Page 39 of Knot Your Baby

I push out of my bed.

My feet carrying me through our empty house. A big empty house with three alphas, no omega, or babies. Just hollow spaces all around, where love should be.

Thorne’s room is empty, probably at that damn club again. Miller’s light glows under his door, the workaholic reviewing patient files.

I pause at the window, press my forehead against the cool glass and watch the ocean lap at the shore.

Somewhere across the city, Freya’s rocking Stone to sleep.

I’ve watched her, following at a distance when she takes him to the hospital or to the park. Watching her smile as she talks to him. Watching her red hair catching the sunlight, as she bounces her baby, and smiling when she laughs at something her friend Harlow says.

I know Harlow is her friend, and she has a high-profile ice hockey pack.

I’ve used my contacts to find out everything about Freya and who she knows, even the parents who never ever mention their daughter, despite who they are.

But despite how much I know about her, I can’t get over the way she held Stone during those first moments, like he was her entire world.I want that. I want to be a part of it. Part of her life and Stone’s. But the scars on my neck, my chest, my body always stop me.

“You should sleep,” Thorne says behind me.

I don’t turn. “I thought you were out at that club.”

“I haven’t been to the club for nearly a year.” He steps beside me. “I don’t know why. I think work is getting to me.”

“I’ve seen her again.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “Freya. With the baby.”

Thorne sighs. “She’s not your responsibility, Zane. Just because you helped with the birth doesn’t make her or the baby yours.”

If only he could see her like I do. Someone real. Someone who makes the world brighter just by existing. Someone who made me forget about my scars, even if just for one perfect moment when she smiled as she touched my neck despite her being in deep pain.

She tried to soothe me without even realizing.

But Thorne’s already walking away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the endless night ahead.

I shouldn’t be here.

I promised myself to not do this again. Yet, the pull to see her and Stone again was irresistible.

This old apartment block needs some serious renovations. The elevator is out of commission, and the doors are so old and flimsy that breaking in is laughably but scarily too easy.

As I step inside, the scent of her floats around her apartment and presses on me with an almost suffocating weight. But it’s changed. She’s masking it again.

I growl, annoyed at that. Though it certainly doesn’t stop me as I wander through the now familiar space.

I know where I need to avoid the creaks beneath my feet. I’ve done this a few times now. Each step leads me to the same place—her bedroom.

I gently nudge the door open, and a soft whimper pierces the stillness, a forewarning that Stone is on the verge of waking.

I move quietly, careful not to disturb Freya, who needs her rest.

Deep down, I know I shouldn’t be here. That I should slip away before the baby fully awakens and fills the air with cries, but my feet carry me toward the sound before I can second-guess myself.

Just like last night—and the nights before.

Peering into the crib, I find Stone’s tiny face scrunched up in frustration, his little fists flailing in the air just before he cries. “Hey there, son,” I whisper, my heart swelling with warmth as I lean in and reach into the crib, plucking him out with the gentlest of hands.

I rest him against my chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his tiny body as I stare at Freya sleeping peacefully in her nest.

She’s beautiful, even in sleep. Her hair spills across the pillow like a halo. Her eyelashes flutter. I sneak away after I glance at the soft curves of her body that my fingers itch to touch.

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