Page 83 of The Knotheads Next Door
"Rowan, please," she tries again. "Your father—Pops—is here too. At the bed and breakfast near the lake. He wants to see you. To explain everything. James has offered to come too, if you're ready to meet him."
The thought of facing all of them—my parents, the man whose DNA I share but who remains a stranger—is overwhelming. I take a step back, shaking my head.
"No. Not now. Maybe... maybe not ever."
Pain flashes across her face, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when my own pain has been building for a lifetime,compounded by lies and omissions and well-intentioned mistakes.
"I love you," she says softly, and the simple truth of it is what finally breaks me.
"I know," I admit, tears spilling over despite my best efforts. "That's what makes it worse."
I turn and flee, not caring how it looks, not caring about anything except getting away from the crowded festival, away from curious eyes and my mother's pain and the complicated presence of three alphas who've somehow become essential to my equilibrium in just a few short weeks.
I make it to the edge of the square before the dizziness overwhelms me. The world tilts, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. Not now. Not here. But my body has other ideas, the combination of receding heat and emotional turmoil pushing me past my limits.
Strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. The scent of pine and sawdust envelops me, familiar and steadying in a world suddenly spinning out of control.
Jasper.
I should pull away. Maintain my distance. Protect what's left of my independence and dignity.
Instead, I collapse against him, burying my face in his chest as tears come in earnest now.
"I've got you," he murmurs, the words rumbling through his chest against my ear. "I've got you, Rowan."
And for once, I don't fight it. I don't insist I'm fine, I don't pull away, I don't maintain the careful barriers I've built over a lifetime of self-reliance.
For once, I let myself be held. I let someone else be strong when I can't. I let myself need and be needed in return.
I'm so tired of fighting. Tired of running. Tired of pretending I don't want exactly what Jasper's offering—what all three of them have been offering in their own ways.
Security. Belonging. Pack. Family.
As Jasper's arms tighten around me, I make a choice I never thought I'd make.
I surrender.
Chapter 26
Jasper
Fighting my instincts is all that I know. Fighting the rage that simmered beneath the surface when my mother left. Fighting the distrust that took root when Julia abandoned me. Fighting the walls I built to protect myself from ever being vulnerable again.
But with Rowan trembling in my arms, her scent sharp with distress and sweet with heat, those walls are crumbling faster than I can rebuild them.
"Jasper," she whimpers, her face pressed against my chest, fingers clutching my shirt like she's drowning and I'm the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't—it hurts—"
Her body burns against mine, fever-hot and shaking. The remnants of her heat, triggered again by stress and emotional upheaval. Her scent fills my lungs with each breath, clouding my judgment, stirring the alpha in me to a possessive frenzy I've never experienced before.
My control, already fragile after days of her heat permeating the house, finally snaps.
A growl rumbles from my chest, primal and claiming. I pull her closer, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back.
Mine, my alpha howls. Ours.
"We need to get her out of here," I manage, my voice rough with restraint that's rapidly failing. The festival crowds around us are starting to notice, curious eyes turning our way. Rowan's mother hovers nearby, concern and confusion warring on her face.
"Car's this way," Theo says, suddenly beside us. His expression is calm but his scent betrays him—alpha protective pheromones sharp with worry. Behind him, Wells approaches, his usual composed demeanor slipping just enough that I can see the tension in his jaw, the tightness around his eyes.
