Her Knotty List (MVP: Most Valuable Pack Book 4)
Her Knotty List: Chapter 40

I really want to be better than this.

This seethe in my gut. The way my eyes slide toward the stairs or the ceiling—or, now, the back door—every few minutes.

Micah finishes restoring the couch to its proper order. He seems to be the self-appointed guy-who-keeps-everything-together. Which is probably a good thing because Zane is oblivious to messes, and I’m…

Useless.

Depressed.

Stuck under the dark cloud that’s followed me for months. The one that colors everything around me in these mottled shades of gray I loathe so much.

I thought I had army-crawled out of this barbed-wire cage. It has been a few days since I felt the spike sinking into my skin.

But now? They’re back.

I hate this. Before the mind-fuck of this year, I knew who I was. What I wanted and what I thought about shit. Now, it all seems hopelessly layered and also, somehow, completely meaningless.

Except for Emma.

Which makes today a problem.

“It’s only been one day,” Micah reminds me. “This is normal pack-alpha stuff.”

But the irrational anger and swirling helplessness thickening my throat aren’t appeased by the knowledge that ultra-dominant alphas often “hoard” their omegas after knotting them for the first time. Not even a little bit.

“We aren’t a pack,” I snap back.

At the same second Zane calls from the kitchen, “Who made him the pack alpha?”

Micah chuffs, rolling his eyes as he falls back onto the sofa. “You guys are kidding me, right? Knox could put any of us on our asses. Of course, he’d be the pack alpha. Fighting that would be like trying to fight the sun.”

Sunshine.

Emma.

Everything feels so dismal without her here. How the fuck am I supposed to go back to real life when her heat is over? What am I going to do if she doesn’t come with me?

Am I really even willing to leave if she wants to stay here?

What about my career? My apartment? Her whole family, back home?

Zane mutters some shit under his breath, balancing three plates and three mugs of coffee between his bare arms and his naked chest while he saunters into the living room.

I reach for the closest cup, and he kicks at my shin, frowning. He juggles everything to hand me a different coffee. “This one is yours, Hot Shot.”

I look down into the dark liquid, confused, until the scent of hazelnuts hits me. Zane finishes laying the plates out and cocks a glossy black brow at me. “You like hazelnut, right?”

I do. It’s my favorite.

When I nod, he shrugs and sits between me and Micah, spreading his thighs to lean between them and start on his breakfast. “Then you’re welcome, Hockey Boy.”

He shovels two bites into his mouth before realizing Micah and I are staring at the back door. “They still out there?” he asks around some toast.

I grunt, and Micah nods. Zane doesn’t seem all that bothered—maybe just slightly tweaked if the way his muscles swell is any indication—until he really looks at me. I feel his dark eyes on my face, my hands, the slump of my spine.

“Well, fuck.” He mimes, punching his own hand, setting his modelesque face into a menacing snarl. “Let’s go kill him.”

For a second, I gape. But the motherfucker is committed to the bit, glaring like he’s some sort of mercenary and not a half-naked half-chef wearing truly ridiculous fur booties.

Before I know what’s happening, I laugh. Just a chuckle, at first, until Micah guffaws and joins in. Zane’s face drops back into his easy grin as he reaches over and squeezes my knee. Only for a second, because in the next breath, he’s on his feet, stretching his exposed torso into a lean arch of deeply tanned muscle.

“Seriously, though,” he says, gesturing toward the doors. “Fuck it. Let’s go out there and say good morning. He can’t hog her forever.”

He and Micah exchange a glance that tells me everything I need to know—they can stand this, but they know I can’t.

And right now?

I think I’m too pathetic to care that they’re only pretending to be as bothered as I am.

We leave our food behind, each of us stumbling into our outerwear. Well, I stumble, at least. Micah can get his on and off in three seconds, probably because he’s used to doing it with a fire alarm blaring. And Zane, of course, has no shirt on. Just a big-ass pimp coat made of the same fur lining his feet.

Jesus.

What is my life?

Knox and Emma took the dog for a walk, so we know they’re nearby when we step out onto the back porch and McKinley comes wagging over. Zane drops right to his knees and smiles widely, cooing at the dog the same way Emma would.

McKinley’s tail goes wild, his whole rump wiggling while he licks the model’s face. And, fuck, it’s almost enough for me to smile.

Until Micah sighs, the sound deeply exasperated. “Looks like they’re busy.”

I squint across the gleaming white landscape and spot Knox and Emma wrapped up together against the trunk of a nearby maple tree. Jealousy floods my gut, tightening around my insides like a choking vine. My Alpha bucks and roars, urging me to fight and claim and⁠—

“Hey.”

It’s Zane, rising back to his full height and frowning at me. I open my mouth to try to explain, but I don’t know how to tell him that the little omega currently too wrapped up in another alpha is the first thing that’s made me feel good in months. I can’t replace words for how irrational I know I’m being… and how much I really, actually can’t help myself.

He stares for a long moment, those dark eyes examining. So much deeper than I gave him credit for. Deeper than he gives himself credit for, maybe.

But simple, too.

Because instead of questioning me, he jaunts down off the porch and bends to a snow drift that’s built up against the side of the house. He scoops up a big ball of snow, rolling it tightly between his bare palms, winds his arm… and lobs it straight at Knox’s head.

My mouth drops open.

“Oh fuck,” Micah snorts.

Knox freezes, huddled over our omega, then very slowly turns his head. Furious and definitely shocked, too. I’m sure it’s been a minute since anyone stepped to him.

Even from across the huge yard, I see his shoulders bunch. Murder flashing in his blue eyes.

But Emma laughs.

A bright, peeling sound. As pretty as any bell and completely infectious.

Micah starts chortling, and Zane joins in. When Knox scowls at our little omega and she giggles louder, I replace myself chuckling, too.

Adorable mischief lights her green eyes while she skirts them to mine, leaning up on her tiptoes to whisper something to Knox. The big, lumberjack-looking fucker softens, his broad back relaxing…

Until another snowball hits him between the shoulder blades.

This time, Micah’s the one who straightens and shrugs. “Looked like fun.”

“Give us back our omega!” Zane calls, lobbing another.

Knox lifts his arm and the snowball explodes against his forearm. “You fuckers will have to come take her,” he growls, to Emma’s obvious delight. She throws her head back, blonde curls bouncing and shimmering in the morning sunlight.

Sunshine.

That’s what she is to me.

Even just standing here, looking at her, I feel warmer. I can see clearly, too. Things aren’t a dark swirl of gray anymore.

Drawn to her, I make my own snowball and start to cross the expanse between us. Knox sees me coming and throws a wad of slush, aiming for my face. While I’m dodging that, another one hits my side.

Gaping, I turn and replace that Emma has snuck out from Knox’s clutches. And now she’s ducking behind some shrubbery, laughing maniacally.

Fucking cute.

“Is that funny, squirt?” I call, tossing a much smaller snowball her way. “You think you can beat all of us?”

Micah throws one at her, and she squeals, laughing more. Zane joins in, his own musical laugh layered over hers. “Of course she can! That’s my girl!”

My Alpha chuffs at that, but I resist the urge to turn this into a pissing match. Emma is having fun. And the way she glows when she’s happy fills places inside me that I thought were dead.

Trudging through the half-foot of snow on the ground, I somehow manage to avoid her snowballs and not fall on my ass. I trip twice, but still.

When I crash onto the ground beside her, she instantly jumps into my arms, hugging me tight around the neck. “I missed you,” she breathes.

I’m grateful my scent is back to its usual nutty sweetness. I don’t want to burden her with my shit. And she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty about helping Knox through his rut or how possessive he’s been since knotting her.

Zane is taking care of that, I’d say. Thrashing the older alpha with snowball after snowball, shouting nonsense taunts while he dances from foot to foot, only narrowly avoiding getting nailed in return.

Having grown up nearby, Micah is clearly the only one around here with any snowball fight experience. He dives behind a different shrub and gestures to the two of us, silently urging us over to join him.

Emma’s bright, beaming smile has me on my hands and knees, shuffling behind her until we reach her hazel-eyed alpha. He has way more chill than me, for sure. With a contented smile, he scent-marks her forehead, murmuring his nickname for her. “Sweet girl, you look happy.”

When she nods wholeheartedly, Micah grins. “Should we let Gunnar help us, or is it every man for himself?”

Emma tucks her hands behind her back and shrugs, still smiling that goofy, wide grin. “I guess you two can form an alliance if you want… but I’m taking you all down!”

With that, she reaches out with two handfuls of snow and shoves one down each of our collars. Freezing muck hits my spine, and I curse, falling onto my front while she gives an evil villain cackle and scurries away.

Micah follows her, pausing long enough to haul me up. “On your feet, man! This is war!”

But it isn’t. It’s… fun.

We all run around the yard like idiots, slipping and flinging snowballs at each other. We fall into clusters sometimes, but betrayal runs rampant. Emma is the worst of all, sidling up to each of us in turn and giving hugs until she decides it’s more fun to smush snow on our heads.

We chase her and swing her around. Tackle her and roll her under us. McKinley even joins, running after each of us and nipping at our heels when we try to capture his beloved omega.

Micah builds snow forts with alarming efficiency. Zane kicks them down. Knox can take any hit without even flinching, but I have the best arm and the best aim, lobbing Hail Marys that land more often than not.

Emma is deeply terrible at every aspect of this game. The fact that she doesn’t give a shit and somehow has a better time than anyone else is exactly why I love her.

Laughter and insults and more laughter ring over the side of the mountain. Until we’re all dizzy and breathless, collapsing into the middle of the yard.

Knox goes down first, and Micah follows, flopping beside him. Zane slinks next to the older alpha, leaving one blank space for me.

Emma crashes onto my chest and I catch her with a huff, snuggling her cold body close. She buries her nose against my neck, humming happily. Something deep inside me clicks back together—tension I didn’t realize I was holding seeps out of my lungs.

When I exhale and turn my head, I replace Zane watching the two of us with a fond look on his face. He reaches his hand over and pets Emma’s mussed curls into place…

…then he lifts his palm and ruffles my hair, too.

“Good boy,” he mouths, doing that wink thing that he always—don’t ask me how—pulls off.

I glower at him, rolling my eyes, but that only cracks his grin wider. He leaves his hand in the snow next to my crown, and Micah reaches backward to slap it in a high-five. “Great work, Z. Solid snowball fight.”

Knox watches all of us with his sharp eyes, taking in every little detail of each exchange. I know he doesn’t necessarily like other people, but I have to say, for a self-professed hermit, the guy has crazy insight into other people.

He probably would make a great pack alpha—though, whatever he thinks he’s seeing when he narrows his eyes at Zane’s hand flips my stomach into a somersault.

A buzz interrupts us all trying to catch our breath. Micah pulls his phone out of his pocket. The light, airy scent of mint and frost immediately plummets into something sharp and cold.

Emma lifts her head from my chest, eyes wide. “What is it?”

Micah frowns at the screen. “It’s the road. They fixed it. We’re all free to go.”