Page 30 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

That ache in my chest pulses again. I reach for my neck and stop myself. “Said he had to take a call.”

“Yeah.” Ren’s voice is flat. “A forty-five-minute call that apparently required him to be outside.”

Throughout the afternoon, Stone’s behavior only gets more concerning. He disappears for another “call” around three. Returns smelling like anxiety and something else I can’t place. When our HR manager tries to schedule a meeting about the new hire orientation, Stone practically bites his head off before catching himself and apologizing.

By five, I’ve given up pretending to work. I’m just watching him, cataloging each strange moment. The way he keeps checking his watch. How he’s packed up his desk fifteen minutes earlier than usual, computer already shut down, jacket on.

“Ready?” I ask, stepping out of my office. Stone isn’t one to work late like me and Ren, but he never usually hurries to leave either.

“Yeah,” he says, already heading for the elevator. No casual chat with the staff. No checking in about tomorrow’s schedule. Just…gone. What in the fuck is going on? My brows furrow.

“The Burlington location needs—” Stone starts, voice reaching me over his shoulder.

“I’ll handle it,” I cut in, alpha command just at the edges of my tone before I catch myself. Force my voice softer. But Stone’s already tensed, and Ren’s scent spikes with that familiar bitter note.

Ren grunts. “Walking a fine line there, Jax.” When my gaze meets his, that icy glare doesn’t flinch. His eyes are like pointed ice picks as we pile into the elevator. “God forbid we make a decision without running it past our mighty pack alpha first.” The words drip sarcasm, but there’s something else there. Something that smells like old pain. The strain of maintaining his façade all day seems to finally snap as the elevator doors close, cutting us off from the watching eyes of the betas. And that dark energy? It’s returned. As if the effects of whatever he did earlier have just disappeared in a split second.

“Ren,” Stone warns, but I wave him off.

“No, he’s right.” I lean back, studying them both. My second and my…what? My fighter? The pack’s protector? The one who keeps our darker secrets? “We need to talk about this. All of it.”

“Talk?” Ren’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you. When’s the last time you really talked to Finn? When’s the last time any of us did?”

The words burst out like he’s been holding them back for weeks, not just today. They hit me like a punch. Fuck, it would have been better if he had punched me. Then I’d have an excuse for the rage threatening to sear me from within. The same rage I’m trying my damnedest to control. Because if I fall, we all do. I’m the one who is supposed to be holding all this together.

And he’s right. We’ve all been so busy protecting Finn from our demons that we’ve left him alone with his.

The drive home is worse than this morning. Stone’s leg bounces restlessly in the back seat, his scent a mess of emotions I can’t untangle. And Ren, he’s like a dark cloud hovering over us all. By the time we hit the freeway, the rain’s pouring down hard, as if directly influenced by our moods.

We’re barely in the driveway when Stone’s opening the door, not even waiting for me to fully stop. The rain is pelting down hard, but he’s out and heading for the house before Ren and I can even unbuckle our seatbelts.

Chapter 11

Stone

The rain plasters my shirt to my skin as I burst through the front door, barely managing to kick off my shoes before grabbing them and heading for the stairs. My phone buzzes again—probably that investigator I’ve been talking to all day texting to say he still hasn’t found anything. I ignore it. Can’t deal with him right now. Can’t deal with any of this.

But halfway up the stairs, a familiar scent stops me cold. Sweet omega.Home.Pack. The scent that used to mean everything was right with the world.

“Stone?”

I turn slowly, finding Finn hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. He’s wearing one of Ren’s old shirts, the fabric hanging loose on his frame. The sight holds me still. There was a time when seeing him in our clothes made my chest warm. Now it just reminds me of everything we’ve lost.

“Hey.” My words emerge grittier than I mean them to. Water drips from my hair, creating puddles on the hardwood. “Sorry, just need to change.”

“Oh.” He shifts his weight, fingers playing with the hem of theshirt. “I, um…I made pasta. The kind you like. With the spicy sauce?”

The hopeful note in his voice makes me feel like shit. Deservingly so. When was the last time we shared a meal? Just the two of us? But the omega at the cabin flashes through my mind—how she watched the food like it might be a trap. I need to get back to her.

“Thanks, Finn. I’m not really?—”

“Did you like the chicken yesterday?” he interrupts, taking a small step forward. “I used herbs from the garden…”

Fuck. The chicken I didn’t eat. The dinner I took to the cabin instead, desperate to get some real food into that terrified omega. Guilt twists my gut as I watch hope fade from Finn’s eyes.

“It was good,” I lie, the words tasting like bitter medicine. “Really good.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He knows I’m lying—he always knows. But he nods anyway, retreating toward the kitchen. “Well, there’s pasta in the fridge if you want it later.”

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