Page 60 of Chain Me Knot

Asher sets everything down and flips open the wicker basket, pulling out a wide-brimmed sunhat. He steps closer to me and places it on my head, his fingers gentle as he adjusts the brim. “You'll burn otherwise,” he says softly, adjusting the strap under my chin so the wind won't steal it.

“I’ve brought everything we’ll need for breakfast, but your clothes are wet. Would you be more comfortable eating inside? We can always come back out,” Asher asks.

I weigh the options in my mind. My clothes are plastered to me, but the thought of going back inside doesn’t appeal. Not when I have sky and sun, sand and water to revel in. “I want to stay here forever. Live outside for the rest of my days if that's possible.”

Asher's chuckle is warm. “It's a perfect day for breakfast on the beach,” he says, though it's well into the afternoon thanks to the events of last night. “Even if we're a few meals behind schedule.”

Soren replaces my sodden towel with a warm, dry one and guides me to sit on the blanket as Soren and Phoenix unpack the basket. Container after container emerges. Fluffy scrambled eggs still steaming, crispy bacon, fresh fruit glistening with moisture, pastries that look like they came from a fancy bakery. There's orange juice in a glass bottle, coffee in a thermos, even small pots of jam and butter. The amount of food is staggering, and the preparation is amazing.

Asher arranges a plate with eggs, bacon, and fresh berries with considered moves, as though each morsel matters before handing me the heaped plate. Soren hands me silverware wrapped in a cloth napkin, while Phoenix pours juice into a tall glass.

The domesticity of it reminds me of breakfast with my parents, but... different. There's an underlying current that has nothing to do with parental care. These alphas want to provide for me, protect me, but also... possess me? No, that's not quite right. The way they move around me, anticipating needs I didn't know I had, speaks of something deeper than possession.

I focus on the bond, trying to understand. The Carmichael pack's toxic-waste anger still simmers in the background, but Asher's presence is…louder than theirs. It’s easy to discern his longing that doesn't demand, patience that doesn't expect reward, care that asks nothing in return. His concern wraps around me like a warm blanket, solid and unwavering.

“Pack Blackwood doesn't mess around,” Phoenix says, biting into a pastry. “This food is incredible.”

“Adrian's always had excellent taste. We're lucky they're on our side,” Soren says.

“Pack Blackwood?” I ask, curiosity overriding my usual reticence.

“Mira’s pack. They took Adrian’s family name,” Asher explains, his eyes soft as he watches me sample the eggs. That means if I were to decide to belong to this pack, I’d be Emma Mitchell. “This is one of their safe houses. They understand what it means to protect omegas. It’s part of the reason they started Pinnacle Therapeutics.”

Even locked up at Haven, I'd heard of Pinnacle. They make suppressants. The good kind, not the black-market stuff that makes omegas sick. Matthew, Derek, and James would argue about putting me on them, but ultimately decided against it. Their voices echo in my memory, cruel and dismissive. What was the point of owning an omega if not for their heats? It was the only thing we were good for. Just holes to fuck. Breeding stock.

Thank the gods I never became pregnant. It doesn’t bear thinking about what would have happened to me or my baby. I can’t imagine how my child would have been treated. The thought rises like bile, but lacks its usual strength. Their cruelty, their reduction of me to a biological function, says more about them than it ever did about me.

They're the ones so broken they feel powerful by hurting others.

They're the ones so empty they need to own people to feel whole.

I just never knew the difference until now.

I turn my gaze to the ocean, watching waves roll endlessly toward shore. Let the rhythm wash away old poison. I have the chance to choose how I react now. In this space, this moment, I have the power of choice.

The water doesn't care what designation I am.

The sun doesn't shine differently on omegas than alphas.

Nature knows no hierarchy.

Mira's words about the right alphas echo in my mind, and I can understand why she said that now. She’s strong and whole and happy. Everything the younger versions of ourselves always wanted to become. She found her other way of living. She found her new path. She’s walking her new future.

I filter sand through my fingers, reminding myself that this beach is real and not my imagination.

Things change.

I shift on the blanket, unable to find a comfortable position. The sun is warm on my skin, but something's missing. Some piece of contentment just out of reach.

“Come on. Use me as your chair.” Soren settles behind me, gathering me against him.

It takes a moment to lean back, but when I do, he’s steady. Solid. Warm. His sandalwood scent mingles with the salt air, and I draw it into my lungs. The sun warms my skin, my stomach is pleasantly full with food freely given, and the waves paint endless patterns on the shore. Soren's heartbeat is steady against my back, his arms loose enough that I could move if I wanted to.

I don't want to.

This could become my favorite way to exist. Surrounded by peace instead of pain, held instead of chained, choice instead of restriction.

The gentle rise and fall of Soren's chest behind me, the sound of Phoenix and Asher's quiet conversation, the endless thunder of the waves, all weave together. As I close my eyes, a whisper of hope unfurls within me, daring me to believe that I might actually find the freedom I’ve only been able to dream about.

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