looking fabrics and pillows. The scents here are different—calming, designed to appeal to omega instincts, I suppose. Several other omegas browse the displays, some with betas, some with their alphas.

“These are essential,” Finn explains, selecting various items. “Special blankets for nests—see how they’re weighted? Helps with the anxiety. And these pillows are filled with something that responds to body temperature. Much better than regular ones when things get…intense.”

I watch as he fills the cart with things I never knew existed. Things designed specifically for omegas, for our comfort, our needs. The Academy had given us bare minimum supplies—just enough to survive. But this…this is different. This is care.

A young omega nearby is discussing fabric choices with her alpha, their heads bent together intimately. The alpha keeps touching her—little gestures of affection, possession, pride. But there’s no fear in her scent, no tension in her posture. Just…contentment.

“Your alpha is very attentive.”

I startle at the voice. Another omega—older, with silver threading through her dark hair—smiles at me kindly. She gestures to Stone, who is scanning the store.

“I…he’s not…” I stammer, panic rising.

“She’s with me.” Finn steps in smoothly. “We’re redoing the nest.” He squeezes my hand. “Everything’s going to be new.”

Understanding softens the older omega’s expression. “Ah, such an exciting time.” She reaches for a particular blanket. “Try this one, dear. The texture is divine when you’re sensitive.”

My fingers brush the blanket she offers, and a small sound escapes me. The fabric is unlike anything I’ve ever felt—impossibly soft, with a slight weight that seems to sink into my bones.

“That’s the one,” Finn says decisively, adding it to our cart. “Thank you,” he tells the older omega, who beams at us both.

“Of course, dear. We have to look out for each other, don’t we?” She pats my arm gently. “But you have excellent support.” Her eyes flick between Finn and Stone. “Very excellent support.”

It’s only then that I realize she must think Finn is one of my alphas, too. When my head turns to him, he smiles and shrugs, butthere’s something behind his eyes. Something sad that he pushes away as he beams at me.

As the omega moves away, I clutch the edge of the blanket, grounding myself in its texture. The store suddenly feels smaller, closer. Too many scents, too many sounds.

---