Page 75 of Chain Me Knot

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Soren

Iflip the bacon, the buttery sizzle filling the kitchen with its comforting aroma, while behind me Phoenix and Asher sit at the island bench. Phoenix is tapping at his laptop keys, his frustrated grimace unmistakable. Asher leans in close beside him, tension in every line of his body. His worry matches my own. Frayed edges of unease tighten around my chest with every passing minute we remain dark, on the wrong side of the line we've always fought to protect, but to do anything else would mean Emma being taken away from us. We need answers faster than the net surely closing around us, because I can’t imagine another day without her squarely in it.

I adjust the heat under the pan, forcing my thoughts away from bitter frustration and back to last night instead. Emma's scream still echoes loudly in mymind, freezing the blood in my veins all over again. I've never felt such pure terror as I did in that one agonizing moment, heart slamming painfully in my chest while I scrambled from my bed and into her room. Phoenix and Asher emerged just as fast from their rooms. Emma’s shattered sobs and trembling panic were my own. All I wanted was to shield her, wrap her so deeply within my embrace she'd never experience that fear again.

Letting her rest now is the least we can offer. Her trauma runs deep and now she’s had a chance not to live in that hypervigilant state that kept her contained, she’s starting to unravel.

Leaving her curled in the blankets felt like torture, every instinct roaring to hold my omega close and secure against me, but we can’t stop pushing forward. Not for an instant. Not until the Carmichaels are legally neutralized. Or dead. Whichever comes first. Right now, I'm far past caring which it will be. All that matters is Emma’s safety, freedom, and peace. Everything else is secondary.

“Anything yet?” There’s grit in Asher's voice as he pushes back from the counter.

Phoenix shakes his head, fingers drumming impatiently against the countertop. “Nothing useful. Fucking Carmichaels have their fingers in everything. Adrian gave us a Hail Mary with this place, but they're powerful and connected. We can't hide Emma forever. If anyone suspects the Blackwoods are putting us up, they’re going to be on the wrong side of the law with us.”

I’m about to respond when something shifts behind me—a faint padding of bare feet whisper-soft against the floor accompanied with a burst of floral honey. The scent is delicate, soft wild honeysuckle mixing subtly with the freshness of morning… Emma.

Her sleep-rumpled state steals my focus. Tousled waves of pale blonde spill across narrow shoulders and tumble down her back. Her sweater hangs loosely down to mid-thigh, one sleeve slipping down enough to bare a soft curve of her shoulder. She shifts her weight softly from foot to foot, causing the fabric to slip and twist further, emphasizing just how delicate and small she truly is.

Her cheeks are flushed with lingering warmth from sleep, contrasting vividly with the fragile shadows of exhaustion beneath her wide blue eyes. Her guard isn’t completely gone, but it’s down enough to expose edges of sleepy tenderness. She’s the sweetest, most achingly innocent thing I have ever seen—beautifully disheveled, slightly shy, yet quietly trusting.

“Morning, Tough Girl. How'd you sleep?” Phoenix greets immediately, warmth coloring every syllable, genuine joy clear in his voice.

I glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Phoenix already pushing smoothly off his stool to move toward Emma, affection radiating from him. Her smile is shy and a little hesitant, but real.

Phoenix gently cups the side of her jaw, tilting her face carefully upward. “Can I say good morning properly?”

Emma nods softly, leaning into him as he dips his head, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. As he steps back, Asher approaches her, his movement careful. Emma freezes —just a tiny hitch in her shoulders—but she doesn't pull away. Her gaze flicks up toward his, nervous emotion shadowing her eyes.

“Hey,” Asher’s voice is deep and rough, but gentle. He waits, patient and cautious, holding himself back until she gives him permission.

A tentative pause hangs thick between them, tension crackling subtly through the air. Then Emma lets out a small breath and steps into Asher's open arms, her embrace shy and tentative but deliberate. I exhale, tension melting inside my chest, relieved by the bravery in her trust.

Last night changed everything. I felt when Asher stopped hating himself for hurting Emma and let her feel everything. Not just the bad, but all the good he’s kept locked down inside. It was overwhelming, and achingly vulnerable. Phoenix and I feigned sleep last night when it happened, pretending quiet ignorance as they shared that powerful, intimate moment, but I witnessed it unfold in secret awe, sensing every ripple of emotion, every careful, raw truth Asher gifted her.

It was a massive step forward, necessary and profound.

Watching the intimacy happen quietly redefined everything. It deepened our pack connection into something powerful and fiercely complete.

Now, anticipation expands heavily inside me, an eager ache that's almost painful, because someday—hopefully soon—I’ll be able to share my bond too, let our omega experience exactly how deeply I cherish and care for her. Being patient isn't easy.

The longing vibrates within me, breathlessly awaiting the moment Emma is ready for us all.

I turn back to the stove to flip the bacon before it burns, my attention pulled away. Awareness prickles along my spine seconds before a hesitant touch brushes my back, the smallest pressure between my shoulder blades.

“Good morning, Soren.”

I still, heart stuttering, pulse pounding at my throat at the sound of her gorgeous, soft voice. It’s such a small thing, her tentative fingers hovering against my shirt, but its meaning explodes through me, shaking my foundations.

She reached for me. She sought contact first.

Asher may share their bond first, but this first is all mine.

Then her slim arms slowly, carefully slide around my waist, her body molding against my back as she buries her face between my shoulder blades, the whispered warmth of her exhale seeping into me. I hold my breath, determined not to move too quickly, not to break this fragile, precious moment of trust.

Warmth ripples from my heart, radiating along every nerve ending. Her soft body behind me is small but fierce in its quiet bravery. Her gesture whispers trust and affection louder than any words ever could. How can something so simple, so tentative and cautious, become one of the most profound moments of my life?

Slowly—oh so carefully—I shift around until she’s no longer wrapping my back, but instead encircled gently within the embrace of my arms, held against my chest. Just where she belongs.

---