Page 47 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Thirty-One

Holden

Q uinn’s laughter travels up the stairs as I step into the hall to grab a fresh towel from the laundry basket and almost trip over Chloe.

I thought she’d be in her office at this time of the day, but instead, she crouches in front of the living room couch with her face buried in a throw pillow.

Her deep inhale reaches me from where I stand at the linen closet, and it stops me in my tracks.

She holds her breath, then drops the pillow and moves on to my hoodie, draped over the back of the sofa. She lifts it, sniffs the collar, and hums with happiness, like she solved some secret equation. The hoodie gets tucked under her arm .

“That’s mine.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and my cheeks flush when she startles.

But she doesn’t put it back. If anything, she’s huffy at the interruption.

“It smells like you made pancakes while wearing it.” Her hands tighten on the hoodie as she lifts it to her nose and breathes in again. “Why do I crave cake now?”

“Probably because my pheromones have a vanilla base?” I set down the towel as she rounds the ottoman, scanning for more treasures.

She grabs Blake’s ancient flannel, half-buried in a basket of clean laundry, and then Nathaniel’s favorite throw pillow for movie nights. By the time she steps out of the living room, her arms are overflowing with the pack’s belongings.

Quinn comes through the doorway from the main house, and she freezes when she spots Chloe’s armload. “Are you moving out, Aunt Chloe?”

Chloe’s grip tightens on the pile. “No, princess. Just housekeeping.”

Satisfied with the answer, Quinn shrugs and vanishes.

Chloe pivots to head toward her room, but pauses when she spots me still standing in the hall. My pulse jumps. Her scent, always so floral, now carries a new note of honey sweetness that has my mouth watering and my jaw aching.

With an unsteady breath, I step backward to open the way to her bedroom.

With a slow blink at me, she waddles into her bedroom under her burden and closes the door with a soft click.

I linger, the new scent drifting from under the door. The effect on me tightens my chest, and a low, persistent hum comes from the bond that leaves me confused about what I was doing before now.

I should go down and pull the bread from the oven, or finish folding towels, or do anything else, but my feet don’t move.

After a minute of hesitation, I crack the door open.

Chloe kneels in the center of the room, surrounded by a nest of blankets and pillows arranged in careful layers. My hoodie lies balled in the corner, and her frog onesie rests folded beside Blake’s old camp quilt.

She stretches out along the outer curve, testing the boundaries with small adjustments. Every movement holds a feline grace, even the way she reaches to tug the edge of a blanket higher on her shoulders .

I hover in the doorway, reluctant to break the quiet, but she senses me.

“Holden,” she says, soft as the fleece under her cheek.

“Yeah?”

She peers over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. “I just needed somewhere that reminds me of all of you.”

My throat closes up, and my hands fist at my sides.

She pats the space beside her. “You can come in, if you want.”

Heart pounding, I step inside. The warm air carries the layered pheromones of the pack, sweet and woody and citrus and smoke, all woven together. The scent of her Heat hovers just beneath, building like a summer storm.

“You good?” I kneel beside her. My hands want to reach out, but I’m not sure what she needs from me right now.

She rolls to her back, hair fanning out on the pillow. “I’m fine. I just…needed to feel close, you know?”

My throat thickens. “I do.”

She pulls my hoodie closer, rubs her face along the sleeve. “Are you going to lie down with me? ”

I swallow hard. “There’s bread in the oven, and I need to watch Quinn.”

She stretches and pulls Nathaniel’s pillow closer. “Okay. I’m going to nap for a bit, if that’s all right?”

“Of course it’s all right.” I reach out to tug a blanket over her and tuck in her toes. “Do you want anything from downstairs?”

“Maybe tea with honey later.”

“Okay.”

She drifts, eyes half-closed, and I leave her curled in the center of the nest she built from us.

By the time the others roll in, the sky outside the windows has darkened, and the counters in the kitchen are covered in snack foods.

I wipe down the counter for the third time and keep an ear on the front steps, waiting for the thud of boots hitting the wooden boards. Right on cue, the door swings open, letting in a cold draft and the chorus of voices from my bondmates.

I grab the basket I brought out and hurry to intercept them. “Give me your shirts.”

Blake’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well, good evening to you, too. ”

Nathaniel’s expression turns considering as his fingers move to the buttons on his dress shirt. “Care to share what’s happening with the rest of us?”

“You’ll see.” It’s not an answer, but I want everyone present.

Nathaniel shrugs out of his shirt and drops it into the basket. “Want the undershirt, too?”

Sweat darkens his tank top, so it will hold even more of his pheromones. “Yeah.”

I pass him a fresh shirt to put on.

Dominic’s nostrils flare as he turns toward the stairs. “Where’s Chloe?”

“In her room.”

That gets everyone’s attention.

Quinn comes in with Sprinkles by her side and Grady trailing behind her. Ever since the little girl found out Grady was Chloe’s book agent, she’d been showing him all of her books about her Detective Stardust and his magical magnifying glass horn.

Quinn catches the end of our conversation, and her little face scrunches with worry. “Is Aunt Chloe sick?”

“She’s fine,” I reassure her. “She’s nesting.”

Blake laughs, but quiets when he notices the seriousness of my expression. “As in, nesting -nesting?”

“She’s started one, but it can use some improvements.” I gesture at the basket. “If you want to donate, that is.”

“Wait for me. I have the perfect thing.” Dominic zips up the stairs, two at a time.

While he’s gone, Blake strips off his shirt and adds it to the basket.

Quinn clutches Sprinkles’ collar. “What’s nesting?”

“It’s when Omegas want to be closer to their pack,” Blake explains.

She frowns. “Why is everyone taking off their shirts?”

Blake accepts the fresh T-shirt I hold out to him and slips it on. “Because they hold our pheromones, which will make our Omega happy.”

“Okay.” Quinn tugs on the hem of her shirt. “Does it have to be this one? It’s my favorite, but if Aunt Chloe needs it...”

She’s not even old enough to produce pheromones, but her willingness to participate in something she doesn’t understand warms my heart.

Grady bends to catch her hand. “I t-think she’ll be f-fine with a different contribution. Want to go pick something f-from your room?”

Then he checks with me. “If it’s s-still early enough?”

“It should still be okay.” I pass the basket to Nathaniel. “Chloe should be up from her nap soon.”

“Okay!” She grabs his hand and tugs him toward the stairs. “We’ll find something good!”

I turn to Blake. “Help me with the snacks I prepared. Chloe will be hungry when she wakes.”

His arms go around my shoulders in a quick squeeze. “Good Alpha.”

The simple words light me up from the inside.

We gather the finger foods I made, designed for easy consumption without the need for refrigeration, and we all troop upstairs.

Dominic meets us in the hall outside Chloe’s room, the shirt he’d been wearing stacked on top of a dusky-purple knit blanket.

He hesitates, then adds them both to the basket.

This is our first time offering nest-items to an Omega, and we’re all nervous.

Nathaniel goes to his room and returns with the scarf he wears when the weather gets cold. “Not sure what else we’re supposed to give her.”

“Whatever reminds you of home,” I say .

Blake ducks into his room and returns with the pillow from his bed, adding it to the offerings.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Quinn comes rushing out of her room with a notebook in her hands. “Don’t forget us!”

Grady trails after with a handful of the gel pens that Chloe and Quinn both love. I hold out the basket for them to add the items to the top.

When one of the pens rolls off, Quinn picks it up and tucks it into the side. “Aunt Choe likes the pink ones best.”

Blake ruffles Quinn’s hair. “Good job, princess.”

Outside Chloe’s door, I set the basket down and knock before gesturing for everyone to step back to give Chloe space.

After a moment, the door cracks open, and her head pokes out, her pink hair mussed from sleep.

She spots the basket and scoots out into the hall, cocooned in my hoodie. Grabbing the offering, she drags it into her room. The door remains open, but we all hold back, waiting.

Nathaniel’s throw pillow from earlier comes sailing out into the hall, along with Blake’s flannel. A second later, the dusky purple blanket joins the rejects.

Dominic’s shoulders fall. “She hates it.”

But Blake shakes his head. “Give her a minute. ”

In a sudden burst, Chloe crawls back out into the hall, grabs Dominic’s blanket, and yanks it inside.

Nathaniel, who’s been observing the whole time, grins at Dominic. “Happy now?”

Dominic grins back, and we all relax.

When no new items join the rejects, we come closer to peek into Chloe’s bedroom.

The air inside holds the heavy fragrance of a garden in spring, thick with sweetness and a little wild. The nest has grown since this morning, and Chloe is a tangle of arms and legs in the center, her face buried in the folds of Dominic’s blanket.

“Are you up for company, sweet girl?” Blake rumbles.

Chloe’s head lifts, and she gives him a languid blink. “I’m hungry.”

“We brought snacks.” I lift the bag I carry, and Blake waves his, too.

Quinn peers up at me, then at the room, then at Chloe, then back to me. “Can I join the nest?”

Chloe scoots around, adjusting the borders. “Of course, princess. You’re pack.”

Quinn darts into the nest and nestles beside Chloe, who pulls her under an arm and hugs her tight. The two of them giggle, whispering, and the whole room takes on a peaceful hum .

Then Chloe frowns at us. “What are you waiting for? Bring me food.”

So we pile in, passing Chloe the snacks to have first dibs.

Nathaniel settles at the edge of the nest, reading emails and sipping tea.

Blake stretches out at the base, using the wall for support.

Dominic plucks one of his sketchbooks from a stack near Nathaniel’s quilted jackets by the bed and props it on his knees.

I wedge myself in next to Chloe, her head on my shoulder as she shares peanut butter and honey sandwiches with Quinn.

Grady hovers for a moment before murmuring, “I’ll take care of Sprinkles and feed him dinner.”

Backing out, he closes the door.

By full dark, Chloe’s room is a disaster. Pillows litter the floor, snack wrappers have colonized the lower blanket layers, and Quinn has built a secondary nest beneath the window. The air is syrupy with laughter and the endless churn of conversation.

Chloe, seated in the center of the nest, reads aloud from Quinn’s latest effort, a story about a girl with wings who defeats bullies by blowing them away with dragon breath.

She gives each character a different accent, cycling through them so fast that tears stream from Quinn’s eyes from giggling so hard.

Blake snorts so hard at the villain’s lines that he chokes on a gingersnap. “You should narrate your own books. Your fans would get a kick out of this.”

Dominic, who’s been sketching the whole time, flips his pad toward Quinn. “Behold, Princess Quinn the Brave.”

Quinn takes the page and hugs it to her chest. “That’s me!”

Chloe finishes the chapter and sets the notebook aside, her voice hoarse but happy. She sags back into the blankets, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Blake sprawls next to her, burying his face in her stomach. “You smell so good.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders with a happy hum.

Nathaniel, leaning on a stack of pillows, glances over at me. “You haven’t said much all night.”

I shrug, careful not to jostle Chloe where she rests against my shoulder. “I don’t need to. This is enough.”

He watches me for a moment, his face relaxed with contentment .

As the noise dies down. Chloe’s pheromones hover in the air, but they don’t spike into the overpowering bloom of Heat. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. For now, it’s a soft sweetness that makes us crave to stay close.

Quinn falls asleep first, curled with her head on Dominic’s thigh and a notebook clutched to her chest like a teddy bear. The rest of us drift in quiet darkness.

When Chloe’s breathing evens into sleep, I tuck the knitted blanket around her shoulders and let my own eyes close, content in the knowledge that this is everything I ever wanted.