Page 160 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

We sit in silence for several minutes, the picnic forgotten. Stone stays beside me, his solid presence a comfort I lean into without hesitation.

“Do you need anything?” Finn asks eventually, his hand still clasped tightly in mine. “Water? To go inside? To talk about it more, or not talk about it at all?”

The simple offer of choices, of agency in how I process this moment, brings fresh tears to my eyes. “Just stay with me,” I request. “All of you. Just…be here.”

“Always,” Stone promises, the single word carrying the weight of absolute certainty.

“As long as you want us,” Finn adds, squeezing my hand.

“Which we hope is forever,” Jax concludes, setting his phone aside to focus fully on our pack circle.

Ren completes the circuit, moving to sit directly in front of me, his arctic blue eyes meeting mine with unwavering directness. “Heath was right about one thing,” he says quietly.“You would have broken him. Because you are stronger than either of them ever understood.”

The unexpected validation—coming from Ren, who measures his words so carefully—loosens something in my chest. A sob escapes me, then another, then I’m crying in earnest. Not the silent tears of shock but deep, wrenching cries that feel like they’re being torn from the very center of my being.

My pack surrounds me immediately, creating a protective circle of warmth and support. No one tries to hush me or hurry the process. They simply hold space for my grief, my relief, my confusion, my release. Allowing the complex emotions to flow through and out of me without judgment or expectation.

I cry until I’m empty, until the storm passes and leaves behind an exhausted clarity. When I finally look up, wiping tear-streaked cheeks with trembling hands, I find four pairs of eyes watching me with identical expressions of patient love.

“Better?” Finn asks gently.

I nod, surprised to discover it’s true. “I think I actually am.”

Chapter 34

Hailey

Sometimes I still wake up expecting to find myself back in that narrow bed at the facility. The sterile walls, the mechanical beep of monitors, the scent of antiseptic—all so vivid in those first moments of consciousness that I have to press my face into the nearest alpha’s skin and breathe in the familiar scent of pack to banish the phantom memories.

But those moments grow rarer now. This morning, I wake surrounded by my pack, sunlight filtering through the curtains we forgot to close last night. Finn curled against my back, Jax’s arm thrown protectively across both of us, Stone’s solid warmth at our feet, Ren’s quiet breathing from where he sleeps plastered against Finn.

This is real. This is my life now. And the monsters who haunted it are gone.

Six weeks have passed since we watched Caldwell and Heath die on that terrible livestream. Six weeks of slowly, cautiously accepting that the threat hanging over us has truly disappeared. Six weeks of healing into something new. Something whole.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Finn murmurs against my shoulder, his voice sleep-rough and warm. “S’too early for thinking.”

I smile, turning in his arms to face him. “Sorry. Just…appreciating the moment.”

His eyes open fully at that, morning clarity replacing drowsiness as he studies my expression. “Good thoughts?”

“Very good,” I confirm, pressing a light kiss to his lips. “The best.”

He hums contentedly, returning the kiss before tucking my head under his chin. “Then you’re forgiven for the thinking.”

Around us, the others begin to stir. Jax first, then Stone. Ren last and most reluctantly. The familiar choreography of our morning begins: shower negotiations (who gets to share with me and Finn), breakfast preparations (Finn insisting that proper coffee requires patience as Jax impatiently watches the pour-over drip), clothing decisions (Stone selecting identical Henleys from his wardrobe while the rest of us tease him about his limited palette).

“We need to go shopping,” Finn announces over breakfast, eyeing Stone’s outfit with exaggerated disappointment. “Stone needs a color intervention, and I need those new copper mixing bowls that just came out.”

“I don’t need more clothes,” Stone protests mildly, unbothered by the criticism. “I like my clothes.”

“We could all use a day out,” Jax interjects before the friendly bickering can escalate. “It’s been too long since we’ve done something normal together.”

“Define ‘normal,’” Ren drawls, nursing his second coffee with the intensity of someone still half-asleep. “Because shopping with Finn is many things, but ‘normal’ isn’t one of them.”

Finn throws a blueberry at him, which Ren catches with surprising dexterity despite looking half-asleep. “You love myshopping expertise. Who found those absurdly overpriced sheets you slept with for over a year?”

“Good point,” Ren concedes, popping the blueberry into his mouth. “They were worth every penny.”

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