Page 143 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

I shake my head. His brow furrows, his gaze moving down the hall to Ren’s closed door. “Stone?”

“Mm?”

“Last night…” He hesitates, and I see the alpha in him warring with something softer. “Finn…I thought I was going to have to watch him shatter. But Hailey…” He glances back at the nest, where they’re still tangled together. “She knew exactly what he needed. Somehow she just…caught all his broken pieces and handed them back to him.”

My gaze shifts to our omegas, too. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “Seems like she did.”

He nods, a moment heavy with unsaid things settling between us before he turns and disappears down the hall. His footsteps fade, followed by the distant sound of the shower starting.

I head downstairs and settle into making breakfast, trying to focus on the simple tasks rather than the mingled scents of contentment drifting down from upstairs. The rhythm of chopping fresh fruit, whisking eggs, and brewing coffee helps ground me. Even the sizzle of bacon provides a welcome distraction from thoughts of soft limbs tangled in the nest.

I try not to burn the food. Can’t have Hailey thinking I’m completely useless in the kitchen. There’s something about her—her cautious eyes, her quiet appreciation—that makes me want to prove I can provide more than just protection. I try to cook as well as Finn can, but I fail. The bacon’s slightly too crisp, the eggs not quite as fluffy as when he makes them.

By the time I finish, the sound of the front door closing signals Jax’s departure. I hurry and plate the food. Minutes later, soft footsteps on the stairs make my hands still. Two sets of footsteps. Their scents reach me before they do—Finn’s sage mixing with Hailey’s honey-sweet notes in a way that makes my mouth water. My cock responds immediately and I’m suddenly thankful for the kitchen island blocking the view.

The house has become a minefield of arousal triggers: lingeringscents in the rooms when they linger too long, the couch cushions carrying traces of their sleep-warm skin, the way their pheromones seem to multiply when they’re together. I’ve woken up hard every morning, spent countless cold showers trying to drown out the sweet honey-sage combination that seems to have seeped into the very walls. And the worst thing? I’m pretty sure Jax and Ren are suffering the same while we all try to keep poker faces. I knew this would be hard, but it’s getting harder every single day. The only problem is, our cocks don’t care about all the other stress or bullshit coming our way.

“Something smells amazing,” Finn says as they enter, Hailey half-hidden behind his frame.

I gesture to the island where I’ve set out plates. “Help yourselves.”

They settle at the counter together, shoulders touching. Hailey’s hair is sleep-mussed, falling into her face as she peers at the spread before her. When she reaches for a bowl of berries, her oversized sleeve—one of Finn’s shirts—slips down her arm.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and the simple gratitude in her voice makes something inside me twist.

I busy myself with cleaning up, giving them space even though every alpha instinct screams to be closer. To touch. To provide. To protect. As their combined scents fill the room, I almost break my cock against the cupboard door from spinning around too fast.

“Fuck.”

“Are you alright?” Finn is already rising from his seat.

No, my cock is as hard as a metal pipe and all I can recall is images of you calling my name so sweetly as you took my knot. But I can’t say that. Not in front of Hailey. I don’t want to scare her. Fuck, just thinking of her is putting images of her soft curves in my head. I’m a fucking ass.

“I’m fine.” I grunt. “What are your plans for today?” I keep my tone casual as I wipe down the counter.

Finn swallows a bite of eggs. “Thought I’d teach Hailey someweaving. The therapist said working with my hands would help with the anxiety. It sorta has. Maybe it will help Hailey, too.”

Right, his therapist. The same one that he’s been working with since the accident. The same one that advised us to give him space. Space that turned into distance and a hole in our bond nobody of us knows how to fix. Not even the professionals.

Hailey ducks her head, but I catch her small smile. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“That’s okay.” From the sound of Finn’s voice, I can already tell he’s getting excited. “We’ll start simple.”

I watch them finish breakfast from the corner of my eye, noting how Hailey slowly relaxes, how she leans into Finn when he makes a silly joke about bacon. She’s talking more, too. Unprompted. Meeting my gaze more and more often. She’s almost unrecognizable from the omega I found in that cabin. And that’s all because of Finn.

When they’re done, they migrate to the sitting room where Finn sets up a small lap loom.

I try to stay away. Fuck, I really do. It works somewhat. After bathing the downstairs bathroom in bleach in my efforts to clean, the scent drowns out some of theirs and my cock finally settles down. But the moment I exit the room, the sound of their quiet voices draws me like a magnet. I head back to the kitchen, bringing my laptop with me. I try to focus on my research into this Academy and anyone named ‘Widow’. When that returns nothing, I try to focus on work that needs to be done, but my attention keeps drifting to where they sit on the floor. Hailey’s brow is furrowed in concentration as Finn demonstrates the basic over-under pattern.

“Like this?” she asks, fingers fumbling with the yarn.

“Almost. Here, try—” Finn adjusts her grip, but she keeps dropping the shuttle.

Before I can stop myself, I’m moving into the room. “May I?”

They both look up at me, and something passes between us—memory of those early nights after the accident when I would helpFinn with projects just like this. When touch between us was not as strained.

Hailey nods, and I settle behind her, my legs bracketing hers. She’s so small between my thighs, her back straight with tension.

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