Page 58 of Knot My Type

She's quiet for a long moment, her gaze moving between us with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. Finally, she nods. "I need some time to think."

"Of course," Fen says immediately. "Take all the time you need."

But even as I nod agreement, I can smell the subtle shift in her scent—not distress, exactly, but something more complex. The sweet omega fragrance that's become as familiar as breathing carries undertones I can't quite identify. Change, maybe. Decision.

"I'm going to go for a walk," she says, already moving toward the front door. "Clear my head a bit."

"Eliana—" I start, but she's already grabbing her jacket from the hook by the door.

"I'll be back," she says, glancing over her shoulder with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I just need to think."

The door closes behind her with a soft click, and the three of us are left standing in the sudden silence of the kitchen. Through the front window, I watch her walk down the cleared path toward the main road, her figure growing smaller with each step.

"Well," Kael says eventually. "That went about as well as expected."

"She's hurt," Fen observes quietly. "She thinks we want her to leave."

"Don't we?" The question slips out before I can stop it, raw and honest in a way that surprises even me. "Isn't that the responsible thing? To let her go back to her real life instead of keeping her here because we want her?"

Kael's expression darkens. "Since when do you care about being responsible when it comes to what we want?"

It's a fair question, and one I don't have a good answer for. In business, in life, I've always been the one to take what I wanted without apology. Charm and confidence have opened doors that might have stayed closed to others, and I've never hesitated to walk through them.

But this is different. Eliana is different.

"Since it's her life we're talking about," I say finally. "Since she's already been hurt by people who claimed to care about her but really just wanted to use her."

The accusation hangs heavy between us, and I see the moment it hits home in both their faces. Because that's what we'd be doing, isn't it? Using our bond, our connection, the feelings we've built over these weeks to keep her here for our own happiness instead of what's best for hers.

"You think that's what we're doing?" Fen's voice is quiet, but there's steel underneath. "Using her?"

"I think," I say carefully, "that we need to be very sure we're not."

We fall into silence again, each lost in our own thoughts. Outside, the day continues to brighten, melting more snow and revealing patches of brown earth that promise spring's eventual arrival. Life moving forward, whether we're ready or not.

I find myself thinking about the first night Eliana was here, how small and lost she looked despite her attempts to maintain composure. The way she flinched when any of us moved too quickly, the careful distance she kept even as she was grateful for our help. She'd been hurt, betrayed by people she trusted, and it had taken weeks for her to begin to relax around us.

Now she laughs easily, touches freely, settles into our space like she belongs here. The transformation has been gradual but profound, and I realize I've been so focused on my own feelings, my own wants, that I haven't stopped to consider what the past month has meant to her.

Has it been healing, or have we just been another cage, prettier than her old life but a cage nonetheless?

"I'm going after her," Kael announces suddenly, already moving toward the door.

"Wait," I catch his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Let her think. She said she needed space."

"She's been walking for twenty minutes," he argues. "In weather that's still unpredictable. What if—"

"What if she needs this time away from us to figure out what she actually wants?" I counter. "What if following her just proves that we can't respect her boundaries?"

He stops, conflict clear on his face, but he doesn't pull away from my grip. "I don't like it."

"None of us do," Fen says quietly. "But Rhys is right. She needs to make this choice without us hovering."

Kael's jaw works for a moment before he nods reluctantly. "Fine. But if she's not back in an hour, I'm going looking."

I release his arm, understanding the compromise. We're all struggling with the same protective instincts, the same need to ensure Eliana is safe and cared for. But sometimes protection means giving someone space to breathe, even when every instinct screams against it.

The next hour passes with excruciating slowness. Kael paces between the kitchen and living room like a caged animal, pausing at each window to scan for any sign of Eliana's return. Fen busies himself with unnecessary cleaning, organizing kitchen cabinets that are already perfectly organized. I try to read, but the words blur together on the page, my attention constantly drawn to the driveway outside.

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