Page 36 of Chain Me Knot

I slide to the edge of the stool, my movements slow and careful. I eye the distance between me, the alphas and the door that I’m sure I won’t make it past, but seconds tick by and neither alpha moves. Their scents remain charged, but their bodies stay exactly where they are.

Soren clears his throat, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You don’t have to worry, Emma. Please don’t stop making any sounds you want to make. It's... gratifying to hear you enjoy your food as you should.”

“I'm going to stock the entire pantry with these rolls. You can have them every day if you want,” Phoenix says.

The promise of daily bread shouldn't make my throat tight. Shouldn't make my chest ache with something dangerous and warm. It's such a small thing, but it’s also enormous.

Too enormous. Too dangerous.

They see too much. Care too much.

I buckle beneath the weight of promised attention that is everything I need and nothing I want. Their scents slam into my unprotected soft omega center. My omega hindbrain stretches awake behind the barricades I built to contain it. Padlocks open on the thick door I shovedthatpart of me inside. Hinges squeal and pure longing floods through the cracks, reminding me what I was made for.

Connection. Bond. Pack.

The words float up from that awakening place, terrifying in their power to destroy everything I've fought not to become.

Any omega who hopes is an omega who is chained, yet my skin crawls with the need to be touched. Their skin on mine. To share body heat. To merge our scents in my nest of soft things, saturated with all our scents. I want their purrs to vibrate through me as we burrow in darkness under soft materials. For their hardness to balance my soft parts. For their scent to become part of me.

To be surrounded by them.

To be filled by them. Cocks. Knots. Seed.

Everything.

The freshly woken part hisses with anticipation. She wants her mates and sees nothing wrong with demanding they give her everything. The choice between my wants and needs are stripped from me when warm wetness seeps between my thighs. I’m caught in the frozen cage of my body as fresh honeysuckle blooms on sharp ozone around me. The pure notes of my scent signal a re-awakening. The side of me I fought into hibernation. The part of me I broke for survival.

A deep growl vibrates from Soren's chest. His eyes are dilated, the black devouring the chocolate. My appetite vanishes, replaced by a traitorous desire to lean into that sound rather than flee from it. The restraint in their rigid postures costs them—I can see it in the white-knuckle grip Phoenix has on the counter, in the muscle jumping in Soren's jaw.

Run.

Now. Before it’s too late.

I push the half-eaten soup away. “I’m going back to my room. Don’t follow me.”

And like the prey I am, I back through the doorway, keeping my eyes locked on the largest predators in the room before I spin, bolt up the stairs and dive under the blankets on my bed that offer me no real protection. My heart pounds, not just from exertion but because the most dangerous predator in this house isn't them.

It's the omega inside me, waking up and wanting things I can't afford.

Chapter Fourteen

Emma

Soren knocks on my door an hour later. I'm wrapped burrito-style in my bed, watching the view from the window where steam curls off the hot spa outside in ghostly fingers against the night sky. His scent seeps under the door. Not just the basic markers of creamy sandalwood I noticed before, but complex layers that tell me more than I want to know. Concern ripples through the sweetish notes. Guilt threads through the woody base. Protectiveness circles the edges.

“Emma? Are you okay?”

I hold my breath, feigning sleep, though my heart hammers so loudly I'm certain he can hear it through the door. Eventually, his footsteps retreat down the hall, each one echoing hisreluctance.

Sleep refuses to come. My body is electrified, my skin too tight. I’m too aware of the texture of the blankets, the changing patterns of moonlight across the floor, the bond marks on my neck pulsing with emotions not my own.

The door I can usually keep shut remains cracked open, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get it closed.

My eyes are grainy as I watch the security patrol change. Asher appears on the grounds below, stalking the perimeter. His shoulders hunch against invisible weight as he paces the same route over and over, occasionally stopping to stare up at my window.

I roll away, pressing my face into the pillow, but it doesn't help. His emotions simmer hotter now, clawing at him from cracks that grow wider. Weaker. I feel everything he does, just another shitty gift of a one-sided bond. Guilt. Protectiveness. Longing. Determination. Alongside Asher's feelings, are the Carmichael pack's bonds bleeding into me to poison my blood.

The sky changes from black to charcoal to pearl as dawn approaches. My stomach growls in protest of the half-eaten soup, but the thought of facing any of these alphas is too much.

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