Page 92 of Knot Gonna Lie
“The hydroponic bay finally yielded.” My tone stayed even, though pride stirred. Those tomatoes had taken months—saved for something that mattered.
Conversation found its rhythm. Xavier spoke of navigation runs before joining us, his walls easing notch by notch. Stella recounted her security training, making even Jaxom laugh with her impression of her drill sergeant. The stories wove together, threads binding us tighter.
But beneath it all, awareness thrummed.
Her hand found mine under the table, fingers tracing veins with idle curiosity. Electricity raced up my arm, pooled hot in my chest where her bond lived. Through it came whispers—contentment layered over anticipation, desire banking like coals waiting for air.
Luca’s purr rumbled too low for most ears, but I felt it through the table. Jaxom’s fingers kept brushing his fresh mark, as if he needed proof it existed.
“The villa’s stocked,” Xavier said abruptly. “Whatever you need for…” His hand gestured vaguely toward us. “It’s available.”
Heat crawled up my neck. Our captain discussing heat preparations felt like crossing an invisible boundary, acknowledging what we all knew approached.
“Seth’s handled everything,” Luca said, hand resting at her lower back, the possession in the touch unmistakable. “Supplies, nutrition, environmental controls.”
“Always prepared, our Seth.” Tobias’s teasing held affection. “Bet med school didn’t cover this.”
He wasn’t wrong. No textbook prepared you for this—pack bonds, the way her impending heat made my blood sing, the way instinct stripped me bare.
“We should go.” Elara’s words came sudden, cheeks flushed beyond wine. “I need—” She stopped, pressing her lips together as a visible shiver ran through her.
The temperature spike hit my awareness like a flare. Point-nine degrees in thirty seconds. Her eyes carried that glassy quality that preceded heat onset, focus turning inward as her body prepared for its ancient purpose.
“Of course.” I was already standing. The others followed, instinct immediate. “You need rest.”
Jaxom’s hand found her elbow, steadying her as she swayed slightly. The simple touch made her lean into him, melting into his touch, seeking skin contact through the barrier of clothes. Another symptom—heightened touch receptivity, the need for pack presence growing exponentially.
“Thank you for dinner.” She managed to address the table, though her voice carried distraction. “For everything. You’ve all been—” Another shiver, this one making her curl toward Luca. “Family. You’ve been family.”
Maia stood, crossing to embrace her carefully. “You are family. Pack or not, you’re ours.”
Even the mated pairs shifted, biology tugged toward her. Xavier alone kept distance, though he lifted his glass in quiet salute—his version of acceptance.
We guided her from the hall as one. Corridors felt too narrow for the charge in the air. Her skin radiated heat now, a fever my hands could feel from inches away. Six hours until full onset, by my estimate. Enough time to settle her. Enough to prepare, to—
“Need you.” Her words came breathless against Luca’s throat where she’d pressed her face. “All of you. Please.”
The plea shot through us like lightning. Jaxom made a broken sound. My steps faltered, blood thick with answering need.
“We’re here,” Luca promised, voice dropping into alpha register, command wrapped in devotion. “Always here.”
The nest appeared before us like salvation. She’d expanded it over the past days, adding blankets and pillows until it dominated the cabin. The construction followed no logical pattern, yet achieved perfect comfort—soft walls high enough to create security, entrance positioned for easy defense, sight lines clear to monitor approach.
She dragged us inside, hands already tugging at clothes.
“Too many layers.” Frustration thickened her voice as she buried herself in Jaxom’s chest. “Need to feel you.”
I caught her hands, forcing steadiness. “Temperature first.”
“I’m burning.” She turned those gold-flecked eyes on me, pupils blown wide. “Have been since dinner. Since this morning.”
The words stopped my hands, my heart.
“Let him fuss,” Luca murmured, amusement warm in the bond. “It’s how he shows love.”
Love. The word lodged in my chest.
I pressed my hand to her forehead, confirming what I already knew. Thirty-eight point two degrees. Elevated but not dangerous. Her pulse raced under my fingers when I checked her wrist, rapid but strong.
