Her Knotty List (MVP: Most Valuable Pack Book 4)
Her Knotty List: Chapter 21

“Emmy,” my sister hisses through Gunnar’s borrowed phone. “What is happening?”

I’ve never liked being called Emmy. But when a cutesy version of your name is your baby sister’s first word? You sort of end up going with it. Forever.

Exhaling deeply, I glance over at the closed door of Knox’s bedroom, then to the cracked window. He must have put sealant on it before he and Micah left, because gloopy filling now holds the pane together.

“Emmy!” Lucy snaps, still whispering. “Theo says you’re at some random alpha’s cabin? With Gunnar Sinclair? And you’re refusing to come back? I’m keeping Mom from losing her shit, but I need details.”

That, I believe. Lucy could put on a pair of porkchop panties and still tame a den of lions. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s managed to smooth everyone’s ruffled feathers within a matter of hours.

“I told you,” I groan. “I need you to get away from the others and conference call Bridget!”

Lucy huffs, but I hear her heels on the mansion’s hardwoods. Lucy lives in heels, which might not annoy me so much if I could just walk upright in them.

“Fine, fine,” she grouses.

A door snicks and the sound of her thumbs tapping at her cell comes through Gunnar’s. The call clicks as it adds my best friend and switches all three of us to FaceTime.

Bridget’s beautiful, rounded face appears besides my sister’s slender one. Lucy’s blonde hair is coiffed into a perfect half-up style while Bridget’s fans around her face in a pinkish-red mane. She yawns and rubs at her blue eyes, pouting.

“Emma, it’s almost five! Aren’t you supposed to be in that cream puff Renee picked out?”

She means my former wedding dress. Which, yes, looked sort of like a cotton ball someone had dipped in alfredo sauce.

Renee chose it. And when I told her I probably couldn’t manage a ballgown without falling, she just smirked and told me to do my best.

It’s strange how utterly wrong all of it feels to me now. Not just the wedding details—which, honestly, never reflected my taste as much as they reflected the Dunlap Pack’s need to show off—but the whole six months I spent courting them.

Every time I think back, I remember new details that I forced myself to accept—or forced myself to forget.

When Micah purred for me this afternoon without even a moment’s hesitation, something inside me finally clicked. He clearly has mixed feelings about this whole horrible situation, but he still didn’t skip a single beat when it came to comforting me or offering his support. Compared to the alphas who spent half a year telling me everything I wanted to hear but flinching any time I tried to go to them for reassurance, that feels like a big deal.

For the first time, I allow myself to accept the words as I say them. My voice is surprisingly calm. “I’m not going back to the Dunlap Pack. Luce, I need you to tell Mom.”

Bridget’s jaw drops open. Lucy’s beautiful face pinches; then a look of pure relief passes over her features. “Oh, thank God. I hate those alpha-holes. Don’t even worry about it, Emmy; I’ll take care of everything.”

My best friend sputters. “So you’re—you’re just—staying in that cabin with all those strange alphas?”

They don’t feel strange, though. Even now, as I inhale the scent of Knox’s sheets…

They feel like my alphas.

I stare at the two faces I know and love best; Lucy’s, steeped in concern; and Bridget’s, full of shock. My voice drops into a whisper. “Am I stupid if I believe I might be here with them for a reason?”

Lucy’s brows crunch lower. “Like what? A Christmas miracle?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble back. “Maybe?”

My whole life has been a series of embarrassing mishaps and unfortunate stumbles. Is it really so crazy for me to think the universe might owe me one? That, just maybe—what happened to me last night doesn’t mean I shouldn’t trust this, but, actually, might mean that I deserve this?

Bridget’s expression softens when she sees the desperation in my eyes. “It could be,” she allows, ever the sweetheart. “As long as you feel safe and your family is staying nearby, I guess there’s no harm in staying for a couple of days to figure things out.”

She bites her full bottom lip, fretting around it. “But… isn’t your heat coming, Em? I know you and I made that silly list of things for your old pack to try. Didn’t you plan your honeymoon around it?”

Only because my heats were the only times William and Rob would have sex with me… and they never seemed to know what to do apart from the obvious.

I wince at the memories. “I don’t think I have the list anymore. But my heat should be in, like, three weeks?”

Lucy gives a huffing laugh. “Uh, don’t bet on it, Emmy,” she chortles. “If you’re telling us you actually found four mates who feel like stronger matches than the ones you had, I’d say your heat is probably going to get there waaaaaay before the big guy in the red suit stuffs himself down anyone’s chimney.”