Page 44 of Knotted By my Pack (North Coast Omegaverse #3)

ELIAS

We’re standing among the ashes when Julian steps toward me, jaw tight, eyes darting between the twisted mess that used to be my cabin and the last curls of smoke still bleeding into the trees.

Rusty leans into my side, soot streaked across his fur, his body vibrating with leftover adrenaline. I keep a hand on his scruff. It’s the only thing tethering me right now.

Thank god he’s alive.

“I need to say something,” Julian says.

His voice is flat, but there’s a break in it that makes me glance up.

“I know Lockwood’s got his hands all over this, but…” He exhales hard. “I think my father did it. Damien’s been hanging around the working site, asking questions. He hasn’t reached out to me. Hasn’t even looked at me.”

My chest pulls tight. Not just from the loss. From the betrayal layered into the air around us like smoke. Rusty whines low.

“I’m sorry,” Julian says. “If it was him, if he was part of it, I’ll handle it. I should’ve warned you. I didn’t think he’d go that far.”

Noah looks ready to rip something apart, but before he can speak, Cora cuts through the tension.

Her voice is soft but decisive. “We need to take Rusty to the vet. He’s limping. Once we know he’s okay, we’ll go home. We won. That matters. The rest can come after.”

I nod, jaw clenched. Home doesn’t mean much when the one you built is a smoking ruin, but her voice wraps around something aching and raw inside me. Rusty presses his nose to my hand. He’s alive. That’s enough for now.

We ride in silence again. The vet says minor burns. Smoke inhalation. He’ll be fine.

I hold him still while they patch him up, my head down so they don’t see whatever’s clawing its way across my face.

He was the only one inside when it started.

We don’t talk about that.

By the time we get back to the bakery, it’s pitch-black outside. Cora flicks on the lights like she’s done a thousand times, sets out mugs, plates, little things that anchor us.

Noah drops into a chair with the posture of a man who’s been through war and has to pretend it didn’t gut him. Julian leans against the counter, gaze distant.

I wash my hands twice before I sit, watching soot spiral down the drain.

Later, when she wedges herself between us at the table, Cora’s eyes sweep across all of us.

“I had a thought,” she says lightly, biting into a piece of toast like she isn’t about to upend the whole room. “We could get a house. All of us. Together.”

Julian chokes on his coffee. Noah lifts a brow. I stare at her.

She shrugs. “Instead of finding separate places, or Elias rebuilding alone. I know the cabin meant a lot, but this doesn’t have to be a replacement. It could be something new. Something built with all of us in it.”

My mouth opens, then shuts again. The cabin wasn’t just walls and wood. It was mine. Years of sweat to build it, and my filtration systems. All gone in one night, together with all my stuff and my notes…

But she’s not wrong. I glance at her. At the warmth she brings just by being in the room. The way Noah watches her. The quiet way Julian eases when she leans on his arm.

“I’ll do it,” I say eventually. “We’ll build it again. Just... with all of us this time.”

She smiles, and it does something sharp to my gut.

“But,” I add, setting my mug down, “there’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

Both of them straighten. She leans in.

“I’ve been turning this over for weeks. But now that the bakery’s a target, and Noah’s about to take office, we’re not just dealing with small-town politics anymore. The three of us, claiming you like we have, it’s one thing. But I think we need to make this real.”

Julian blinks. “What do you mean, real?”

I glance at Cora, then at Noah. “I mean, we form a pack. Officially. Not just some casual claiming arrangement. Not something flexible or temporary. A true pack. Anchored around her.”

Her breath catches. Noah sits up straighter. Julian lowers his mug.

“You’re serious,” she says.

“As serious as I’ve ever been. This isn’t just about sex anymore. Or territory. Or politics. It’s about keeping you safe. Keeping all of us connected. Bound. We’re already bonded, the three of us, but it’s incomplete. It needs to be finished. Recognized.”

Julian drags a hand through his hair. “And you’re okay with that? Sharing a bond like that?”

I snort. “We’re already in each other’s heads more than I’d like. It wouldn’t change much. Except maybe make it easier to know when someone’s hurt. Or in trouble.”

Noah rubs the back of his neck, expression tight. “You think Julian’s father will retaliate again?”

“I think he already has. And I think he won’t stop until one of us is dead or he’s behind bars.”

Cora stiffens beside me. I glance down, rest my hand on her thigh under the table. She doesn’t flinch. She leans into it.

“Then yeah,” Noah says slowly. “I’m in.”

Julian looks at her. Then at us. “Same.”

Her lashes lower. “What would that mean for me?”

“Depends on how we do it,” I say. “Could be something ritualistic. Could be something primal. Could be a night you never forget.”

Julian chuckles under his breath. “You just want an excuse to make it filthy.”

“I mean, I am grieving. Comfort sex has a long tradition.”

Noah throws a piece of crust at my head. “We’ll talk logistics later.”

“Or now,” I offer, sliding my hand higher beneath the table. Her legs part just slightly, instinctively.

“You’re terrible,” she says softly.

“And you love it.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t pull away. Noah’s watching with that hungry, low burn he never hides anymore. Julian’s teeth graze his lip.

“Maybe we do it tonight,” she says quietly. “If we’re doing this—let’s do it.”

I stand, hold out a hand. “Then let’s go home.”

We don’t say much on the way up the stairs.

Cora walks ahead, her steps slow but certain. There’s something in the air between us that’s heavier than lust, thicker than tension.

She knows what this is. What it means. So do we. The claiming was instinct. Desire pushed to the edge until it spilled over. This is something older. Deeper. A pact etched in blood and flesh and heat.

In the room, she turns to face us, her back against the edge of the bed.

Her shirt’s soft cotton, pale and worn, tugging slightly as she lifts her arms and peels it over her head.

No teasing. No waiting. Just a quiet kind of strength in the way she bares herself to us, chest rising, eyes locked on mine.

I step forward first.

She meets me halfway, my hands sliding along her waist, over ribs, fingers tracing the curve of her spine. Her skin is warm, silk beneath my callused palms. I press my forehead to hers.

“I might have lost everything,” I say, voice rougher than I expect. “But you’re still here. And that means I didn’t lose the only thing that matters.”

She nods, mouth brushing mine. “You didn’t.”

“I love you.”

It breaks out of me before I can stop it. Three words I’ve never said to anyone who mattered. Three words that dig their hooks in and hold fast. Her hands tighten against my chest. She exhales through parted lips like I just unlocked something buried.

“I love you too, Elias.”

Behind us, Noah exhales, then comes up on her other side. His fingers sweep the hair from her face, lips grazing her temple. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

She turns to him, wraps her arm around his neck. He pulls her in, not gentle but not rough, either. Like he needs her closer or he’ll lose his mind.

Julian closes the space last, palms cradling her hips. He presses his mouth to her shoulder, then lingers there.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t supposed to let you in.”

She tilts her head. He kisses her throat, slow, reverent.

“But you did,” she whispers.

He nods once.

“I love you,” he says into her skin. “Even when it terrifies me.”

Her whole body arches toward us. Like the words were a key in a lock. My hands slide down, cupping the backs of her thighs, lifting her. She wraps around me easily, her breath caught in my neck as I carry her to the bed.

The others follow, silent but charged. She sinks into the mattress, hair fanned out across the pillows. My mouth is on hers before I even think.

She kisses like she needs air. Like she’s been holding it in for too long.

Noah pulls his shirt off. Julian is already unbuckling his jeans. There’s nothing rushed about it, just the kind of need that’s been burning since the first night we all touched her.

Her hands roam. She knows each of us by scent, by texture, by rhythm. Her touch is confident, hungry, reverent.

Noah kneels beside her, guiding her face to his. His mouth trails from her lips to her jaw to her chest. He takes his time, drawing one nipple between his lips, tongue teasing until she gasps. Julian is at her knees, spreading them apart, kissing the inside of her thigh like a man at worship.

I settle between her legs, lowering my head, my mouth brushing over slick folds. She’s already soaked. The scent of her hits me hard. Raw. Sweet. Mine.

I groan into her, tongue sweeping deep. She arches, one hand tangled in my hair, the other clawing at the sheet. Julian kisses her mouth. Noah takes her hand and places it on himself, guiding her fingers around his length.

She strokes him with that same careful reverence we all feel for her.

When I pull back, her chest is heaving, her eyes dazed.

“You ready for the bond?” I ask, thumb sliding between her folds, circling that tender little spot that makes her squirm.

“Yes,” she breathes.

I shift, lining myself up.

I push in slow. Inch by inch, watching her face. Her lashes flutter. Her back bows. She’s tight, wet, body clenching around me.

I sink all the way in, hold there, still, giving her time to adjust. Julian strokes her hair. Noah kisses her throat.

I move slow at first. Deep thrusts that drag moans from her throat. Her body moves with mine, hips tilting up. Every time I bottom out, I feel the resistance building. That ache. That edge. The knot swelling at the base of me, thickening, preparing.

She gasps when I begin to catch. When the knot starts to nudge at her. I slow, breath ragged.

“You sure?” I ask again.

She looks at me through heavy lashes. “Do it.”

That’s all I need.

I push forward harder, my body jerking with the effort of locking in. The pressure builds. She gasps again, body trembling beneath me, and then the knot catches. Buries itself inside her. She’s full now. Claimed.

Her nails bite into my arms. I brace myself above her, head bowed, mouth open.

“Mine,” I grit.

She nods against my shoulder. “Yours.”

Julian strokes her hair, kisses her shoulder. Noah leans in and licks sweat from her skin. She looks drunk on it all. Our hands, our mouths, the knot seated deep inside her.

“I love you,” I whisper again, the words punched from my chest.

“I know,” she says, voice ragged.

The bond hums between us. Real now. Anchored in heat and blood and something older than instinct.

Noah kisses the space behind her ear. “We’ll rebuild,” he murmurs. “Together.”

Julian leans in next, cupping her face in both hands. He kisses her slow, deep, then pulls back just enough to say, “You’re the center of everything now. You belong to all of us.”

She nods. “I want to.”

The bond pulses again. I feel them. Their hearts. Their need. The way we all orbit her.

We stay like that for a long time. Wrapped in skin, the knot keeping me anchored inside her, her body soft and pliant beneath mine. Her hands move, touching each of us. Our thighs, our hips, the curve of Noah’s jaw, the angle of Julian’s shoulder.

Eventually, I soften enough to slip free. She gasps at the loss, body still twitching with aftershocks.

Noah takes my place without hesitation. He slides in easy, deep. His mouth finds hers, and when he knots, she cries out, shuddering around him. Julian doesn’t wait long after.

When Noah slips free, Julian takes her from behind, one arm wrapped tight across her chest. He knots fast, voice a low growl as he spills into her.

When it’s over, she lies between us, boneless, flushed, radiant.

We hold her like we’ll never let go. And we won’t.

The bond pulses through the room. Complete. Unbreakable.