Page 28 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Maybe I’m scared to know the truth.

Or maybe it’s because I know the truth might not break me, buthim. Our omega that’s watching us through the window. Watching us leave again.

I give Finn a slight wave, and when a moment passes where he doesn’t wave back, something clenches hard in my chest.

But then he barely lifts his hand.

It doesn’t ease that tension gripping my heart.All we want to do is protect you, Finn.

“Traffic’s going to be shit if we don’t leave soon,” Ren says, but there’s no real heat in it. We’re all too tired for heat lately.

When Stone finally pockets his phone and heads toward the SUV, his usual predatory grace is off. Distracted. His scent when he slides into the back seat next to Ren carries notes I can’t quite read.

“Sorry,” he says, the word clipped.

I pull out of the drive, watching him in the rearview. Four years running Iron Fitness together, and I’ve never seen him this tightly wound. Then again, we’re all wound tight these days.

But the silence in the car feels different today. Usually, we’d bediscussing the new location opening in Burlington, or the staff issues at the downtown facility. Instead, Stone’s staring out the window like he’s somewhere else entirely, and Ren’s radiating that low-grade tension he gets when pack bonds feel strained.

“Meeting with the investors first thing this morning,” I say, mostly to break the quiet. “They want to discuss expanding into CrossFit-specific facilities.”

Ren makes a noise of acknowledgment. Stone doesn’t react at all.

The hollow ache in my chest pulses, and I catch myself reaching for the mating mark at my neck. Again. It’s become a tell I hate—this constant need to touch the bond that should be perfect but somehow isn’t. Through the rearview, I see Stone do the same thing, his fingers brushing his collar before he catches himself.

We all do it now. All of us except Ren. But he has reason to be so cold. Trauma does that. Even to an alpha.

“Stone.” I keep my voice level, but there’s enough of an alpha command in it to demand attention. “You good to handle the trainer evaluations today?”

He starts slightly, like I’ve pulled him from somewhere far away. “Yeah. Of course.”

But he’s lying. I can smell it, even over the car’s recycled air. And Stone doesn’t lie to me. Not ever.

Something’s very wrong with my pack, and I don’t know how to fix any of it.

The city crawls past our windows, all steel and glass reaching toward a darkening sky. Usually, I enjoy this drive. It gives us time to sync up before diving into the day’s chaos. But the silence stretches, heavy with things unsaid.

My phone buzzes. A text from Finn in the group chat.

It’s going to rain. Be safe.

Hope you liked the chicken, Stone.

I glance at Stone through the rearview, catching when he winces the moment he reads the message.

“Was it good?” Ren asks, setting the tablet down as he leans back, one hand running through his curly dark hair. Blue eyes shift to the window as he watches the city go by.

Stone doesn’t respond.

I frown slightly. I don’t remember seeing Stone eat anything. Last time I looked, all our dinners were still wrapped in that carefully meticulous way Finn wraps them before putting them in the fridge.

“Was what good?” Stone is staring out the window too, fingers drumming on his knee.

Ren makes a sound in his throat. “The chicken, dumbass.”

Stone shrugs. “It was alright.”

Silence fills the SUV again.

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