Page 80 of Knot Your Baby

“I have to tell you something.” My heart pounds. “About the baby’s father. He—”

I stutter as Miller waits. But before I get the rest of the sentence out the bedroom door bursts open and Harlow storms in. “Freya!”

“Who let you in?”

She puts her hands on her hips. “I told you I was coming over. I brought you my latest attempt at making a cake.”

“Oh God, are you trying to poison everyone?” I clutch my chest dramatically. “Quick, Miller, call the CDC. We have a biological weapon in the house.”

“Keep up with your snark and I release a video of you singing…no not singing, let’s get this right because you sound like a Common Loon at night.”

“Ugh. I can sing.”

“And I can bake.” She tilts her pretty head to one side.

Miller wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “I like the sounds you make.”

Harlow overhears and wiggles her eyebrows. “And I bet he likes your taste, too.”

“Harlow!”

She laughs as she walks out of the room. “Come on, before Carver comes looking for me.”

Downstairs, I take a seat and listen to Thorne having a conversation about Carver being the highest paid hockey star in the country.

Carver is his usual cool self and shrugs his shoulders and says, “I had the best agent.” He drags Harlow onto his knee. “Didn’t I, baby?”

Harlow’s laugh fills the room. “You certainly did.”

Harlow didn’t do a damn thing.

But she always falls on her feet.

I pat Rosie on her head as I sink deeper into the couch, watching Harlow as she perches on Carver’s knee like a graceful goddess.

Her perfect dark hair falls in waves, her skin glows, and her laugh sounds like music. She fits there so naturally, like she was made to be at his side, and the way Carver’s hand possessively spans her waist makes my stomach clench with something that feels too much like envy.

And then Asher grabs her off Carver, and he plonks her on his knee.

Ugh!

Even Zane’s gaze lingers a second too long, making my heart sink. His green eyes track her movements with an intensity that shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

I hate feeling like I do. She’s everything an omega should be. Confident. Beautiful. Magnetic. Caring. It’s no wonder why all the alphas in the house stare at her.

I’m not sure what it means to be an omega. I thought I did. Yes, I can bake. Period. Nothing else.

I feel like I have nothing left to give.

I sigh, glancing around the room as my hand drifts to my postpartum belly. My golden skin is now marked with silvery lines that remind me daily of how much my body has changed. And I hate the stretched skin that feels disgusting under my palm. Not that I regret Stone, but still.

I swallow.Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not here.

“Are you okay?” Thorne asks. His voice is much kinder than it has been of late. Almost caring. If I dare say it.

“Fine.” The word comes out harder than it should.

“Fine?” Harlow’s voice cuts through my spiral, her turquoise eyes sparkling with warmth. She knows how I’m feeling. She always does. “You’re better than fine. You look amazing. It must be that ocean air. Or maybe...” She winks, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Living with your pack agrees with you.”

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