Page 13 of Knot My Type

"Have you ever heard the names Kael and Rhys?"

Eliana's head turns toward me so quickly I worry she might hurt her neck. "How do you...?"

"I'm part of that pack," I say simply. "I was driving to Millbrook to meet you."

The silence that follows is profound, broken only by the sound of the wind and the truck's laboring engine. I can practically hear her mind working through the implications.

"You're..." she starts, then stops. "But you said you're a beta."

"I am. Kael and Rhys are the alphas. I'm the third."

I can feel her studying my profile as I drive, and I find myself hoping she isn't disappointed. Betas are often overlooked in the dynamics of pack formation, seen as useful but not essential. But in my experience, packs without betas rarely find the stability they need.

"I didn't know there was a beta," she says quietly.

"Does that change things?"

She's quiet for so long I think she might not answer. When she finally speaks, her voice is thoughtful. "I don't know. I haven’t been part off a pack since forever. I don't really know how any of this works anymore.”

The honesty in her admission makes something warm unfurl in my chest. "Most people don't," I say. "It's not exactly

KAEL

Istand in the dimly lit hallway, replaying everything that’s happened over the last few days. The storm outside mirrors the chaos in my head—each gust of wind stoking the flames of anxiety about our safety and the risks that come with staying hidden.

Fen has been gone a long time. We never made it to Millbrook. I knew from the start it was a stupid idea, but I was tired of being called the grumpy one, so I caved. And that’s exactly what nearly happened—we nearly got buried by an avalanche.

I knew Fen’s truck was too old and too slow—kind of like him, sometimes—to make it back. But he’s just too damn sentimental. He thinks that because the truck’s been passed down from one generation to the next, leaving it behind would be like abandoning his old man.

The thing is, that heap of junk he calls a truck is practically dead. Nothing works properly—from the wipers to the damn heating.

The door swings open with a creak that echoes through the stillness. Fen bursts in, and he’s cradling in his arms a half-frozen woman—her face pale, hair a tangled mess—snugglytucked against him. Before I can even process his entrance, I find myself taking a step forward, my heart hammering in my chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I demand, my voice a low growl that rumbles through the cramped space. The alpha inside me rages, protective instincts surging.

“Fen, where the hell did you go? And is that an omega?” My nose twitches instinctively as the scent wafts toward me, raw and faintly floral, beneath the layers of cold and fear. Yes, it is.

I’ve answered my own damn question!

“What the fuck did you do?” I practically bark, but the desperation in Fen’s eyes gives me pause.

“Kael, she needed help!” he explains, urgency in his tone, trying to catch his breath. “She was out there all alone. I couldn’t just leave her!”

“Send her back,” I snap, shaking my head. “We’ve been in hiding for too long, Fen. You know the risks that come with bringing an omega into our space. We can’t afford to attract attention! This is why we were going to Millbrook, to see her there not here. ”

Fen stands his ground, still cradling her close like she’s the most precious thing in the world. In this moment, I see how torn he is—caught between loyalty to me and his instinct to protect. He doesn’t say anything in response, but I can see the sparks of defiance dancing behind his eyes, and I know I won’t win him over easily.

Rhys, who’s been leaning against the doorframe, finally pushes himself off to join us. “Kael, come on,” he begins, attempting to intervene. “You’re not a monster. We can’t send her back out into that storm!”

I can feel my frustration mounting as I glance at the woman slumped against Fen, unconscious and vulnerable. The intensity of her scent—an omega’s scent—wafts delicately amidst thedampness of the cabin. It pulls at something instinctual inside me, igniting an urge to protect her, but I fight it down.

“Do you not understand what kind of trouble this could bring?” I hiss, glancing between Fen and Rhys. “We’ve kept our heads down for too long.”

Fen shifts slightly, tightening his grip on the woman as if his body alone can shield her from my scrutiny. “She isn’t a threat, Kael. You need to see that. Look at her. She’s half-frozen and barely conscious.”

The way he says it hits me, the worry in his voice cutting through my rage. I take a deep breath, the scent of cedarwood mingling with the dampness in the air, and I can taste the storm on my tongue—a stark reminder of the chaos that lurks outside.

The hallway is dim, with the light of a nearby lantern. I can feel the weight of my decisions pressing in, every breath thick with the sense of something darker approaching. I grip the edge of the doorframe, my muscles tense, contemplating the consequences of my next move.

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