Page 51 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Her scent turns bitter with fear, and I respond instinctively. I want to gather her close, to nuzzle and comfort her the way pack does. But she’s not pack. Yes, her scent draws me in a way that’sstrange and, frankly, worrisome, but she’s not Ironwood. So I hold back, knowing touch might make things worse right now.

“Please,” she whispers, and God, the way her voice breaks makes some part of me ache to help her. “I can’t go back there. I won’t.”

“You won’t,” I say firmly, letting my scent project calm and safety. “No one’s going to make you go anywhere. I just…” I run a hand through my hair, gripping the strands. “I don’t understand why Stone didn’t tell us. Why he kept you hidden away in that cabin instead of bringing you here?”

She shrinks in on herself at the mention of Stone, and something protective rises in me. It’s a new sensation. One I’ve never had for anyone outside my alphas. And yet, it doesn’t feel wrong.

Whatever’s going on with Stone, with all of them, I can’t let it hurt her. She’s been hurt enough.

“Look,” I say softly, moving slowly around the counter. “You need rest. A proper bath.” I gesture at her borrowed clothes. “Clean things to wear. I have plenty you can borrow until we figure this out.”

Her eyes widen slightly at the mention of a bath, and I catch a flash of longing in her scent before she suppresses it. When was the last time she had a real bath? The cabin only has that tiny shower, and it’s not plumbed for hot water.

The fact I can scent her emotions so easily is even baffling. That kind of scent-bond, that deep emotional connection, is something that usually only develops between pack members after months or years together. Even other omegas I’ve known for ages remain mostly closed off to me, our natural competitiveness creating barriers between us.

But with her…it’s like those walls don’t exist. Like something in her calls to something in me, raw and instinctive and impossible to ignore. Is it because she’s been trained by this Academy to be open? Submissive. To not guard herself?

“I…” she starts, then stops, biting her lip. “I don’t want to impose. I can stay in the cabin until?—”

“Nope.” I’m already shaking my head. “Impose? Honey, this house is built for a pack. There are five bedrooms upstairs. There’s only one available since the others sleep in theirs.” The words come out more bitter than I want, and I see her flinch. “Sorry. That’s not…I just mean there’s plenty of space. And having you around might be nice.”

At least she’d be someone to talk to instead of the empty rooms, the walls, and the plants in my little garden.

I try not to think about how lonely it’s been. Or how much I’ve missed having someone who understands the way I think, the way I feel. Even if she’s nothing like the polished, competitive omegas I’m used to, there’s something about her that calls to that part of me that needs pack, needs family.

“The alphas…” she starts nervously.

“Won’t be back until tonight,” I finish. “And even then, they won’t hurt you. Whatever’s going on between all of us right now…” I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “This is still a safe place. I promise.”

She studies me for a long moment, and I let her. Let her see the truth in my eyes, in my scent. Finally, her shoulders relax slightly.

“A bath sounds nice,” she admits quietly.

Relief floods through me. “Come on,” I say, gesturing toward the stairs. “The main bathroom has this huge soaking tub that’s basically heaven. And I have some bath bombs that smellah-mazing.”

A little flutter goes through me. A spark of happiness that’s so sudden I almost stumble on the first stair.

As I lead her upstairs, I try not to think about how Stone kept her hidden, about why he didn’t tell us, about what it means for our already strained pack dynamics. Right now, all that matters is taking care of this lost, frightened omega who somehow found her way to us.

And later? Later, I’m going to have some very serious questions for my alpha.

Chapter 17

Hailey

The stairs creak softly under our feet as we climb. They’re beautiful—dark wood polished to a warm sheen, with intricate carvings in the banister that my fingers trace as we ascend.

“Sorry about the mess,” Finn says, though I see nothing out of place. “I usually clean on Thursdays, but today…” He trails off, and that tension returns to his shoulders.

I follow him up the stairs, taking in more photos that line the walls. These seem more personal than those downstairs—candid moments caught in morning light, quiet scenes of domesticity. In one, Finn stands at the stove much like he did earlier, but he’s laughing at something off-camera, spatula raised mid-gesture.

“That one’s awful,” he says, catching my gaze. “Ren loves taking pictures when I’m not looking. Says they’re more real that way.” His voice softens on the alpha’s name; it’s at odds with the earlier pain I heard when he spoke of them.

When we reach the landing, he leads me to the first door, pushing it open to reveal what must be the pack bedroom. The space is massive, with windows spanning one wall and letting in streams of natural light. But what catches my breath is the nest.

Contrary to what I thought, the couch downstairs wasn’t his true nestat all.

The nest before me takes up nearly an entire half of the room—a sprawling creation of cushions, blankets, and pillows, all arranged in a sort of chaotic order. The base looks like a custom-built platform, slightly raised off the floor and curved to create a perfect bowl shape.

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