Page 67 of Knot Her Beta

And Auren is a bad person, not because he insulted me or dug at my insecurities, but because of how fast he reduced this amazing, giving Alpha to a woman struggling to hold it together.

Auren learned all the ways to manipulate Emily into giving him what he wanted, undermining her confidence and sense of self-worth until he became the barometer by which she measured her value.

I recognize it because I’ve been there myself.

Carson didn’t cry or pretend to be fragile, but the mechanism was the same. Find the softest part of someone and keep pushing until they break.

My throat closes, and I have to look away, out the kitchen window, where the garden lies dark, and Emily’s wind chimes hang motionless in the cold air.

When I turn back, Emily is still braced at the counter, but the tension in her shoulders has eased by a fraction. Jared’s hand on her back and his reassurances did that.

Just simple touch, and his steady presence. No grand speeches required.

I move to her other side, curling my fingers around her elbow. She turns her head, and her gray eyes meet mine, the color flat and exhausted.

“Come sit,” I say. “We can finish the dishes in the morning.”

Her eyes hold mine for a long moment before she takes my hand, and she lets me draw her away from the counter. Away from the sink.

Back in the living room, I guide her to the couch, and she sinks down beside me. The movie is still frozen on a spaceship mid-explosion, but I don’t reach for the remote.

Emily sits with her spine straight, knees together, hands flat on her thighs, the pulse in her throat a fast, shallow flutter.

I release my pheromones in a slow, deliberate release, the fresh linen and sun-warmed cedar of my scent settling into the air around us. Steady. Grounding. The way I used to do for students having panic attacks before tests, back when I was still teaching.

A hard shudder goes through Emily, starting at her shoulders and rolling down her spine. Her head drops forward an inch, and when she lifts it, her breathing has slowed and grown deeper, while the scorched flannel scent returns to normal.

Even though Jared can’t sense what I’m doing, he must understand, because he drops onto the couch on her other side, his thigh settling alongside hers, and begins to purr. The rough, rumbling sound travels through his chest and into the couch frame, carrying through the cushions and into Emily where their bodies touch. Her rib cage expands on the next inhale, holds, and releases.

Jared’s thumb finds the inside of her wrist, tracing the delicate veins there in slow circles, and her fingers curl toward her palm.

I reach up and brush her hair back from her neck, silver strands sliding through my fingers, and brush a kiss across her temple. Her skin is warm, slightly damp at the hairline. I follow with another at her cheekbone, then the angle of her jaw, and her pulse jumps beneath my lips.

Emily tips her head back, her breathing deepening, her scent warming, crushed clover blooming under the warm flannel note, and beneath that, the richer scent of Alpha musk that turns my mouth dry.

Jared’s purr shifts, the vibration deepening, and his thumb moves from her wrist to the inside of her elbow, tracing the tendon there.

Then, all at once, the air thickens with pheromones, Jared’s salt air and driftwood mingling with my cedar, Emily’s clover warming between us. Her hand finds my knee, fingers digging in, and a desperate sound escapes her, edged with desire.

Jared’s arm slips around her waist, and he shifts sideways on the couch to lean against the arm as he lifts her onto his lap. She straddles him, knees on either side of his hips. His hands slide beneath the hem of her shirt, and Emily’s breath catches.

I lean forward, my mouth finding the back of her neck, the curve where it meets her shoulder, and I kiss the warm skin there.

Her shirt rides up as Jared’s hands work higher, and I help him, gathering the fabric and pulling it up over her head.

Emily’s arms lift, compliant, and the shirt comes away to reveal her simple cotton bra. Jared’s fingers find the clasp at the front, and it comes undone. The straps slide down her arms, and Jared cups her full breasts in both hands, thumbs circling her nipples.

Emily arches into his touch with a gasp, and Jared’s attention never leaves her. Mine doesn’t either, following every flicker across her features, every shift in her breathing to ensure she’s okay with what’s happening.

When she moans, Jared lowers his head and takes one nipple into his mouth. He sucks, grazing it with his teeth just enough to cause her to jerk, and Emily rocks into him, her hips finding a rhythm that has nothing to do with comfort anymore.

My hands move over her back, tracing the muscles there, the strong line of her shoulders, the groove of her spine, and the roundness of her ass. My lips find the back of her shoulder, and I breathe her in, savoring the familiar scent of her skin that I’ve been without for so long.

My pheromones respond, blooming warmer, cedar deepening toward that unmistakable Omega sweetness. Emily’s next inhale hitches, and her head turns, seeking. I kiss the hinge of her jaw, my hand splaying across her stomach where it rests on Jared’s chest.

Jared’s hands move to her jeans, working the button open, dragging the zipper down. Emily reaches back, her fingers finding my hip, gripping hard enough that I feel the pressure through my khakis. I cover her hand with mine and hold it there.

Together, we strip her. Jared pushes her jeans down her thighs, and she lifts her hips to help, the denim catching at her knees before it gives way. I take one ankle, then the other, pulling the jeans free and dropping them to the floor. Her underwear follows, Jared’s hand hooking under the elastic and guiding it down while my palm slides up the inside of her thigh, feeling the muscle tense under my touch.