Page 49 of Chain Me Knot

“Emma.” I turn in my seat to face her fully, needing her to see the truth in my eyes. “Feel Asher through your bond. Really feel him. He hasn't closed it off. Have you, brother?”

Asher’s grip tightens on the wheel. His gaze flicks to her in the rear vision mirror. “Never, Moonbeam. I won’t do that to you again.”

She hesitates, uncertainty flickering across her features. A frown forms on her brow as she focuses inwards. Her hand comes up to clasp her chest and her surprised gasp fills the car. “You—”

“Get used to it, Moonbeam,” Asher growls.

“But…they'll hurt you.” The moonlight catches the tears in her eyes, making them glitter like stars. Asher is right. She’s a pure beam of moonlight, glowing and bright and everything good in this world. And she’sours.

We’re not worthy. Not even close, but like the greedy bastard I am, I’ll take everything she’ll give us.

“Let them try,” Phoenix says with a fierce grin that holds more wolf than humor. “Some things are worth everything to fight for.”

“That’s you, if Phoenix isn’t clear enough,” I add, letting my own conviction color the words. “You’re worth everything, Omega. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”

Emma's lower lip trembles, as her gaze darts between us. “I don't understand you. Any of you. You're nothing like...”

“Nothing like the alphas you've known?” I finish when she trails off. “Good. That's exactly how it should be.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, some of the tension easing from her frame.

“Emma.” Asher's voice is gentle but carries an undercurrent of pain. I feel how much this question costs him through our pack bond. “Why were you in the pool?” He can't seem to ask the next question, his throat working around words too painful to voice.Were you trying to end things?

“I thought...” She presses closer to Phoenix as if seeking an anchor in reality.

“Thought what, Moonbeam?” Asher prompts. “Is this anything to do with the beach you told us about?”

Her eyes flare. “I did?”

“In the shower. You asked us if you were at your beach,” I say.

She's quiet for so long I think she won't answer. Her fingers play with the edge of the blanket. When she finally speaks, her voice is a whisper barely audible over the hum of the engine.

“I always wanted to see the beach. The waves, the sand...” Her voice catches. “Any beach, but…I don't know if I imagined it right. I've never actually been. I just... made it up in my head. Made it perfect.” The admission costs her something vital, like sharing this dream makes her more vulnerable than being naked in our arms. “It was better than being…there.”

The pieces click into place, confirming what I'd suspected from her behavior. A dissociative episode, triggered by the perfect storm of stress and heat hormones. Her mind created an escape when reality became unbearable, crafting a sanctuary of sand and sea where no alpha could reach her. The beach became her safe place during whatever horrors Pack Carmichael inflicted. Tonight, confused byheat and overwhelmed by new sensations both pleasant and terrifying, her mind sought that familiar comfort.

“That took a lot of courage. Thank you for telling us.” Phoenix tilts her head, wiping away the tears that leave silvery tracks down her cheek before pressing a kiss to her skin.

Her eyes flicker closed and stay shut.

She’s exhausted, and sharing this vital piece of herself has cost her. This is a gift, one given because she has a tiny kernel of trust. Every vulnerability she reveals is an act of courage that humbles me.

An hour later, Asher pulls up in front of the chop shop. We know it well, hidden in plain sight, masquerading as an auto repair business. Mickey owes me after I kept his omega sister out of Haven's clutches last year, hiding her instead of dropping her off at the vultures’ feet. His operation isn't pretty, but it's efficient and, more importantly, discreet. He’s thankful we didn’t bring him down, opting to keep his business operational. Besides, in our eyes, he did nothing wrong.

Never in a million years would I suspect his brand of help would be for our omega.

Phoenix stays with Emma while I talk to Mickey. The sound of power tools and the acrid smell of paint fill the pre-dawn air as they switch plates and VINs. Within twenty minutes, we're in a nondescript gray sedan. The kind of vehicle that becomes invisible in city traffic. Next we find the internet café, nearly empty at this hour. Just a couple of night shift workers nursing cold coffees.

I make sure my hood covers my head as I slide into a seat and power up a computer. My hands shake from exhaustion as I route through three VPNs before initiating contact with Cole. It’s just before six in the morning but I know Cole wakes up early to get in an hour of gym time before work. Thank fuck this morning is no different. The response is immediate, green text appearing on the black screen: Secure channel established. I close my eyes in relief that Cole is as close to an insomniac as a man can get. My fingers stumble over keys, the aftermath adrenaline making them clumsy.

ME: Cole, we need immediate assistance. The police safe house was compromised and we’re on the run. Emma is with us, but the situation is critical.

COLE: Fuck! How the hell did that happen? Are you all alright? Where the hell are you now?

Questions we’d like to know and will go out of our way to find out. The compound should have been secure, not only from infiltration but from double-crossing as well.

ME: I’m in a secure internet cafe. A strike team was sent to the compound. We suspect to retrieve Emma. We suspect inside help at department level. We can't trust anyone in the force. We just made it out. We're running dark. Ditched phones, badges, everything traceable.

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