Page 6 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“I’ll get you some water,” I say, my voice low enough that only Finn and Hailey can hear. She’s pale, hands trembling in her lap, and I don’t need enhanced alpha senses to know something’s very wrong.

The moment I step away, melting into the crowd with ease, my mind races. Her reaction to Veyra Heath was…extreme. Not the typical omega nervousness around a powerful alpha, but something closer to terror. Raw. Visceral.

I might be fucking paranoid about a lot, my shadows have fucking shadows, but what I saw was real.

I weave through clusters of guests, nodding at those who recognize me but never slowing. Their inane conversations about stock prices and vacation homes wash over me like white noise. To my left, two alphas debate whose omega wore a betterdesigner gown tonight. Fucking absurd. All bullshit. Meanwhile, somewhere in this glittering ballroom, predators lurk beneath expensive suits and fake smiles.

My gaze tracks toward the velvet ropes where Pack Ashgrave holds court. Those scarred, dangerous alphas who move through high society like wolves in tailored suits. If anyone here knows where the real predators lurk tonight, it’s them.

Beneath this glittering surface, something rotten pulses. Just like my parents’ galas. Just like the events where I’d stood, ignorant and complicit, while omegas disappeared behind closed doors.

The realization hits as I weave through the crowd: I never escaped it. This world—the one of powerful alphas who trade in flesh and fear—it never ended. I just pretended it had. Convinced myself that by walking away, by taking Finn, by building something real with Stone and Jax, I could somehow leave it all behind.

But it’s been here all along. Waiting. Patient. And now it’s reached out to touch what’s mine. Hailey.

I can’t hide from it anymore.

Or from her. Or from Finn. Stone. Jax.

She’s woven her way into our pack. Denying who she is,whatshe is, isn’t possible even if I want to.

My senses remain attuned to her and Finn, even as I put distance between us. The bar is across the room, but I take a detour, circling wide to get a better view of Veyra Heath.

She’s still with Stone and Jax. Still the picture of composed elegance—midnight hair swept into an immaculate updo, black dress clinging to her slender frame like a second skin. Nothing in her demeanor betrays the monster Hailey’s reaction suggests lurks beneath. Nothing in her demeanor betrays tension or concern, but something about her sets my teeth on edge. I’ve met her before—several charity events, a few business functions—but tonight, studying her through the lens of Hailey’s reaction, I see her differently.

The way she holds herself. The careful way she moves. The distance she maintains from everyone around her, even as she appears engaged in conversation.

I know that kind of control.

I’ve lived it.

My spine bristles as I grab two glasses of water from a passing server, my gaze barely sliding over the scars on my fingers. Scars from when I’d pulled Finn from that wreckage and didn’t even feel the metal tearing into my skin. Turning back toward where I left him and Hailey, I stop short. They’re…not there.

My brows furrow, gaze sweeping the room. They wouldn’t have gone far. Finn wouldn’t leave without telling the rest of the pack, not when Hailey was in that state.

I push through the crowd, moving faster now, ignoring the irritated glances from guests forced to step aside. The knot in my gut tightens with each second they remain out of sight.

When I reach the spot where I left them, there’s nothing. No sign they were ever there.

Then I notice it—the slight disturbance in the crowd near the side exit, a few guests rubbing their arms like they’d been brushed past too quickly. The doors to the garden are just barely ajar, a whisper of night air cutting through the stifling heat of the party.

Finn and Hailey.

They went outside.

I follow the trail, moving with purpose now, no longer bothering with social niceties as I shoulder past guests and ignore their affronted looks. Yea. Whatever. Fuck them.

The moment I step outside, the night air hits me. Cool and a welcome relief. I fucking hate these galas. It’s like being in a den of venomous snakes and letting them crawl all over you.

Pausing, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, my senses reaching out for any trace of our omegas.

It’s the voices I hear first. Voices raised in concern, coming from around the corner of the building. And beneath it all, the unmistakable scent of fear.

And something else. A scent that’s been embedded in my brain since that night.

Blood.

My world narrows to a pinpoint, instincts surging to the surface as I break into a run. I round the corner and freeze, the scene before me twisting reality into something unrecognizable.

---