Page 37 of Chain Me Knot

I scent Phoenix before he knocks on the door.

“Rise and shine,” his voice carries through the wood, forced cheerfulness barely masking worry. “I come bearing breakfast. Dr. Chen will have my balls if we don't feed you properly.”

I grip the blankets tight as dark coffee winds under the door because I want those balls.

And the alpha attached to them.

The thought sends a bolt of fear through me so searing I’m burning alive.

“I'm leaving a tray outside your door,” he continues after my silence. “Even if you don’t want to come out, please eat something, Tough Girl.”

His footsteps retreat. I wait until I'm certain he's gone before creeping to the door, pressing my ear against it to confirm the hallway is empty. My stomach growls again, demanding attention, but when I think of eating my stomach churns.

I scurry back to the bed and pull blankets over my head and squeeze my eyes shut. I need more time. Time to equalize my reactions to these alphas. Time to strengthen my resolve. Time to remember that no matter how good they smell, no matter how different they seem, trusting alphas only leads to chains.

I might be out of a basement, but if Asher, Soren and Phoenix lose against Pack Carmichael, I’m going on a one-way trip back to my chains. It might have been easier if they’d never found me.

I might have found my eternal beach by now.

I might finally have peace.

I might be free.

I drift in and out of uneasy consciousness, each attempt at sleep disrupted by waves of emotion that aren't mine. Alpha dominance swirls through me like competing tides, pulling me in different directions until I'm sick with it.

By midday, hunger claws at my insides and fatigue makes my limbs leaden. Soren knocks again with lunch. Phoenix comes an hour later with a drink and promises of getting anything I might want. Each time, I curl tighter beneath my blankets as their concerned scents filter under the door.

What's the point of eating? Of rebuilding strength? The Carmichaels have legal claim over me. Papers. Contracts. Ownership rights. My temporary reprieve will end at tomorrow's hearing and my life will be pain and darkness again.

Despite what these new alphas believe, despite their determination to protect me, I won't let them destroy their lives. I'm not worth their careers, their freedom, their futures.

Worse, now that the door inside me has unlocked, familiar heat simmers in my blood, the first stirrings of my omega biology reawakening after months of shutdown. It terrifies me more than any threat of return to the basement because it's only a matter of time before my body switches back into full omega mode and biology doesn't care about abuse or consent. It only recognizes the marks on my skin and the connections forced into my soul.

The Carmichaels will win tomorrow. They have the law on their side. They are rich. They have everything except my willing submission, and that's never mattered to them anyway.

The day drifts past. I memorize the way light plays across the grass, how shadows shift and elongate with the sun's movement. I count birds, track security patrols, follow clouds across the blue expanse of sky. I take in everything I can, storing these images like treasures to pull out in the inevitable darkness.

The security patrols change. Soren replaces Asher who walks back to the house, feet heavy after hours walking the grounds. Hours later, Phoenix takes over and Soren passes over the patio to enter the house via the kitchen doors. I don’t miss the constant glances at my window. The lines etched into their faces and the continuing weariness in their bodies.

The sun dips lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink before finally surrendering to twilight. Fairy lights flicker on around the patio, casting a soft golden glow across the space. The pool becomes a mirror, reflecting the lights like stars trapped in water. It's beautiful. Peaceful. A glimpse of another world.

My body betrays me. Sweat beads on my skin. Slight cramps grow stronger, twisting my insides, sharp and insistent. Slick seeps from me, sticking my thighs together, soaking through my borrowed sweatpants to the sheet beneath me. I squeeze my eyes shut and scream into the mattress, fighting back tears that don’t change a damn thing.

Heat. The first stages of it, at least. My system is coming back online after months of shutdown, triggered by stress, by fear, by the presence of alphas my body recognizes as mates even if my mind rebels against the idea.

A knock at the door makes me jump. Phoenix's voice filters through, strained with worry.

“Emma, please. You need to eat something. It's been over a day.” A pause. “I know we said this wouldn’t happen but if you don't answer, I'm going to come in. Just to make sure you're all right.”

Panic claws up my throat. I can't let him see me like this. Can't let him smell the heat pheromones saturating the air. Can't risk what his alpha instincts might push him to do in response.

I pull back the blanket, careful not to let my scent puff into the air too much. “I need space. Please, just... go away.”

Silence. Then a soft thud, like he's resting his forehead against the door. “I'll go. For now. But Emma... shutting us out won't change what happened. What will happen tomorrow. We can fight this, but you must let us help. Let us be here for you.”

My eyes burn. I know they’ll try, but I won’t survive their brand of help.

“Please. Just go away,” I say.

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