Page 26 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Something shatters. I jerk at the sound, heart slamming into my ribs, but don’t dare look up to see what he’s broken. His scent is a storm of emotions I can’t interpret, and a whine slips past my lips even though I try to hold it in my throat.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers, more to himself than to me. Then, louder but gentler: “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one, Alpha.”

“Twenty-one—” He cuts himself off. More controlled breathing. “You were fifteen when they took you?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The sound he makes isn’t quite human. I press back against the cot, unsure if I should present again, if I’ve angered him somehow. But he doesn’t come closer. Instead, his footsteps retreat until I think he must be by the door.

“I need to…” He stops; starts again. “I’m going to step outside for a moment. Just…just a moment. You’re safe. Stay here. Eat more if you can.”

The door opens and closes. Through the walls, I hear what might be another crash, followed by what definitely sounds like a fist hitting something solid.

I clutch his jacket closer, breathing in that pine scent that still somehow speaks of safety, even as confusion and fear make me tremble. Nothing about this makes sense. His anger doesn’t feel directed at me, but I don’t understand why else he would be so affected.

Through the walls, I can hear him moving. Pacing. Twigs snap as he moves. His scent is still turbulent, though the sharp edge of anger has dulled to something heavier. Sadder, maybe.

I should feel relieved he’s outside. Should use this moment to gather my thoughts, plan my next move. But his absence makes me feel strangely untethered. Lost.

The apple sits half-eaten beside me, its sweet scent mingling with the lingering trace of his pine. My stomach cramps, reminding me how long it’s been since I’ve eaten properly. But Widow’s voice whispers in my head about discipline and control.

A bird calls again, closer this time. I flinch, then force myself still. It’s only a bird. You remember those, right, Hailey? Before you were locked up in the Academy’s walls, surrounded by metal and only the sound of other whimpering omegas.

I swallow hard.

The window shows patches of grey sky between the trees. Itmust be early still. Or maybe just overcast. I’ve lost all sense of time since…

Since the transport. Since running. Since…

My breathing slows down as the memories surface. The crash. The other omegas still stuck in that truck. Did they try to run? What happened to Vi? Had anyone followed me? Would they be looking? They must be looking.

Oh God, what if they find me here? What if they hurt him for helping me?

The thought surprises me. I shouldn’t care. He’s an alpha. They’re all the same in the end.

Aren’t they?

His footsteps pace in front of the cabin. I can almost feel his agitation through the walls. Nothing about him fits what I know about alphas. His gentleness. His anger at things that should be normal. The way he keeps asking instead of commanding.

If this is all some elaborate trick…a test…some new form of training…

But why would they bother? I’ve already failed. I ran. Proved myself defective despite six years of…

Through the walls, a phone rings, breaking the tense silence. His footsteps pause, and I hear him answer with a clipped “What?”

A pause. His scent shifts with frustration.

“Now? I’m taking the day off, Jax.” Another pause. “No, I understand, but—” Silence. A twig snaps as he moves. “The quarterly reports can’t wait until—” More silence. “Fine. Yes. Give me a few minutes.”

The call ends with what sounds like him jabbing the screen harder than necessary. His agitation is so high now that it bleeds through the walls as if he was right beside me. I try to even my breaths, but the scent still makes skin prickle. Heavy footsteps pace outside before the door opens again.

His pine scent floods the room, twisted with reluctance andsomething that might be worry. I keep my eyes fixed on the floor as he moves closer, stopping a careful distance away.

“I have to go into the office.” His voice is tight. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but…staying out here with you might cause more problems right now.”

I remain still, waiting. The conflict in his scent makes me want to whine in distress.

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