Page 111 of Knot Your Baby

I peer into the box cautiously. “Should I be worried about poisoning my customers on opening day?”

Harlow rolls her eyes. “Hilarious. For your information, my alphas love my baking now. Don’t you, boys?”

The men exchange subtle glances that speak volumes.

“Absolutely,” Carver says, a little too quickly.

“Delicious,” Asher adds, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“I’m thinking of quitting sports management and opening a bakery in competition with you,” Harlow continues, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “What do you think?”

“I think there’s a reason you manage athletes instead of food,” I retort, but I’m smiling as I say it.

Carver catches my eye and gives me a look that clearly says, “Don’t worry, we would never let that happen.”

“Hey, I’ve improved!” Harlow protests. “I use more oil now. So they’re only slightly less brick-like now.”

"Yummy." I laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she whispers. “But look at you now—fancy bakery owner in the best part of town, pack mother, general badass.”

The door flies open again, and Miller dashes in, slightly out of breath, his arms laden with champagne bottles. “I’m here! I’m not late! Nobody cut any ribbons yet!”

I kiss him on the lips. “No.”

He deposits the bottles on the nearest table, then makes his way back to me, planting another kiss on my lips. “Sorry, traffic was a nightmare.”

Miller then moves to Thorne, kissing Stone’s forehead before giving Thorne a look. They stand side by side, shoulders touching, as they watch Zane and I take our positions for the speech.

I clear my throat, suddenly emotional as I look around at the gathered faces—my pack, my family, my everything.

There’s a commotion at the door, and to my surprise, my parents walk in, followed by my sister with her husbands and children, and my brother Finton.

“Mom,” I whisper. Joy and shock collide within me, creating a tumultuous mix of feelings in my chest. “You came.”

My mother approaches me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world, sweetheart.” She takes my hands in hers. “I’m so proud of you, Freya.”

“Because I have a pack?” I ask, the old insecurity rising despite myself.

“I should’ve realized you’d take after your grandmother. You always were a tough one.”

“I wasn’t, though, was I. I couldn’t cope when Freddie died. And you had to nurse me back to health.”

“Because I’m your mom, Freya. I love you and I’ll do anything for you.” She shakes her head. “And no, it’s not because you now have a pack. It’s because you are who you are. You chose a path I couldn’t. A path I thought was too hard.” She glances at my fathers, then back at me. “I’ve always done the right thing. The expected thing. I love your fathers with all my heart, but I pushed my ideas onto you.”

“It’s okay.”

“There you go again. It’s not okay, Freya. I failed you.” A tear slips down her cheek.

“You never failed me.”

She sighs. “But I do love you, my baby girl, and I’m sorry for letting you doubt it.”

I pull her into a tight hug, my own tears falling freely now. When we part, she wipes her eyes and smiles. “Now, let’s see this bakery of yours.”

With my family and pack gathered around me, I take the ceremonial scissors and cut the ribbon across the entrance. Thecrowd cheers, and Zane unveils the new sign: La Petite Rose, the elegant script catching the morning light.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I begin, my voice shaky with all the emotions swirling inside me. “I’ve dreamed of opening La Petite Rose since I was a little girl. It’s named after my French heritage through my mother, and my English father, James, who always called me his ‘little rose’ when I was a little girl.”

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