Page 86 of Knot Your Baby

I sigh. “Zane refused to let her stay there because she was hauling the baby up and down six flights of stairs every day.”

“She was what?” His voice lifts. “She never told me.”

“The elevator is broken, but it’s being dealt with. I have the city’s building inspector on speed dial. It should be fixed next week, but she isn’t going back to the apartment.”

Her father looks at her three alphas. “You’re not pressuring her, are you? Freya might come across all bubbly, like she is all sunshine and sparkles, but she hides things. She pretends everything is fine.” He gestures at her again. “Like now. She must have been hiding her feelings or something for this to happen to her again.”

“She was scared to tell me something,” I whisper. “And collapsed right after she did.”

“What did she tell you?” her dad asks.

“First, tell me the name of the restaurant where she worked as a trainee chef,” I ask. I already know the answer and just want him to confirm it.

James reaches for his wallet, pulls out a worn photo. “Le Petit Jardin. Here she is at their spring showcase...” The date shows it was nine years ago.

I look at the young girl. Eighteen years old and I was a year older. The smile on her face is wide and beautiful, like she loves what she does.

“Obviously, she was younger and blonde then. This was probably the happiest she ever was in her life. She was doing something she loved. But it wasn’t long before we lost her brother and when everything changed.”

It was also when her perfume turned my head. When I searched for the smell, not realizing the smell wasn’t a customer, it was the girl who made my dessert.

I slam my hand over my face and for the first time since I watched Zane fighting for his life, tears roll down my cheeks as I sob. “It’s her.”

I’ll never leave her side again. I’ll never let her down. But until those eyes open again, I won’t know if Freya is ready to believe me.

Chapter 25

Freya

The hospital room swimsinto focus as I blink away the fog of medication. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy, but my mind is clearer than it’s been in days. Sunlight filters through half-drawn blinds, casting patterns across the sterile white sheets.

“Hey there.” Thorne’s voice, gentle in a way I’ve never heard before, draws my attention. He sits beside my bed, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he hasn’t left in days.

My baby—our baby—sleeps peacefully in a small hospital crib next to him.

Something’s different.

I look around the room. Zane is sleeping. He is sitting on a chair on the opposite side of my bed, his head resting on the mattress.

“Where’s Miller?” I whisper, not wanting to wake Zane as I turn back to Thorne.

The way he looks at me, his shoulders dropped and with the absence of that cold distant look I’ve grown accustomed to.

“He had to take a call. He’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

His scent wraps around me. It’s strangely comforting and there are no blockers hiding the alpha pheromones or his unique scent that make him mine.

But I don’t have the strength to whine.

“How long was I out?” My voice cracks, my throat feels so sore it feels like I’ve swallowed a knife with a serrated edge.

“Four days.”

I try to sit up, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles. Thorne stands, adjusting the pillows behind my back, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

Confusion muddles my thoughts—why is he being so kind? So attentive?

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