Page 33 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

“What’s your name?” I maintain that gentle tone in my voice. No alpha command behind it. Just a simple question that shouldn't require courage to answer.

She hesitates, fingers twisting in the hem of my shirt. “H-Hailey.”

“Hailey.” I let the name settle between us.

Her eyes drop even lower. Some ingrained response that makes my blood boil. What did they do to her in that place?

“Are you cold?” I ask, noticing the slight tremor in her hands. Fuck, I’d left the blanket and pillows. So eager to leave the house before any of my brothers noticed and started asking questions. “I can get you a blanket.”

She shakes her head quickly. Too quickly. She’s lying.

I rise slowly, telegraphing my movements as I retrieve the thin blanket from the cot. Her scent spikes with anxiety as I approach, eyes widening even as she stares at the floor, but she doesn’t try to run. Progress, maybe.

“Here.” I hold it out, then let it fall within her reach when she doesn’t move to take it. “It’s clean. It will help.”

She reaches for it hesitantly, movements so careful it’s like she expects it to be yanked away. When her fingers close around the fabric, she pulls it to her chest with a speed that betrays how badly she wanted it.

“Thank you, Alpha.” The words are mechanical, rehearsed. Everything about her screams of conditioning—from the way she holds herself to how she won’t meet my eyes probably unless I order her to.

I settle back on the floor, giving her space. The rain drums against the roof, filling the silence between us. So many questions crowd my tongue. Where was she being taken? Who was waiting for her? What exactly did they do in that “Academy” that made her so afraid of everything?

But asking would only frighten her more. And right now, she needs to eat.

“The pasta,” I say quietly. “Would you like me to leave while you eat?”

Her scent spikes with…something. Fear? Uncertainty? “I…I don’t…”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” I keep my voice steady. Gentle. “I can stay or go. Your choice.”

For a split second, her gaze darts to me before it flies to the floor, and she makes herself even smaller. It’s like I’ve spoken in tongues. Choice. Such a simple concept, but clearly foreign to her.

“You can eat however you want,” I add, remembering how she’d been with the apple this morning. “Sitting, standing, at the table. Whatever feels right.”

Her fingers clench in the blanket. “The food…” She swallows hard, breath picking up and her entire body freezing the moment she speaks. I didn’t ask a direct question that time and I can see her hesitate. See the moment she waits as if she’s convinced that I will do something crazy like… God. She thinks I’ll strike her.

It takes everything within me to keep my voice level. “It’s alright. Go ahead.”

For a few moments, she doesn’t continue. Those pretty eyes flick to me again before darting back to the floor.

“The food. It’s…for me?”

The question breaks something in my chest. “Yes. All of it.”

“But…” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “It looks…nice. Too nice for…”

For me. The unspoken word hangs between us, making my jaw clench again.

“It’s for you,” I repeat firmly. “As much as you want. However you want to eat it.”

She studies the floor for a long moment, like she’s trying to solve a complex puzzle. Finally, she asks, “Will you…will you stay? Please?”

The ‘please’ catches me off guard. It’s not the mechanical politeness from before. This is real—a genuine request. The first thing she’s actually asked for.

“Of course.” I shift slightly, making myself comfortable against the wall. “Would you like me to get the container for you?”

She shakes her head, unwrapping herself from the blanket with careful movements. The shirt slips again as she stands, revealing more of that scar. It disappears under the fabric, but I catch enoughto recognize the deliberate pattern. Someone marked her. Branded her.

The alpha in me roars for blood, but I force it down. She needs calm right now. Steady. Safe.

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