Page 8 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Six

Holden

I wipe down the kitchen counter for what must be the tenth time tonight, my mind wandering as I finish cleaning the last few dishes. It’s late, but my nerves won’t settle.

After dinner, Chloe had vanished back upstairs, and Blake had gone with Quinn to the media room for a movie night.

Emily had joined us tonight so she and Nathaniel could go back down to the job site and set up cameras.

I don’t know where Dominic vanished to, but the house is too quiet with only the clatter of dishes and the soft hum of the fridge to keep me company.

As I move to the sideboard to box up muffins left over from earlier, I catch sight of Chloe through the front windows. She sits at one of the small, two- person tables on the porch, laptop open in front of her.

The moonlight hits her just right, turning her pink hair into a cascade of silver strands. The glow from the screen highlights the concentration in her face, but it doesn’t mask the tension in her posture. She’s working, but her stillness doesn’t sit right with me.

I set the dish towel down and leave the kitchen, heading toward the door, but before I open it, Dominic’s voice stops me.

“She’s been out there for hours.”

I turn, finding him sitting halfway up the steps, his elbows propped on his knees, and his dark hair loose and spilling over his shoulders. Has he been keeping an eye on her this whole time, ensuring her safety without her knowing?

Dominic shifts, glancing toward the window. “Did she eat?”

“She barely touched her plate.” I rub the back of my neck. “She usually loves pot pie.”

“It’s turning into a pattern.” Dominic rocks on the step, worry tightening his features. “She’s relapsing.”

My gut tightens. The last time Chloe fell into depression, her high school bullies had driven her to the point where she stopped eating or getting out of bed, and she almost died of starvation.

Last week had been rough, but has it gotten to that point? I had hoped her picnic with Nathaniel would brighten her mood. If anything, though, she looked more exhausted when she came down for dinner. Even Quinn noticed. Chloe is keeping secrets again, and I can’t help her unless she opens up.

Dominic doesn’t say anything at first, just stares out the window. “You should talk to her. She’s more open with you.”

I don’t miss the hurt beneath his words, though he tries to hide it.

Chloe seemed to be softening toward him.

At least, she was, until something spooked her.

After Louie’s final attack, we all knew she was having nightmares, but she was still happy and excited to plan for Grady’s arrival.

Then, the moment he showed up, everything shifted.

But I don’t think Grady’s the cause. He’s as confused as the rest of us by her sudden change. Over the last week, though, I keep catching her staring off, her brow furrowed with unhappiness.

Is she second-guessing her desire to join our pack? Or is she regretting signing on for the new trilogy in her bestselling fantasy romance? She hadn’t wanted to write it at first, but she had changed her mind.

There’s no real way to guess what’s causing her disquiet. Chloe’s been through more than most people can handle. And she’s too used to having to deal with everything on her own. After being kicked out of her family pack, it must be so hard for her to believe we’ll never betray her like that.

“Go talk to her,” Dominic huffs, raking his hand through his long hair. “Nothing will change if you keep everything bottled up, just wondering what’s going on. I’d go myself, but I’m the last person she’s going to open up to.”

Squaring my shoulders, I step onto the porch, the cool night air brushing my skin. The lights of the house spill out onto the wooden planks, and the singing of frogs stills for a moment before picking up again to fill the air.

Chloe doesn’t look up, too focused on the screen of her laptop, the soft tap of her fingers on the keys the only sound.

She’s working, but it’s obvious it’s more of a distraction than anything.

Her eyes are a little too wide, too distant.

She’s not really focused on the screen. She’s somewhere else.

“Hey,” I murmur as I approach, trying not to startle her .

Chloe blinks and lifts her head, her expression unreadable. “Hey.”

The distance in her voice tightens my stomach. It’s not the warmth I expect, not the Chloe I’ve been getting to know since she came to Misty Pines.

“You okay?” I crouch in front of her, wanting to touch her but settling for resting my hands on the arm of the chair instead.

Chloe sighs, her focus returning to the screen of her laptop, but her fingers pause. “I’m fine.”

It’s not the first time she’s said that, but I’m not buying it. The words are a shield as she quietly falls apart.

“Chloe.” Unable to stop myself, I touch her arm. “You don’t have to hide from us. We’re not going anywhere. But you need to talk to us.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she gazes out at the trees beyond the porch, the forest stretching out into darkness.

After a long moment, she exhales and closes her laptop, exhaustion in her movement and a level of surrender I’ve never seen from her before. She leans back in her chair, her head turning toward me. “I’m not okay, but it has nothing to do with you or the pack.”

Hurt shoots through me, and she must catch it in my expression, because her lips form an O , and she catches my hand.

“That came out wrong. I’m bad with words sometimes, which is stupid, considering what I do for a living.

” Her nose scrunches in thought. “What I meant is that you and the others have been wonderful to me, and I cherish what we’ve been building together.

What’s bothering me is outside of what we have here. ”

Not letting her hand go, I grab the other chair at the table and drag it over to sit beside her. “Like Louie was outside of here?”

“Yeah.” Chloe takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she gathers her thoughts.

Her lips tremble, but she keeps them pressed together like she’s holding back tears, and the silence stretches between us as I give her time to speak.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” Her voice cracks, tugging on my protective instinct.

“I… I feel like I’m stuck in the middle of everything, and no matter what I do, it’s never enough.

Sometimes, I wonder if I used up all my happiness before I was sixteen.

Everything after that… Every time things are getting better… ”

Her eyes glisten, and she scrubs her hand over them to wipe away the tears. “Sorry, I’m just so tired.”

My heart aches to see her like this. “Tell me what you need. We can’t fix everything, but we’re here. We’re your Alphas. We’ll figure it out.”

She sniffles, blotting her sleeves over her face. “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere. I thought I could come here and forget everything… forget who I was. But I can’t.”

“You’re not alone here.” I reach out to tuck soft pink strands of hair behind her ear. “We’re not going anywhere, cupcake. You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

Her head lifts, and she searches my face for reassurance or understanding, and the raw, unguarded vulnerability I see hurts.

It’s clear now more than ever that she’s been holding whatever is eating at her inside for so long that even the thought of sharing it with us has become a mountain she’s struggling to climb.

“I’m scared,” she whispers. “Scared I’ll lose you and the others. That I won’t be enough… that I won’t ever be able to belong.”

My heart breaks at how tired she appears. “You don’t have to be anything. Not for us, not for anyone. You just have to be you. That’s enough.”

She blinks as the words sink in, but she still doesn’t seem convinced. Her shoulders sag with exhaustion from the fight she’s been waging with herself. It breaks something in me to see her like this, to realize she still hasn’t fully allowed herself to trust or accept that she won’t lose us.

I stand, drawing Chloe to her feet before she can sink any deeper into her downward spiral. Her body wobbles, and she doesn’t resist when I grab her laptop and tuck it under my arm.

“We’re going inside,” I tell her. “And we’re going to bed. You’re sleeping in my room tonight, and you’re not arguing.”

She blinks up at me, too tired to put up even a token protest. That alone tells me how much she’s been struggling. She needs someone to take control, to take care of her.

I guide her back into the house, keeping my hand on the small of her back as we step inside. Dominic still sits on the stairs, watching as if he never once considered going to sleep himself. It’s still early for him, though. His sharp gray eyes flick between us, assessing the situation.

“We’re going to bed,” I inform him.

Dominic rises to his feet. “Sounds like a good idea."

At the base of the stairs, Chloe hesitates, exhaustion pulling at her limbs, her movements sluggish. I want to carry her, to be the one to sweep her up in my arms so she doesn’t have to take another step tonight. But I’m not strong enough, not like Dominic or Blake or Nathaniel.

A familiar pang of inferiority curls in my stomach, but before it can fester, Dominic hurries down the steps and scoops Chloe into his arms.

She squeaks, stiffening in protest, but he ignores it, adjusting his hold as if she weighs nothing. A deep, soothing purr rumbles through his chest, and she slumps within his hold, her fingers curling into his shirt, her nose pressing into the curve of his throat.

I swallow past the lump in my throat, watching the way Dominic handles her with such ease.

But then he gestures with his chin for me to lead the way upstairs, and the simple gesture steadies my insecurities.

I don’t have to be able to do everything for Chloe.

That’s not what this is about. I’m not alone in this. None of us are.

This is what it means to be in a pack. We take care of each other.

At the top of the stairs, I open the door into the family wing of the Homestead, then hurry down the hall to my room, stepping aside for Dominic to stride in and set Chloe on her feet. She sways, already half-asleep, and clings to him for a moment longer than necessary.

I don’t rush her, knowing how much this means to Dominic, having her not reject him. When she steps back, I help her out of her sweater and into one of my shirts. I push down her pants and slip off her bra, drawing it through the sleeve like I’ve seen her do before.

She lets me guide her to the bed, crawling under the blankets with a sigh of relief. I set her laptop on my nightstand and slide in beside her, warmth spreading through me when she curls into my side, her head on my chest.

“Sorry if I wake you up,” she mumbles, her eyelids drooping. “I have nightmares.”

I smooth my hand down her back, hushing her. “Then wake me up, and I’ll hold you until you fall back asleep.”

She hums, the sound drowsy and content. “That’s what Nathaniel said.”

I stroke her hair. “Nathaniel is very wise.”

Dominic chuckles, bending to rub his cheek against mine, his scent filled with contentment. He smooths a hand over Chloe’s head in a quiet goodnight before he straightens and flicks off the light, leaving us alone together in the quiet dark .

As I start to drift off, Chloe shifts, murmuring so faint I almost miss it, “I’m scared.”

My arms tighten around her. “Of what?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her breath warm puffs on my collarbone. Then, soft as a secret, she whispers, “That this won’t last. That I won’t be allowed happiness.”

Heart clenching, I press a kiss to her hair. “It will, and you are.”

But in the darkness, with sleep tugging at the edges of my mind, I can’t shake the uneasy curl in my gut that says something is coming that could tear all of this apart.