Page 77 of Chain Me Knot

I can’t help but hope she’ll return later with salt on her skin and sand on her toes again. The perfect excuse to slide her slowly into another warm, relaxing bath.

The vivid image sparks immediate heat racing straight down my spine, pooling low and hot inside me. I shift in my chair, adjusting my jeans in vain. Gods, it's almost absurd how hard I always am around her, but I can't even bring myself to care. Not when every longing look, every hesitant touch from Emma says trust, warmth, and hope. Each innocent gesture invites me further into sweet torment and careful anticipation.

And I wouldn't trade this exquisite torture for anything.

“Hey, Soren, get that look off your face,” Phoenix mutters across the table, pointing his fork at me. “We can all see exactly where your mind went. Just so you know, if she comes back sandy and salty again, I'm going to be the one to bathe her this time.”

I stare at him for a split second before the sheer intensity etched on Phoenix’s normally easygoing face forces laughter to erupt from me.

“Is that right?” I manage, shaking my head with genuine amusement. “And you think that’s your call?”

Phoenix scowls, crossing his arms. “Tell me I’m wrong. You got your turn already. I watched you come out of that bathroom last night looking ridiculously damn pleased. This next time it's me and only me.”

“This is not a competition. We all respect her choice—whatever and whoever she chooses. As it should be.” The confident, easy grace behind his statement settles heavily in the air, smoothing our banter into quiet determination.

“Of course. I just wanted to be next.” Phoenix is clearly crushed, shoulders sagging as he sighs, head shaking slightly in resigned defeat.

“I get it. But did either of you catch that new note in her scent just now? It’s different to heat spikes. Stronger. More complex. I’m still hard and she’s not even in the room. I think her body is preparing for heat,” I say.

Phoenix straightens, his playful resignation gone in an instant. “I scented it, too but I was scared to even hope. Her body blocked those cycles after everything she endured. If she's really approaching a true heat cycle, that's...”

“More than biology.” I nod. “If she's heading into a real heat, it means she feels safe around us. Secure enough emotionally, physically, to allow her body to relax enough to fully awaken. She’s healing.”

A charged silence fills the space between us as we absorb that truth. It's monumental. A victory we weren't sure she'd ever reach.

“This is good. Better than good. It means what we're doing—giving her control, building trust—is working. She's not just surviving. She's thriving.,” Asher says.

Tension coils through me because when she goes into heat, she’ll be even more vulnerable. We’ll have to ensure she’s safe and, given the threats circling around us, that task will be tricky. But she’s ours to protect no matter what situation we’re in. “We’ll keep a close eye on her. With the danger we're already in, hiding out, her heat will add another layer of vulnerability, of intensity.”

Asher pins us with a serious stare. “We stay aware, and ready.”

“So worth it,” Phoenix breathes out, gratitude and fierce protectiveness radiating from him. “To see her finally coming out from under everything she endured.”

Asher nods, eyes steady, jaw tight with purpose. “She deserves this. And, whatever happens, we'll keep her safe.”

Our pack bond thrums with quiet agreement. This is the real power of an omega. She’s our center. Our heart. She weaves us together and makes us stronger. She’s also the woman we all love, who is finally beginning to flourish between us. Nothing, not Pack Carmichael, nor her trauma, nor even our own hangups, will keep us apart.

Chapter Thirty

Emma

The beach was extraordinary this morning. Beautifully windswept and wild from the storm. The rough sea had claimed the shore overnight and left its fierce mark behind. A completely different landscape from yesterday's soft, sunny warmth greeted Phoenix and me. Scattered piles of driftwood carved smooth by waves littered the waterline, and tangled sea grass swept in graceful arcs across the sand.

Phoenix was right. Last night's storm changed everything and each step I took with him brought some new treasure. I found a small, softly tinted shell in shades of pink and creamy white lodged halfway in the damp sand and pulled it free.

“It's perfect!” I glanced up at Phoenix, not ableto hide my smile.

“Perfect enough to be featured in this exclusive collection?” His answering grin brightened his handsome, windswept features as he held out my jar. I wasn't sure which was better, my new shell or his smile. They were equally beautiful.

I placed my prize among the vibrant shells we had already gathered. The soft clink of it slipping into the jar filled me with quiet joy and satisfaction.

Walking beside Phoenix felt…right. Easy. Even as our feet sank into shifting sand, muscles unaccustomed to the physical exertion burned with the strain, I found warmth and comfort at his side. Awareness prickled along my skin whenever he looked my way, each accidental brush of his shoulder or soft lingering glance sending warmth pooling deliciously low inside me. I ached for him to kiss me again. And more. Something deeper, something tentative bloomed between us, simmering and unstoppable. The pulse was fierce, as gentle as his smile and as inviting as those blue eyes every time he glanced my way.

But he hadn't kissed me again. Instead, we simply walked together along the windswept beach, and we talked. Just talked. Until finally he must’ve sensed my weariness, concern shadowing his gaze. “Let's head back. You've walked far enough today, Tough Girl.”

My heart was lighter, happier than it had been in so long; right until the instant we stepped back into the kitchen.

Soren and Asher hunch over their laptops at the table, their broad shoulders tense, expressions severe as they discuss something between themselves. Reality comes crashing quietly down around me once more, dampening my earlier joy.

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