Page 56 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chloe

W e follow Blake through the front door of the Homestead, Sprinkles trotting at Quinn’s side.

Holden appears in the archway to the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Quinn runs to him without a word, latching onto the hem of his sweater, glancing between her mother and the rest of us.

Dominic steps up beside me, while Nathaniel moves to stand beside Blake, leaving no member of our pack alone or without support.

Mrs. Reynolds enters last, a calm presence at Sadie’s back. I haven’t met her before, but the quiet strength in her posture tracks with everything Blake’s told me about the years she has spent caring for his sister and Quinn .

Sadie hesitates just inside, hugging her elbows as she takes in the open layout of the room. With shaky fingers, she tugs the beanie from her head, revealing dark roots that match Blake’s brown locks. She stuffs the hat into the pocket of her loose jacket before slipping it off.

No one moves, and the silence stretches as she shifts her weight and stares at the floor, uncertain.

I step forward first, crossing to her with my hand out. “Hi, Sadie. My name’s Chloe. Welcome to the Homestead.”

Her cool, dry palm slides against mine. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

Her head tilts slightly as she takes in my pink hair, then the Marks peeking above my collar.

“Can I hang up your jacket for you?” I gesture to the garment she clutches with both hands.

“Yes, thank you.” When she passes it over, I catch a hint of apple from her, and my heart clenches at how much it reminds me of Blake.

As I turn to the coatrack by the door, Blake clears his throat. “You remember Nat.”

Sadie turns toward the blond Alpha. “Good to see you again, Nathaniel.”

He dips his chin in greeting. “You’re looking well.”

“And you might recognize Dominic.” Blake gestures to the slender man. “From some of the networking parties you used to go to.”

Blake’s features harden at the words, and a ripple of anger comes through our bond, though it’s not directed at our bondmate.

Dominic steps forward to shake Sadie’s hand. “I believe our paths crossed a few times, though I was relegated to the younger social circles at the time.”

Sadie’s brow furrows as she studies his handsome face. “The Sterling, right?”

“Only in name now.” He winks at her before stepping back to wrap an arm around my waist.

“And this is Holden.” Blake extends a hand to him, and he comes forward with Quinn still clinging to his side. “He’s the one who made the delicious lunch you’ll be enjoying.”

Sadie bobs her head at him. “Nice to meet you.”

Blake moves forward, a hand at the small of his sister’s back. “Let’s sit down.”

We all settle in the sitting area in front of the fireplace, with Mrs. Reynolds taking a seat at one of the small side tables, separate, but close enough if Sadie needs her.

Quinn stays close to Holden, wedged in between his body and the arm of the sofa.

Sadie gives her daughter a strained smile. “Are you enjoying living here, Quinn? Do you miss the city?”

Quinn tugs at a loose thread on her sock, not answering.

Blake settles on the arm of Sadie’s chair, his bulk crowding the space. “We’re glad you could make it up to the island.”

“The boat ride was fun.” Sadie clears her throat. “We spotted some seals swimming alongside us for a bit.”

Quinn’s head lifts a fraction. “Uncle Kyle showed me where they sleep on the rocks.”

The silence stretches between them, broken only by the tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Holden breaks the tension, rising from the sofa, and Quinn scoots over to cuddle at my side. “Can I get anyone a drink? Water? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be wonderful.” Mrs. Reynolds straightens her spine. “Black, please.”

Sadie bites at her chapped lip. “Water for me.”

Holden disappears into the kitchen, and the clatter of mugs on the countertop drifts out, followed by the rush of water from the tap.

“Your home is beautiful.” Sadie takes in the room again. “So much natural light.”

“Dom designed it.” Blake straightens slightly, pride in his expression.

“It was the first structure we built. There are fifteen rooms we can rent out at the Homestead, in addition to the cabins you saw being built down by the water. Phase Two will have more cabins for guests who want to glamp or who enjoy hiking more than playing in the water.”

“It’s lovely.” Sadie fidgets with the sleeve of her coat. “Quinn, Kyle says you caught a fish?”

Quinn’s face brightens a fraction. “A salmon. It was huge . We ate it for dinner last night.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.” Sadie leans forward, interest sparked. “Did you cook it yourself?”

“Uncle Holden helped me.” Quinn perks up. “We made it with lemon and dill.”

Holden returns with a tray of drinks and catches the end of the conversation. “She’s quite the chef in training.”

Sadie’s throat works as she swallows. “You always wanted to help Mrs. Reynolds in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Reynolds clears her throat. “She was always a good little helper.”

Quinn beams at the compliment before she remembers herself and draws back, expression shuttering.

Holden passes out the drinks and sets a plate of shortbread on the coffee table, then comes around to sit beside me .

Sadie’s attention shifts to me, lingering again on the Marks visible on my neck. I resist the urge to touch the raised edges of the bite where her brother claimed me. “Blake mentioned you just joined the pack?”

“Yes.” My fingers curl around my water glass. “We registered our intent a few weeks ago and finalized it earlier this week.”

Holden’s palm slides over the back of my neck, beneath my hair, and Dominic reaches out to take my hand. “It’s a true bond.”

Wistfulness flickers across Sadie’s face. “Congratulations.”

Her sincerity catches me off guard. “Thank you.”

Blake shifts on the arm of the chair, his weight making the wood creak. “Chloe’s a writer. Her best friend and agent, Grady, is also living here for now. You’ll meet him at lunch.”

“A writer?” Sadie’s eyebrows lift. “What do you write?”

“Romantic fantasy novels.” I brace for the dismissive reaction I often get about how romance isn’t a real genre, but Sadie surprises me.

“With happy endings?”

“Always.” I hold her eyes. “I believe everyone deserves them. ”

She nods, as if confirming something to herself. “Good. Quinn enjoys stories with happy endings.”

Quinn perks up. “Aunt Chloe helps me write my own stories.”

“Does she?” Sadie’s expression softens, genuine interest lighting her features. “What kind of stories do you write?”

Quinn, never one to give up a chance to talk about her stories, bounces on her cushion. “Mysteries about Detective Stardust, who has a magic magnifying glass for a horn that helps him solve crimes.”

“Detective Stardust is a unicorn,” I add when Sadie appears confused. “The newest one is about an escaped crab.”

Quinn giggles. “Uncle Kyle says it wasn’t a crab, but I’m going to prove he’s wrong!”

“I’m sure you will.” Sadie touches her chest over her heart. “I’d love to read them sometime.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, lightening by degrees. Quinn stops fidgeting and sits up straighter, though she still keeps her distance from her mother.

Sadie stares at her daughter, not with the weepy regret I half expected, but with distance in her gaze, as though she’s studying Quinn through glass, close enough to see, but unable to reach .

I’ve seen the same expression in the mirror, back when I thought I would never belong to a pack again.

When Quinn reaches for a cookie, Sadie tracks the movement, imprinting it as if it might be all she gets. Her fingers twitch in her lap, pinching at her pant leg.

Across the room, Blake catches my eye. Gratitude softens his features. I know I was uncertain about being here for this, but I’m glad I didn’t hide. Pack shows up for the hard parts. We make room, even when it hurts.

“Quinn,” I say, keeping it light, “why don’t you show your mom the drawing you made of your fishing trip with Kyle and Grady?”

Quinn hesitates, then slides off the couch and pads to the side table where her notebook lies. She flips through the pages before returning, stopping a careful arm’s length from her mother’s chair. “Here. I used the new crayons Uncle Dom got me.”

Sadie takes it with trembling hands, drinking in the pages, and her thin fingers trace the outline of the crab. “It’s beautiful, Quinn. You’ve always been so creative.”

“Quinn has a whole collection of stories about Detective Stardust,” I offer, breaking the tension. “ She reads them to Sprinkles before bed sometimes.”

Quinn’s face brightens, her reserve forgotten in the presence of one of her favorite topics. “His favorite ones are where he’s the sidekick.”

Sadie leans forward, interest sparking in her eyes. “What time do you go to bed these days?”

“Eight thirty,” Quinn answers, growing more animated. “Nine o’clock if I’ve been good.”

“She never fights about bedtime,” Holden adds. “Not since we started the bedtime story routine.”

Sadie casts a brief look his way before turning back to Quinn. “What kind of stories do you like before bed?”

Quinn rocks on her heels, warming to the topic. “Uncle Nat reads me chapter books with magic in them. And Aunt Chloe tells me stories about dragons and knights.” She pauses and ducks her head a little. “I have a big bookshelf in my room now.”

“You do?” Sadie’s brows lift. “What’s your favorite book?”

“The one about the girl who finds a door to another world in her garden.” Quinn moves a step closer to her mother without seeming to realize it. “And the book about sea monsters that Uncle Dom got me. ”

Dominic chuckles from his position by the doorway. “It’s more of a marine biology text than a storybook.”

“She’s obsessed with the sea cucumbers,” Blake shoots Quinn a crooked grin.

“She always did like strange things.” Sadie’s expression softens. “Remember the rubber octopus you used to carry everywhere, Quinn?”

Her eyes widen. “You remember Ferdinand?”