Page 130 of Down Knot Out
Holden’s fingers squeeze mine. “You were always whole, cupcake. We’re not what makes you complete. We’re just the ones who will support you through the good and the bad, protecting you from anyone who wants to hurt you.”
The simple truth of his words sinks into me,settling alongside the bonds like the final piece of a puzzle I didn’t know needed to be solved.
Blake kisses my temple, beard tickling my skin. “Do you want to shower? Or do you want to rest some more?”
I flex my toes in Dominic’s hold and relax in Nathaniel’s arms. “Will you stay with me?”
“Forever,” Holden vows. “That’s what it means to be bondmates.”
With a contented sigh, I sink deeper into their embrace, the combined warmth of four bodies and four bonds cocooning me in safety. My eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of three days catching up all at once.
As I drift toward sleep, four pairs of lips brush my forehead, my cheek, my hand, and my shoulder.
My Alphas.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nathaniel
The apple splits cleanly beneath my knife, its scent crisp and bright in the stillness of the morning. I arrange the slices on a plate, ignoring the contractor updates lighting up my phone.
I can’t focus on work right now. Not with the pack bond humming in my chest. I had grown accustomed to the bond with my bondmates over the last few years, but now a new chord threads through them all, easing a tension I hadn’t realized I carried until it was gone.
After three days lost to rut, bonding with our Omega, I feel...realigned. The uneven ground beneath my feet finally leveled.
A floorboard creaks behind me, and my head lifts as Holden enters the kitchen, barefoot and half-asleep, flannel pajama pants slung low on his hips. His wild curls frame his face, lending a softness to his features. Love bites pepper his bare chest as proof of our little Omega’s enthusiasm for the gentlest of our Alphas.
He knuckles sleep from his eyes. “Morning.”
I smirk at him. “Haven’t seen you sleep past dawn in years.”
A flush creeps up his neck as he blinks blearily around the kitchen, unsure for the first time of what he should be doing.
“There’s coffee,” I add, gesturing toward the pot. “Just finished brewing.”
He shuffles to it and pours a cup, inhales the steam, then takes a slow sip. “Any word from Kyle about Quinn?”
“Text came in around six. They’re heading back soon. She caught her first fish.”
A slow grin spreads across his face as he grabs a bowl from the cabinet. “Now she’s going to want to be a fisherman.”
I chuckle. “Kyle would be happy for the company, so long as she doesn’t get tired of being on the water before he’s done for the day.”
More awake now, Holden moves with ease around the kitchen, muscles flexing as he reaches for ingredients. Flour, eggs, milk, vanilla. Withpracticed efficiency, he whips the batter, the spoon clanking on the sides of the bowl.
“Pancakes?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Figured we could all use the calories.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “Cut up apples for everyone, while you’re at it.”
“Yes, sir.” I grab another from the bowl on the counter and get to work.
The knife slices through the skin, and I line the pieces up with the others. I roll my shoulders, my body aching, muscles pushed beyond their limits during the frenzy of Chloe’s Heat, and smile.
Worth every twinge.
The skillet sizzles as Holden pours the first circle of batter, and the scent of vanilla fills the air, mingling with coffee and the lingering scent of pack pheromones that still clings to our skin.
I want to wake up smelling like this every day for the rest of our lives.
