Page 39 of Knotted By my Pack (North Coast Omegaverse #3)

CORA

The bells above the bakery door jingle again.

I wipe my flour-dusted hands on my apron as I turn, already expecting it to be Mrs. Elderbrook returning for the strawberry tarts she always forgets. But it isn’t her.

It’s them.

All three of them.

Noah walks in first, his shoulders too tight for this early in the morning, followed closely by Elias—still rumpled from sleep, his dark hair a mess like he barely ran a comb through it—and then Julian.

Julian, who looks like he barely survived a war on the way here.

The sight of the three of them together at this hour makes something slide uneasily down my spine.

I slow down behind the counter, blinking at them like I’ve just spotted ghosts. Noah gives me a small nod. Elias meets my eyes for only a moment before looking away.

Julian—Julian is still at the threshold, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed in.

I step forward, confused. “Hello to you too.”

They walk in, and the second the door closes behind them, I taste it in the air. The scent shift is unmistakable. Burnt ozone, sweat, and something bitter curling underneath.

Not fear, but something close. Tension coils around them, threaded between each step like wire pulled too tight.

Something’s wrong.

I come around the counter and hug Noah first. His arms wrap around me quickly, hard. Too hard. Then Elias.

He leans down, presses his face into my neck like he’s grounding himself. Julian lingers a second longer before stepping closer. When he finally hugs me, it’s awkward, stilted.

His breath catches against my shoulder.

I pull back, scanning their faces. “What’s going on?”

Noah clears his throat. “Just came in for coffee. And something sweet.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Elias reaches over the counter and grabs a mug. “Dead serious.”

Julian doesn’t say a word. He just drags a hand over his face and stares at the croissants like they hold the answers to the universe.

My pulse skips, but I turn on my heel and head back to the espresso machine.

Fine.

If they want to play it like that, we’ll play it like that. I serve two regulars—Mick and his teenage daughter Claire—then bring out a tray of fresh lemon poppyseed scones for the case.

My hands are moving on instinct, muscle memory carrying me through the motions, but my mind keeps circling the same thought.

Are they here to end it?

I drop a spoon. It clatters to the floor and I flinch, blinking rapidly as I crouch to grab it.

God. Please don’t let them be here to end it.

By the time I ring up the last customer, I’m sweating.

They are still seated at the back table. Still quiet. Watching me every time I pass. Like they’re holding something inside that might explode if they shift too fast.

I flip the sign to closed, turn the lock, and draw the shades. The silence that follows is too heavy. The soft hum of the fridge isn’t enough to fill it. I turn to face them, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

“You’re not here for coffee. So talk. Because I can’t keep pretending everything is fine.”

They exchange a glance. Elias pushes off the table first and nods toward the back room. Noah opens the door. Julian follows silently.

I trail behind them, my apron still dusted with flour, my nerves now snapping under the surface.

The second the door clicks shut, Julian starts talking. And with every word, the ground beneath me shifts.

He tells me about the bribe. How he paid Lockwood to manipulate the permit process.

How his father orchestrated the vandalism. How none of the construction was ever clean or legal, or about restoring the town. It was about control. About vengeance. And it was all orchestrated by him and his family.

The betrayal sluices inside me.

It was his father, after all.

I sit down slowly. My mouth has gone dry.

Julian’s eyes flick to me. “He wanted leverage. When I didn’t give him what he wanted, he made it personal.”

The room tilts. It’s the only way I can describe it. My skin goes hot, then cold, then hotter again. My fingertips burn. My stomach flips. Everything pulses in strange, uneven waves.

I press a hand to my chest, then to the back of my neck. My body aches, throbs, hums. My breath catches.

“Wait.” My voice cracks. “What is—?”

Elias crouches next to me. “Breathe. You’re okay.”

“No, I am not okay, Elias. My body is on fire, and there’s a town meeting with Lockwood to discuss the vandalism this weekend, and I need to—”

Noah steps forward, tension rolling off him. Julian hasn’t moved, but his jaw has gone tight, his eyes dark. They’re watching me like I’ve just dropped into the deep end. Like I’ve stopped being just Cora and become something more precious.

Or maybe just more tempting.

I curse under my breath, then louder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Elias touches my wrist, eyes scanning my face. “It’s the stress. The information triggered something. Your system’s flooded with adrenaline and—”

“Why can’t I just have a heart attack like normal people?” I snap, breathless. “Why does it have to be this? Why now?”

My thighs clench. My skin’s hypersensitive, each breath making it worse. The pulse at the base of my spine is now a full-blown ache.

Noah swears. Julian looks like he’s seconds away from pacing.

I fan myself with my apron. “This is ridiculous. I’m not even in the mood for this. I’m angry. I’m disgusted. I’m—”

My voice breaks again. Heat coils in my belly, and I press my knees together, trying to stop the pressure building there.

I can see them breathing harder now. Elias’s eyes darken. Noah licks his lips once and quickly looks away.

Julian doesn’t even try to hide the way he’s watching my mouth.

This can’t happen. Not now. Not like this.

I stare at the ceiling and groan. “I hate this. I hate Alec even though I’ve never met him. I hate this town. I hate this bakery. I hate you. All of you.”

Noah smirks—no, not smirking, not allowed—but doesn’t speak.

Julian exhales through his nose like he’s trying not to react.

Elias squeezes my wrist. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I am not okay!” I yell. “There’s a town hall meeting in two days, and I can’t go in there smelling like heat and frustration and whatever the hell this is!”

“It’ll pass,” Elias says gently.

“Will it?” I shoot him a look. “Because unless one of you has a cold bucket of water or a damn tranq dart, this is going to get very ugly very fast.”

They all go quiet. Too quiet.

My eyes narrow. “Don’t even think about it.”

No one says a word.

I stand shakily and grab the edge of the table. My hands are trembling now, the heat building between my legs enough to make me want to rip the apron off and curl into the freezer.

I close my eyes and try to breathe. “We need a plan. We need to talk about Lockwood. We need to talk about replacing him. We need to talk about Noah running. Not... this.”

Julian shifts slightly. “We can do all that. But first, you need to stop pushing through it like it’s just another chore.”

Elias’s voice is closer now, soft but sure. “You’ve been holding it together for everyone. It’s okay to fall apart for a second.”

“I’m not falling apart.” My voice is hoarse.

Noah, quiet until now, says, “You’re allowed to let us hold you up for once.”

The room is thick with it now. Heat. Anger. Frustration. Lust. I want to claw out of my own skin. I want to break something.

I want to grab one of them and ride this wave until it crests and crashes and maybe—just maybe—relieves the fire eating me alive.

But not now.

Not like this.

Not when it’s a trauma response masquerading as arousal.

I collapse into the chair, sweating and shaking and breathing hard.

“I swear to God,” I mutter, pressing my forehead to the cool table. “If I survive this week without committing murder or climbing one of you like a tree, it’ll be a miracle.”

“What do you need, princess?” Julian asks, his voice rough.

“Give me a second to think,” I choke out and get up, pressing my back against the wall in the back room of my bakery, panting like I’ve just sprinted five miles barefoot through the forest.

My thighs are slick. My dress clings to every part of me like it’s been sprayed on. I can’t stand still. My nails drag across my hips like scratching will ease the molten burn building low in my belly.

Julian takes a step forward, and I swear my knees buckle. The scent of him is sharper now. All Alpha. All authority and sex.

Noah is standing to his left, jaw tight, eyes dark with restraint.

Elias leans into the counter with his arms crossed like he’s trying to pretend he’s unaffected. He’s not.

None of them are.

Every single one of them is watching me like I’m prey they’ve already decided to catch.

I drag a palm across the side of my neck.

It’s burning up. “This is ridiculous,” I mutter, pacing in the small space, trying to cool the burn between my legs with logic.

“I just found out the town is rigged, my business was vandalized, my mate’s father is the actual devil, and now my heat decides to show up like this? ”

Julian exhales hard and drags a hand over his face. “Cora, you need to lie down. This isn’t going to pass on its own.”

“No shit.” I grip the back of a chair, my body vibrating. “Why can’t I just get a stress ulcer like a normal woman? A migraine? Maybe a mild breakdown and a bottle of wine? But no. My womb thinks now is the perfect time to prepare for a litter.”

“Jesus,” Elias mutters under his breath, rubbing his temples.

“You think I’m joking?” I glance up at all of them, sweat sliding down my spine. “I could claw through a brick wall right now. My teeth ache.”

Noah moves first.

He crosses the room with slow steps, like approaching me too quickly might detonate something.

I’m already so wet I’m scared to move. He cups my face with both hands and leans in until his forehead brushes mine.

“We take you home,” he murmurs. “Now. No distractions. No stopping. We’ll break this heat, Cora. You don’t go through this alone.”