Page 18 of Knotted By my Pack (North Coast Omegaverse #3)

NOAH

Idrive through the night with the windows cracked just to stay awake. Driftwood Cove is just beginning to stir when I pull into town, exhaustion clinging to the back of my throat.

My arms ache from gripping the wheel too long, eyes heavy from the working fourteen hours nonstop, but none of that mattered.

She’d missed me. And I’d missed her. More than sleep. More than the pain in my shoulders or the endless grind of work. More than anything.

I had to rush through work just to come home to her.

Soft jazz plays from the back as I step into the bakery, the kind she says calms her when the oven’s on and the morning rush looms.

Sunlight filters through the windows, dusting her in gold, and there she is.

Cora stands behind the counter, a mug in one hand and a rag in the other, wiping something down.

Her red hair is twisted into a messy bun, strands curling free around her cheeks and neck. She’s in a soft, oversized tee that slides off one shoulder, hugging her hips in a way that makes me pause mid-step.

Her leggings cling to her like they were made for her body, every curve imprinted into my memory and still hitting me like a punch to the chest.

Her head lifts. Those eyes lock on mine. The rag drops, and before I can say a word, she’s racing across the room.

She crashes into me, arms tight around my neck, her whole body flush against mine. My arms close around her instinctively.

Her scent hits me with full force, warm and sweet and so her that my chest tightens.

“Hey, baby,” I murmur, the word slipping out without thought, rumbling against the top of her head. Her fingers clutch the back of my jacket, and I don’t want to let go.

She leans back just enough to look up. “How are you here so early?”

“I finished the job overnight. Drove straight here.”

Before she can say anything else, the bell above the door jingles. My eyes flick over, and I freeze.

Elias walks in, looking like he didn’t expect company. His eyes land on Cora first, then me. I offer a nod.

“Hey.”

The tension is immediate. It clings to the air like humidity before a storm. He doesn’t say hi back. Instead, his gaze darts to her.

“Can we talk?”

She doesn’t move, arms still looped around me. “I’m already talking to Noah,” she replies. “But you can go look at the car if you want.”

He lingers, jaw working like he wants to argue, then nods once and heads back out the door.

I watch him through the window, pretending like I’m not dying to ask. But I know better.

“What happened to your car?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Cora doesn’t meet my eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, stepping out of my arms and heading toward the counter. “Sit. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

I do as she says, sliding into a stool. My eyes follow every move she makes. Her hips sway naturally, her hands moving through the routine like muscle memory.

She grabs mugs, pours milk, tosses in cocoa and a pinch of sea salt. Every small act familiar.

Domestic.

Too intimate for me to pretend I don’t notice what’s changed.

Because I can smell them. Both of them.

Elias’s scent is faint, buried beneath flour and vanilla. Julian’s lingers stronger. But there’s something else, something sharper and out of place.

A Beta’s scent, subtle and soft, but there. It shouldn’t be there. Not when I was gone for less than a week.

I grit my teeth, swallowing hard against the bitter taste crawling up my throat.

She turns around, sliding a mug in front of me, then leans over the counter just enough to catch my attention all over again.

“There are still cookies from yesterday,” she says. “Want some?”

“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “Bring those too.”

She disappears into the back. I press my hands to the counter and stare down at the dark liquid swirling in my cup.

My chest tightens. I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to accuse her of anything. But the question’s crawling under my skin.

Did she hook up with a Beta while I was gone? Did someone else touch her, hold her the way I’m holding this goddamn mug?

Fuck.

The thought makes me nauseous. I push it down and look up just as she walks back in, a plate in one hand, stacked with cookies.

Her shirt’s shifted again, sliding lower down her shoulder, exposing the soft line of skin I used to bite when she laughed too hard. I catch myself staring.

She places the plate down and slides onto the stool next to mine. Close, but not close enough. Her body still smells like her, but something in me itches with doubt.

It’s not just about scent. It’s the way she’s watching me now, guarded in a way I don’t recognize.

“You look good,” I say.

She tilts her head. “So do you.”

“You look better than I remember.”

A slow smile curves her lips, like maybe she’s glad I noticed. She leans in, brushing her hand across mine. The touch is light. Fleeting.

I study her face, trying to read what’s behind the smile. But she’s always been good at hiding things when she wants to.

“You alright?” I ask quietly.

She hesitates. Then nods. “Yeah.”

I sip the hot chocolate. It tastes like something she made with care, something soft and safe. The kind of comfort I missed more than I want to admit.

She picks at a cookie, nibbling the edge, avoiding my eyes.

I should ask. I should just come out with it and make her tell me. But I don’t. Not yet. Instead, I slide my hand across the counter and cover hers, anchoring her in place.

“I missed you.”

Her breath catches. She doesn’t say it back, not right away. Just stares at our hands like they’re something new.

“I missed you, too,” she finally whispers, softer than anything else she’s said all morning.

The door creaks. Elias steps back in, brushing dirt from his palms. “Looks like a busted fuel line,” he says. I’ll need to take another look at it.

Cora nods but doesn’t move away from me.

“Thanks,” she tells him.

He looks between us for a beat, then nods and leaves again.

When the door shuts behind him, silence settles. She doesn’t let go of my hand. I don’t let go of her.

Her skin is warm. Her lips slightly parted. That little furrow in her brow I’ve always loved is there again, the one she gets when she’s deep in her head.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, watching her too closely. Her fingers tighten around the edge of the counter. She doesn’t answer right away.

Just stands there, silent, until finally she says, “Something happened with Julian.”

My chest knots, heat crawling just under my skin. I swallow it. “What happened?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, jaw tight, frustration leaking through her expression. But then she’s not looking at me anymore—her eyes flick to the window and narrow.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I turn to look.

Julian and Elias are right outside the bakery, standing way too close, voices rising, tension spilling out like a lit match in dry brush.

They’re arguing. Cora’s already moving, striding past me and throwing the door open before I can stop her.

“Get the hell away from here!” she shouts, loud enough to make heads turn down the street. “Both of you. I swear to God, I’ll start filing restraining orders if I have to.”

I’m right behind her, stepping out into the morning air, half-lit and humming with chaos. Julian’s holding a bouquet of fresh wildflowers.

His other hand gestures as he speaks, like that somehow softens the shit he’s pulled. Elias looks pissed but restrained, arms crossed and mouth pulled tight.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, stepping in between them.

Both of them start talking over each other.

“He told me to back off,” Julian snaps.

“I’ve been here for her,” Elias bites back.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Cora growls. “I’m done with both of you playing games with me like I’m something you can fight over.”

She turns and storms back inside, shoving the door so hard it nearly rebounds off the wall.

I move fast, chasing her in before the others can follow. She’s pacing behind the counter now, muttering under her breath, rage written in every line of her body.

“Cora,” I say gently, stepping closer. “Talk to me. Look at me.”

She spins, and I catch her by the arms, holding her just still enough.

“Tell me what actually happened.”

Her lips press together in a tight line before the words crack out of her like lightning.

“That bastard kissed me.”

I go rigid. “Which one?”

“Julian.”

Something in me snaps. I’m already turning, ready to drag him into the street and break his jaw for even thinking he had the right.

“Stop,” she says sharply.

I stop, but it takes effort. My blood’s roaring, rage flooding every inch of me. I’m trying to stay grounded, trying to listen, but the image of him touching her makes it nearly impossible.

“Noah,” she says, voice strained.

I turn just in time to see her eyes flicker, glowing almost, before she stumbles forward, hands clutching the counter.

A soft sound escapes her lips, somewhere between a whine and a gasp, and then her scent hits me like a brick wall.

Heat.

Cora’s in heat.

She lets out another broken sound, knees folding slightly as she presses her palm flat against her stomach.

I move fast, catching her before she slips to the floor. Her skin burns through her clothes, her breath quick and uneven. The bakery, already warm, suddenly feels stifling.

Every instinct in me locks onto her. The scent is too strong, syrup-thick and intoxicating, crowding out everything else.

I glance toward the door just as it opens.

Julian and Elias step inside, and the second they inhale, they freeze. Their eyes darken almost instantly, hunger written across their features.

The air is heavy now. Full of her. I can smell the arousal rolling off her in waves, and I know they can too.

I shove down the part of me that wants to bare my teeth.

“You need to leave,” I growl, voice low and dangerous.

Neither of them moves.

“I said, get the fuck out,” I snap. “I’ll take care of her.”

Cora whimpers again and curls in on herself, arms wrapping tight around her middle as if she can fight off what’s coming.

I crouch beside her, hand on her back, but she’s burning up. Sweat beads at her temple, and her breath is shallow.

The two Alphas stay rooted near the door, clearly torn, muscles coiled like they’re waiting for her to choose them.

She cries out, not a scream, but a desperate plea. “Help me.”

That sound wrecks me.

“Out,” I bark. “Now. Or I’ll throw you out.”

They hesitate, but Julian is the first to turn and head toward the door. Elias lingers a second longer, then finally backs up.

I expect them to leave, but I watch as he fastens the lock. They aren’t leaving.

I turn back to her. Her cheeks are flushed, pupils blown wide. She’s trying so hard to fight it, but her body’s already given in.

Her leggings are damp at the thighs, and the scent between her legs is dizzying. Every Alpha instinct in me screams to take, to claim, but I won’t—not like this.

I lift her carefully and carry her behind the counter, setting her on the small couch in the office where she sometimes naps during long shifts. She clings to me, nails digging lightly into my shoulders.

“You’re okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she breathes. “I thought I had it under control.”

“It’s alright,” I murmur, brushing damp hair off her face. “You’re not alone.”

She grabs my shirt and pulls me close, lips brushing my jaw, hot breath ghosting over my skin. Her body is trembling with need, her scent only growing more potent.

“I need—” she gasps, but her voice falters.

“I know.”

I press my forehead to hers, willing myself to stay grounded. My control is hanging by a thread.

“You trust me?” I ask.

Her answer is immediate. “Yes.”

I exhale through my nose, anchoring myself. She’s in pain, overwhelmed, and it’s my job to get her through it, not take advantage of it.

I pull off my jacket and wrap it around her, trying to block the worst of the scent.

She whines, shifting beneath me.

“Noah, please…”

“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m right here.”

Her fingers curl in my shirt again, anchoring herself.

I settle beside her, pulling her against me, arms tight.

My scent surrounds her now, meant to soothe, to remind her that she’s safe. Her body is hot against mine, practically vibrating. I focus on her breathing, the way her chest moves, the little gasps escaping her lips.

My hands stroke her back, slow, steady, never straying.

The scent is still too much. Too thick. But I won’t leave her.

Not now. Not ever.