Page 104 of Knot So Sweet
Someone needs to be responsible.
I'm sitting on the floor, back pressed to the wall. The plaster feels cool through my thin t-shirt, grounding me. My jeans are wrinkled, stained with coffee I spilled sometime yesterday. Dark brown against faded denim. The shirt has seen better days, stretched out and damp with sweat that dried and dampened again. Haven't showered since this began. Haven't eaten much either, too focused on keeping everyone else alive.
Same as always.
Take care of everyone. Ignore yourself.
Outside, the storm shifts. Wind no longer screaming, just gusting now. Each burst rattles the old window frames. Snow still falls but lighter, flakes drifting instead of pelting. Through the glass, I glimpse gray sky instead of solid white. Dawn approaches. The storm breaks.
Right on schedule. Three days. Most heats last three days without suppressants.
This one nears its end.
My chest tightens at the thought. Pressure builds behind my ribs. Relief mixed with something else. Something that tastes like disappointment even though I know it shouldn't.
She bonded to Xaden and Garrick. Bears their marks, their claims. Smells like them now, pack scent woven through hervanilla and honey until you can't separate individual notes. Coffee and burnt sugar mixing with sweetness until it becomes just us.
She doesn't need me. Doesn't need a third alpha cluttering pack dynamics.
My medical bag sits beside me, supplies neatly organized. The leather worn smooth from years of use. Bandages. Antiseptic. Pain medication. Electrolyte packets I've been mixing into her water. Everything she might need.
Everything except what I want to give.
I check my watch. Six AM. The numbers glow faintly in dim light. Been monitoring her sleep cycle, timing the waves. She's due for another one soon. The final peak before heat breaks completely.
Last chance.
The thought makes my hands clench into fists. Coffee sloshes in the mug, threatening to spill.
Violet shifts in the nest. Small movement, rolling onto her back. Blankets fall away from her shoulders, revealing bare skin and those two marks. She wears one of my shirts now, gray cotton drowning her curves. Someone must have dressed her after Garrick's knot went down.
Taking care of her. Like always.
Her breathing changes. Deepens. Each exhale longer than the last. I watch her eyelids flutter, telltale signs of consciousness returning. Her nose twitches, scenting even before she fully wakes. Drawing in air and processing what she smells.
Then her eyes open. Brown and clear and locked on me immediately.
"Liam." My name comes out rough, sleep-thick. Her voice sounds scratchy, raw from screaming. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"Few hours." I shift, joints cracking from too long in one position. My knees protest, stiff and aching. "Making sure everyone's okay."
"Everyone." She sits up slowly, carefully. Each movement deliberate. Garrick and Xaden don't stir, both deep in post-bonding sleep. "You mean making sure I'm okay while ignoring yourself."
"I'm fine."
"You look exhausted." She crawls out of the nest now, moving toward me. The hardwood creaks under her weight. "When did you last sleep? Really sleep?"
"Don't need much." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
"Liar." She settles beside me, back against the wall. The plaster feels cool, same temperature as where I lean. Close enough that our shoulders touch. Her scent hits me full force, vanilla and honey mixed with Xaden's coffee and Garrick's burnt sugar. Pack. "You've been taking care of everyone. Who takes care of you?"
The question cracks something in my chest. Sharp pain that steals my breath. Because nobody takes care of the caretaker. That's not how it works.
"I have the medical training," I say quietly. My voice sounds hollow. "Taking care of people is what I do."
"You're also an alpha. With needs. Wants." Her hand finds mine, fingers lacing together. Her palm radiates warmth, soft against my rough skin. "When do you get to have what you want?"
"After everyone else is taken care of."
