Page 12 of Knotted By my Pack

Cora sits, and before I can process what is happening, she reaches for my hand. Jesus.

Her fingers slide against mine, and suddenly, none of this matters—the work, the money, the promise of a major contract. I would rather lose it all than watch her lose what she loves.

The docks were where I took her for her twelfth birthday. I had done every odd job I could find, from cleaning fishing rods to mowing lawns, and saved up every coin just to buy her ice cream from the little stand by the marina.

It had been a warm summer afternoon, and we’d sat on the worn wooden planks, legs dangling over the edge, licking at our cones while the sun dipped low over the water.

She had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, and even then, I had known I would do anything to make her happy.

If she wants to preserve that pier, then I will stand by her. No questions asked.

Fuck. I like Cora way too much.

4

ELIAS

Isit in the corner, watching it all unfold.

Julian Vance stands at the front of the room, smooth-talking the crowd, painting a picture of progress and opportunity. I thought that after that little debate, he would take his leave, but Julian is not letting this go.

He speaks with conviction in his voice—the kind of person who could sell water to a drowning man. He wears a suit like he was born in one, every inch of him polished. Just like his brother.

Damien.

The name alone is enough to make my teeth clench. It’s been years, but some wounds never close. He stole everything from me, and I’m supposed to believe his twin is any different?

The Vance family has never been interested in anything but their own gain, and if Julian is here, that means bad news for Driftwood Cove.

This was supposed to be my fresh start. I walked away from everything, left the fight behind, built a life in the woods where no one could touch me. My cabin is miles from town, far from people, far from all of this. I only come in when necessary. Groceries. Supplies. Nothing else.

But Julian’s arrival threatens to drag me right back in.

He talks about jobs, about tourism, about making the town a destination. It’s the same speech developers have given for decades, the same lies wrapped up in shiny new packaging. I’ve seen what happens when men like him move in, have watched towns crumble under the weight of their promises.

The Vance family has been implicated in oil drilling cases before. They ruin the land. They destroy homes.

And now, they’re here.

I should leave. I have no stake in this town, no reason to stay beyond the fact that I spent the last three years convincing myself this place was safe. That I was done fighting.

Then she stands again.

Cora.

I’ve seen her before, in passing, but never like this. The fire in her eyes, the strength in her voice as she challenges Julian—she’s an Omega unafraid to stand against an Alpha with power.

I lean forward slightly, listening more carefully now.

“Like I said, the docks are history,” she says, voice unwavering. “You can’t just tear them down because they don’t fit your vision.”

Julian stays polite, but now there are more people murmuring and shifting in their seats. Some nod along with her. Lockwood watches closely, lips pressed together in thought.

She does make very good points.

I exhale through my nose, fighting the flicker of interest curling low in my stomach. An Omega with fire in her blood is rare.

But it’s none of my business. I don’t get involved. I never do.