Page 39 of Chain Me Knot

I can finally,finallyrest.

I close my eyes and surrender to the water's welcoming depths. To the peace and coolness. I'm floating. Drifting. Suspended. Weightless. Timeless.Free.

My lungs burn. My chest aches but it's a distant sensation, unimportant compared to the absolute peace of this moment. I can’t stand any more pain, any more discomfort, so I let out my breath, watching the bubbles spiral toward the surface.

It doesn't hurt. Not like I thought it would. It's more like... release. Like letting go of a burden I've carried for too long. The moonlight fades. The water grows gloomier, and I drift into soothing darkness, content that in the end, I found my beach. In the end, it saved me just like I knew it would.

Chapter Fifteen

Asher

Ilean over the guard station desk, the harsh fluorescent lights making my eyes burn after hours in the darkness. The night's logs spread before me, each entry a potential vulnerability, a possible threat. Every delivery, every shift change, every shadow that's moved across our cameras has been documented, but I check again. And again. We can't afford to miss anything. Not after how easily Pack Carmichael breached hospital security.

My fingers trace each line of text, the paper crinkling under my touch. Coffee cups litter the desk, evidence of my endless rounds, my refusal to rest while Emma suffers upstairs. The guards exchange worried glances when they think I'm not looking. I've been here too long, checked too many times, butI can't stop.

“I want to be contacted for every entrance,” I tell them, my voice sandpaper-rough from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. “Every delivery, every maintenance worker, every piece of mail. I don't care if it's the pizza guy. You call me first. No exceptions.”

The guards nod, properly intimidated by whatever they see in my face. Good. After the hospital breach, after watching those bastards get so close to reclaiming her, I'm taking no chances. My mate is upstairs, damaged and terrified, and I'll burn this whole compound to the ground before I let anyone hurt her again.

I make my way to the house that is turning out not to be her haven. It’s been twenty-four hours, and she’s not come out of her room, refusing food, refusing comfort, refusing everything we try to offer.

I understand why. Gods, do I understand. Her trauma runs deeper than physical wounds. Years in that basement, gods know how long at Haven before that has warped her perception of what she deserves. Every kindness we offer gets filtered through layers of learned distrust. Every choice we give her becomes another potential trap in her mind.

She's not eating, barely sleeping, refusing to engage. Her response is based on trauma but knowing that doesn't make it easier to watch. Doesn't make her silence less devastating. Doesn't stop us from second-guessing every move we make.

My impulsive, unforgivable moment of lost control has done more damage than good. I gave her a reason to distrust us, and another reason to expect the worst.

We’re going to have to be more proactive. Giving her space, while well-intentioned, has enabled her to spiral. Too many things have happened to her in too short a timeframe. I’ve held back when the only thing I want to do is break down her door and hold her in her nest until she knows she’s safe.

The truth is, we’re all playing this by ear, walking a tightrope between respecting her boundaries and preventing her from completely withdrawing. Between giving her control and keeping her safe. Between being the alphas she needs and the monsters she expects, and fuck, I hate all of it because she shouldknow the difference when it comes to us without an ounce of doubt or fear in her body.

I hate that I messed this up not just for her, but for Soren and Phoenix as well. They deserve their omega as much as she deserves them.

Movement on one of the security monitors on my device snags my attention. Camera six – the patio view. A pale figure drifts into frame. It’s Emma. She still wears the clothing from the hospital even though I know Soren had fresh clothes delivered. That means she hasn’t been out of bed or showered to change—and we’ve let her.

Another nail is hammered into my coffin, but then my eyes follow the path she takes to the shallow end of the pool. My heart stops as she reaches the water's edge. She hovers there, standing so still she might be part of the furniture, but then she steps into the water and moves deeper.

My feet are already moving, the radio I share with my bond brothers out of my pocket as I start racing up the hill toward the house. The water is up to her chest as she tips her head back to stare at the moon. I roar as her head disappears below the surface, not even leaving a ripple. If I hadn’t been here to witness it, she wouldn’t have been seen.

One second passes. Two. Three.

She doesn't come up.

“No!” The word tears from my throat, primal and raw. I press the radio button so hard it breaks. Fucking damnit! I still bark into the device. “Soren! Phoenix. Emma is in the pool!”

The radio clatters behind me, nearly hitting a figure dressed in the guard’s black camouflage. I recognize the build. It’s Jones. He should be restricted from the compound after the hospital incident. I wonder who the fuck let him back here, but none of that matters except getting to Emma.

I vault over the first fence, muscles screaming with effort. My boots barely touch the ground before I'm launching over the next one. The fastest route is straight through the compound's back gardens. To hell with proper paths.

Ornamental shrubs snag at my clothes, and security lights blaze in my eyes as they flicker on with my movement. I vault the final fence into our backyard, landing hard enough to rattle my bones. The pool glows with underwater lights, illuminating the motionless water, while fairy lights above cast deceptively tranquil patterns across the surface. Somewhere beneath that calm façade is my mate.

Soren and Phoenix burst through the sliding doors, responding to my emotions running wild through our pack bond, but confused. They haven't seen what I saw on the monitors. Haven't realized why I'm sprinting across the lawn like death itself is chasing me. Because it is.

“Ash? What’s going on?” Phoenix starts.

I don't explain. Don't pause to remove my boots. Just launch into the pool. I arrow into the deep end and see her shadowed form on the bottom, unnaturally still, hair floating around her head.

My lungs burn as I stretch toward her. My fingers brush her arm, then lock around her waist. I secure her in my hold and kick off hard from the bottom, propelling us both toward the surface, my muscles screaming against the weight of waterlogged clothes and precious cargo.

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