Page 224 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Jax

Days blend together at the cabin, each one establishing a routine that feels almost normal if you don’t look too closely at the undercurrents. By our third morning, we’ve fallen into patterns that give structure to our exile—breakfast together, security checks, inventory management, and the small domestic tasks that keep four people functioning in an isolated space.

By mid-afternoon, the constant vigilance begins to wear on all of us. It’s Stone who discovers the collection of board games tucked away in a cabinet beneath the living room bookshelves, his surprised laugh drawing us all to where he kneels on the hardwood floor.

“Look at this,” he says, pulling out dusty boxes of Scrabble, chess, and an ancient-looking Monopoly set. “Ren’s idea of emergency entertainment, I guess.”

Hailey approaches cautiously, her curiosity evident as she peers over Stone’s shoulder. “I’ve never played these before,” she admits quietly, fingers hovering over a deck of cards as if unsure whether she’s allowed to touch.

Finn, who has somehow found a dying plant and has beennursing it back to health at the kitchen window, turns at her words. “Never? Not even as a kid?”

She shakes her head, that familiar shadow crossing her face whenever her past comes up. “My parents, they never bought… No.”

The understatement hangs heavy in the air until Stone breaks it with deliberate casualness. “Well, consider this your education, then.” He grins, pulling out a battered Scrabble box. “Starting with the sacred art of making up words and arguing they’re legitimate.”

“That’s not how Scrabble works,” I interject, but I’m grateful for the distraction.

Stone’s eyebrow lifts in mock challenge. “Says the man who tried to convince us ‘quox’ was a word last time we played.”

“It should be a word,” I defend, remembering that night in our living room, the four of us sprawled across the floor with wine and laughter flowing freely. It feels like a lifetime ago. “It sounds like a word.”

“That’s not how language works either,” Finn points out, but there’s a softness to his voice that’s been absent lately, a brief return to the teasing dynamics we’d once taken for granted.

“We should play,” Hailey suggests suddenly, her voice gaining confidence. When we all look at her. Whenever she speaks, shows any sort of initiative, it’s always a bit surprising. Surprising, but not unwelcome. My gaze travels over her face, noting that she doesn’t look too bad this morning. Her skin is flushed, pre-heat still assaulting her, but she and Finn have been perfect with applying the scent blocker, showering multiple times a day, and even dealing with the heavier waves on their own.

It's top-class work. I should be relieved. A part of me isn’t. A part of me wants them both to be begging and writhing beneath me.

But now isn’t the time for that. They’re both traumatized. They need each other.

My cock can wait.

“I want to learn,” she adds, cheeks warming. “If that’s okay.”

Something shifts in the cabin’s atmosphere—a lightening, a breath collectively released.

“Of course it’s okay.” Finn sets down the plants and moves to join her by the games cabinet. “We’ll start with something easy. Maybe cards?”

Stone shakes his head, already clearing space on the coffee table. “Scrabble. It’s educational.”

“It’s competitive as hell is what it is,” I counter, but I’m already grabbing cushions from the couch to arrange around the table. “Don’t let Stone fool you, Hailey. He’s ruthless.”

“Says the man who made us play Risk until 3 AM because he couldn’t accept defeat.” Stone shakes his head.

Hailey watches this exchange with widening eyes, her gaze darting between us as if trying to reconcile this playful bickering with the tension that has defined our interactions since arriving at the cabin. Beside her, Finn begins explaining the rules of Scrabble, his hands moving expressively as he talks about letter values and word multipliers.

We settle around the coffee table, Hailey and Finn on one side, Stone and I on the other. If Ren was here, he’d be on my left. His absence creates an ache. The familiar ritual of drawing tiles and arranging them on our racks feels almost surreal in our current context.

“Ladies first,” Stone suggests, nodding to Hailey, who stares at her tiles with intense concentration before carefully spelling out “CAT” on the board.

“Perfect,” Finn encourages, helping her count up her points. “See? Three points for C, one for A, one for T.”

Stone follows with “BATCH,” building off her T and utilizing a double-word score. His smile is smug as he counts out eighteen points, though I notice how he’s deliberately chosen a word that’s straightforward and clear, rather than the obscure vocabulary he typically deploys to crush us.

My turn comes, and I find myself studying Hailey rather thanmy tiles. She’s leaning slightly against Finn’s shoulder, her face animated in a way I haven’t seen before, and the contrast between this engaged young woman and the terrified omega who arrived at our door is striking. When Finn whispers something in her ear that makes her smile, the intimacy between them sends a complicated mix of emotions through me—happiness for their connection mingled with a selfish fear of what it might mean for our pack’s future.

“Jax,” Stone prompts, breaking into my thoughts. “Sometime today would be nice.”

I refocus on my tiles, eventually placing “DRIVE” on the board for a decent score. Finn follows with “WHISPER,” utilizing the S from Stone’s play and landing on a triple-word score that puts him firmly in the lead.

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