Page 140 of Believe it or Knot

“We should have waited,” Liam says, hitting me with his sincere puppy dog eyes again. “We see that now. We should have talked to you first, before we even set up the interview with Guilia.”

“But we didn’t want to go one more minute without telling the world that you belong to us,” Rafe moves a step closer.

“With us,” Gage corrects. “You belong with us. Not to us. Though I’m pretty sure we belong to you. I know I do. I can’t really speak for the others.”

Gray shakes his head. “The things they were saying about you, Sorrel. We couldn’t let them go on one moment longer. We needed to step in to protect you.”

“It’s instinct, lovely. My omega would literally not let me hold my tongue.”

I sigh and shift. As a beta, I can’t pretend to know what omega and alpha instincts are like, but I do know that when either designation feels like someone they deem theirs is in any sort of danger, they’ll react.

I suppose nasty comments could be seen as dangerous. But it’s more likely that they couldn’t stand to see the possibility of people thinking badly of me when they could do something about it.

Which is nice. But still.

“You should have talked to me first.”

Gray nods. “Yes. Absolutely, sweet thing. We should have talked to you first. Put off the interview until we’d worked things out among ourselves.”

I nod. “Exactly.” My arms drop to my sides as a wave of exhaustion hits. “Because honestly, I’m not sure I want to do this.”

The four of them go still. I’m not even sure they’re breathing.

“Not sure you want to do what, conejita?” Rafe takes a step toward me, and I get the distinct impression that I am being hunted.

I back up a step as he advances. “You know what, Rafe.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I think I need you to spell it out for me.”

I back up a step, waving a hand between me and the rest of them. “This. Be in a relationship with you. Put my heart in your hands and trust that you won’t hurt me again. I don’t think I can just do that again. With any of you.”

I don’t miss how Gage winces at that.

“Too bad,” Gray says, drawing my attention immediately.

I arch a brow at him. “Too bad?”

He nods slowly, stalking toward me with the same intent as Rafe. “Yep. Too fucking bad. You aren’t going anywhere. We aren’t going anywhere. You aren’t ready to trust us with your heart? That’s… well, not fine, but understandable. We’re willing to put in the work for you. To show you we mean it this time. That we won’t fuck up like we did. And eventually, you will trust us again. You’ll give us your heart.”

I frown and fold my arms over my chest. “You can’t know that.”

The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. “I do know that, Sorrel. Because if you feel even an ounce of what I feel for you… its inevitable.”

The words tug at something in my chest. Inevitable sounds an awful lot like fated. And I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of talk. But I can’t help but soften toward them. They’ve made mistakes, loads of them. But so have I.

Rather than try to refute what they heard in that altered conversation, to explain, to prove to them I wasn’t that type of person, I walked away. Gray had begged me with his tone of voice to give them a reason to believe me, and I’d just… given up.

In my mind, our ending was inevitable.

But what if it’s the opposite? What if my being a part of their pack is meant to be? And everything that came before it, all the hurt and anger and tears, was just meant to prove it? That we can weather any storm and any reservations that any of us have, so long as we are open with each other willing to communicate and stick it out.

Gray grins, sensing his—their—impending victory over me.

“I’m still mad at you,” I scowl, backing up a step, readying for a retreat, to run and hide and maybe call Sylvie and Sadie and have them talk me through what I should do here.

But I don’t make it very far, because as I back up I run right into a warm wall of muscle that smells like wood fire smoke and vanilla scented whiskey. Gray moves in front of me and Liam comes up on my left side while Rafe comes up on my right. The prime of the pack reaches up and cups my face gently, fingers stroking over my skin. “You can be mad at us all you want, sweet one. I don’t expect one interview to clear up all of your anger and hurt. But you can be mad while staying right next to us where we can see you, where we can touch you.”

“What if I don’t want you to touch me?” I say, wanting to sound derisive, but it comes out sounding… breathless… needy.

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