Page 84 of The Knotheads Next Door
For once, we're all on the same page.
I lift Rowan effortlessly, cradling her against my chest. She burrows closer, seeking comfort, seeking scent, seeking what I've been too stubborn to fully offer until now.
"She's ours," I growl, the declaration slipping out unbidden as her mother steps forward.
The woman halts, something like understanding dawning in her eyes. "Take care of her," she says softly. "We'll... we'll talk when she's ready."
I don't acknowledge her, too focused on Rowan, on getting her somewhere safe, somewhere private. Away from prying eyes and well-meaning interference.
Wells leads the way through the crowd, his authoritative presence parting festival-goers like Moses with the Red Sea. Theo flanks us, his normally gentle demeanor replaced by watchful vigilance, a barrier between Rowan's vulnerability and the outside world.
We reach Wells's SUV, the largest of our vehicles. I slide into the back seat with Rowan still in my arms, unwilling to let goeven for the short drive home. She makes a small, distressed sound when I try to settle her beside me, so instead I keep her in my lap, her face tucked against my neck where my scent is strongest.
"What about her mother?" Theo asks as he climbs into the passenger seat. "Should one of us stay and talk to her?"
"Later," Wells says, starting the engine. "Rowan's the priority right now."
His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, a silent communication passing between us. For once, there's no challenge there, no competition. Just shared concern, shared purpose.
Rowan stirs, lifting her head slightly. "M'sorry," she mumbles. "Didn't mean to... cause trouble."
"You're not trouble," I tell her, gentler than I knew I could be. "You're pack."
The word slips out naturally, though we've never discussed it, never defined whatever this is growing between the four of us. But it feels right. True in a way I can't deny anymore.
Her eyes widen slightly, awareness breaking through the heat haze. "No, I'm not," she protests weakly. "I'm temporary. Five more days and I'm gone, remember?"
The reminder stings, but I push past it. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, we need to get your heat under control. Theo?"
He turns in his seat, doctor mode engaging despite the alpha pheromones he's pumping out... and the fact that he’s a doctor of veterinary medicine. "Her temperature is elevated, but not dangerously so. The emotional stress likely triggered a secondary surge. It happens sometimes with first heats, especially in cases of late presentation."
"Options?" Wells asks, driving with focused precision, faster than his usual careful pace.
"Omega clinic in Dixon," Theo suggests. "It's about an hour away. They'll have medical-grade suppressants, cooling systems—
"
"No," Rowan interrupts, her voice stronger than before. "No clinics. No strangers."
A tense silence fills the car, the implications of her refusal hanging in the air between us. If not a clinic, then...
"Rowan," Theo says gently, "if you don't want professional medical help, we need to know what you do want. What you need."
She shivers in my arms, another wave of heat visibly washing through her. Her scent spikes, sweet and desperate, calling to something primal in all of us. The car fills with answering alpha pheromones, three distinct scents harmonizing in response to her need.
"I want..." she starts, then stops, conflict clear in her expression. Always fighting, always resisting, even now. "I need..."
"It's okay," I murmur against her hair. "Whatever you need. Just tell us."
She takes a shuddering breath. "Please help me," she finally whispers, the admission clearly costing her. "But... this doesn't change anything. I'm still leaving when the month is up. This is just... biology. Necessity."
Something in my chest twists painfully at her words, but I push it aside. She needs us now. The rest can wait.
I press my forehead to hers, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "Then why does it feel like it changes everything?"
Her eyes meet mine, vulnerable in a way I've never seen before. No walls, no defenses, just Rowan—scared and wantingand finally, finally stopping the endless fight against her own nature.
"I don't know," she admits, so quietly I almost miss it. "I don't know anything anymore."
