Page 109 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“Can I help you?” he asks, but there’s nothing friendly in his tone.

“Delivery for Jax Ironwood?” a young male voice replies. “Need a signature.”

Ren opens the door wider, revealing a delivery man in a brown uniform standing in front of a box almost as tall as he isand twice as wide. An electronic signature pad is in his hand. The poor beta takes one look at Ren’s still-bruised face and imposing stance and visibly swallows.

“Um, signature?” he squeaks, holding out the pad with a trembling hand.

Jax steps forward, placing a calming hand on Ren’s shoulder as he moves past him. “I’ll sign,” he says, taking the pad and scrawling his name.

The delivery man hands over the large box, looking relieved to be completing the transaction without incident. “Have a good day,” he mumbles before turning to leave with a speed that borders on comical.

As Jax closes the door, we all let out a collective breath.

“Sorry,” Ren says, running a hand through his hair. “I’m still a bit…on edge.”

“We all are,” Jax assures him, pulling the box into the hallway. “It’s going to take time.”

Finn moves closer to the package, curiosity evident in his expression. “What is this?”

“Just some things for the house,” Jax says vaguely, a hint of something like awkwardness in his tone. “Coffee first, then I’ll show you.”

The moment passes, tension gradually easing as we settle into the familiar routine of being home. Stone brings out mugs of coffee. Turns out, I like mine with a splash of milk and honey. Finn likes his heavy on cream and sugar. Jax takes his with just a touch of cinnamon, and Ren likes his black.

Stone’s fingers brush mine as he hands over the coffee, his touch lingering. I can almost feel his concern, his desire to comfort, his uncertainty about how to do so. I lean slightly into his solid presence, offering him a warm smile.

“Thank you,” I murmur, accepting the mug and letting its warmth seep into my hands.

We gather in the living room, finding our places with the natural choreography of a pack that knows each other well. Jax takes the armchair, Ren perches on its arm, Stone and Finn settle on opposite ends of the couch, and I tuck myself between them, drawing comfort from their proximity.

For a while, we just sit, drinking coffee and re-acclimating to the house. No one mentions Heath or Caldwell or the nightmare of the past week. It feels like a deliberate choice, a collective decision to focus on reclaiming normalcy before confronting what lies ahead.

Eventually, Jax sets his mug down and stands, jerking his chin at the delivered package. “I should get this upstairs,” he says, an odd note in his voice I can’t quite decipher.

Stone and Ren exchange a glance I don’t understand before rising as well. “We’ll help,” Stone says.

Finn catches my eye, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion that matches my own. “What’s in the box?” he asks again.

“Just some things we ordered,” Jax answers, still being frustratingly vague. “For the house.”

Something about the way he says it, the way the three alphas seem suddenly awkward, raises a flag in my mind. They’re hiding something. After all their promises of honesty, of no more secrets, they’re keeping something from us.

“Why don’t you two stay down here?” Ren suggests, his tone carefully casual. “Rest a bit. We’ll be back down soon.”

Before I can protest, they’re moving toward the stairs, the large box balanced between them. I watch them go, a sinking feeling in my stomach. Are we already back to this? Back to the tension and the heartache?

“What do you think they’re up to?” I whisper to Finn once they’ve disappeared upstairs.

He shrugs, but I can see the worry in his eyes. “No idea. But I don’t like being left out of whatever it is.”

I chew my lower lip, debating whether to follow them or give them the benefit of the doubt. “They promised,” I say finally. “No more secrets, right? We’re supposed to be a pack now. Share everything.”

Finn sighs, leaning back against the couch. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

His resignation makes my heart ache. After everything we’ve been through, after the strides we made at the cabin toward true pack harmony, Finn doesn’t deserve this.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” I offer, trying to convince myself as much as him. “Maybe they really did just order something for the house.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, though he doesn’t sound convinced.

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