Page 56 of Knot Her Beta

I open my mouth to respond just as the kitchen door swings open, and Leif steps through, one hand still on the knob, a folder tucked under his arm. He’s already in his teaching clothes, with a burgundy button-down, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dark khaki pants.

His pace slows when every head turns toward him at once. “What’s going on?”

Blake doesn’t hesitate. “We asked them to join the pack. And the timing is perfect with them trying for a pup.”

Stunned, Leif goes completely still. “What?”

The word comes out quietly, almost lost. He takes a step back, shaking his head as if trying to clear his ears.

His hand drags through his mauve hair, leaving it disheveled. “I—I left something at my cabin.”

It’s a terrible excuse. The worst kind. No one at the table buys it, including him. His shoulders draw tight, and he turns before anyone can call him on it, walking out fast, the door swinging shut behind him.

Jared mutters under his breath, “Fuck.”

I leap to my feet, the chair scraping back.

“You’ve got a big ass mouth,” I throw at Blake as I pass, chasing after Leif.

The kitchen is empty, and I hurry out the side door, following the faint trace of burned linen and cedar.

I catch him halfway down the path, just before the fork toward his cabin. My boots crunch on the frost-stiffened hay, each step loud in the morning quiet. “Leif, wait.”

He stops but doesn’t turn right away. His shoulders sit tight under his jacket, hands clenched at his sides as if he’s holding himself together by force.

I continue forward until I stand behind him. “We weren’t trying to hide it. But we didn’t want to jinx it when it’s still so early.”

He lets out a rough breath, fogging the cold air between us, and turns toward me. His periwinkle eyes find mine, and I struggle to decipher the emotion hidden in their depths. It’s not anger. Not hurt, either. No, it’s closer to panic.

“You’re trying for a pup,” he says. “You want to carry.”

I hesitate, then push through it. “The risks are high, and the chances are low, and we don’t even know if it’s going to happen. I might not—” I cut myself off. “That’s not the point.”

The path we’re on is narrow, the branches of the trees heavy with melting frost, the drips loud in the quiet. Above the tree line, the sky hangs gray-white, the winter light flat and diffused with the promise of more cold to come.

Leif’s jaw works, and then his shoulders drop a fraction, the tension bleeding out of them. “I want pups. I always have.”

I take a step forward. “Yeah?”

Leif huffs out a breath that almost becomes a laugh. “Yeah.”

He moves first, his hand catching my jaw before I register that he’s closed the distance, and then his mouth claims mine, as if he’s been holding back and now lost the patience needed to wait for permission.

My breath locks up as both of my hands close around the lapels of his jacket, and I pull him in, craving the velvet heat of his hot depths.

It’s been months of careful distance, of persuading myself the memory of kissing him was exaggerated, that time had made the firmness of his lips more significant than they were in real life.

It didn’t.

My hands find their way to his hair, my tongue sweeping past his lips to delve deeper. A whine escapes him, and heat burns low in my stomach in response. His pheromones shift with it, a sweet note adding to the cedar and sun-warmed linen of his natural scent, and his hands leave my jaw and find my hips, tugging us into alignment until the hard proof of his desire settles at my core.

When we break apart, we don’t go far, hands still on each other, breaths mingling. The bond flutters behind my sternum, quiet but insistent, a thing waking up after too long asleep.

Leif’s hand drifts to my stomach. “I always thought I’d be the one to carry our first pup.”

I swallow hard. “You still might be. We don’t know⁠—”

“Shh.” He kisses me with less fervor this time. “Whether I carry for the first, or we wait until you give birth so I can carry our second, it’s okay. Because we’re going to be pack, right? You and Jared are joining the Wrights?”