Page 140 of Knotted By my Pack

Her lips are red. Her throat marked. Her thighs glisten faintly under the edge of the oversized T-shirt she’s stolen from Julian. She doesn’t speak.

Just lets herself be passed from lap to lap, limb to limb, letting one of us stroke her back or kiss her temple while the others doze off in turns.

I press a hand to her belly. Still faintly swollen from everything we put into her. Knots. Hours of it. Again and again until her eyes glazed and her body gave out beneath us.

I’ve never seen anyone endure something like that.

Never had to hold back the edge of panic while watching someone come so hard she cried.

Or begged for a break between waves, only to grab one of us and pull us back in with that helpless sound that shattered every last bit of control I thought I had.

She’s strong. Braver than any of us.

Elias sits cross-legged across from us, eyes red-rimmed, sandwich crumbs on his chest. “She’ll sleep for a while now.”

Julian hums in agreement from the floor, not bothering to lift his face from her hip.

I brush a thumb over her cheek. “I’m glad we were here.”

Because if she’d gone through that alone…

No. I can’t think about it.

She shifts a little, nestling closer to me. I pull her in and press my mouth to her hair. Her scent’s changed. Still hers, but calmer now. Earthy. Sweet.

The kind of scent that says she’s safe.

Ours.

We’re quiet for a long time. Just breathing. Just holding her.

She deserves that. After everything.

38

JULIAN

The room is heavy with the scent of Cora’s heat, even though it’s finally broken.

She’s curled against Elias on the worn-out sectional, barely alert, eyes fluttering every so often like her body is still trying to recover from everything we put her through. She looks soft in the aftermath. Wrecked. Safe.

I sit on the edge of the coffee table, elbows on my knees, watching her.

My body still aches, muscles bruised in places I hadn’t even known could bruise, but I don’t care. We did what needed to be done. We were there for her. And for the first time in my life, I’m not thinking about who deserves what or how messy this is going to get.

I just know I want to protect what’s mine. All of her.

She shifts slowly, and her voice is so quiet it sounds like a thought. “I don’t want to pick.”

That pulls both Elias and me from our haze. He lifts his head from where he’s cradling hers and stares at me across the back of the couch, brows drawn low, jaw working.

I sit up straighter. “You don’t have to.”

She blinks at me, then at Elias, then at Noah, who is finishing his second grilled cheese like we haven’t been through some type of war. Her lips part. “I mean it. I’m not choosing. I want all of you.”

Noah freezes mid-bite. Elias curses softly. And something tight in my chest starts to loosen.

We’re quiet for a while after that. No one tries to dissect it or push her into some neat decision.