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

Do I feel bad for turning Knox’s dog into my accomplice?

Sort of.

But using him as an alarm clock has been the best way to sneak downstairs and sleep curled up between the couch and Micah’s cot.

McKinley doesn’t wake the others—he just comes over and gives my face a good lick when the sun starts to come up. Though, one of the alphas must be on to me. I’ve found a random pillow and an extra blanket waiting for me the last couple of nights.

I crack one eye open when a cold nose sniffs my hair, McKinley’s silky fur brushing my ear. With a near-silent giggle, I reach up to pet his head. “Hey, boy.”

He makes a pitiful sound in his throat, and I pop my head up, looking around the living room where three alphas are still crashed out.

Three… because Knox is already gone.

Zane has his mouth hanging open and his arm dangling off the edge of the sofa. Without his sly smirks and sexy winks, he looks boyish and sweet while he snores.

Micah is sprawled beside me, his large, brawny body stretched in all directions. Gunnar is the cutest, though, snuggled under three different blankets like a true Florida boy, and pouting in his dreams.

McKinley boops my leg, clearly wanting me to get up and let him out. I figure it’s fine since the snow finally stopped falling after dinner last night. Micah said we would all be able to get outside more today, even if we still can’t drive anywhere.

While McKinley loops around the room in excited circles, I go searching for some shoes. Zane’s furry boots are way too big, but they’re the first ones I find, so I lace them as tightly as I can and throw my body weight into opening the sliding glass door at the back of the enormous A-frame living space.

Whoa.

This place is beautiful!

It’s a literal winter wonderland—gleaming snow drifts, distant mountain peaks, golden morning mist, and towering pine trees. There’s a frozen pond fifty yards off in one direction and the entrance to a hiking path on the opposite side of the field.

Fresh white powder has covered the whole expanse like pristine velvet, tucked snuggly over the cliff outlined by a low log fence.

For a second, I breathe deep, smiling to myself when the frosty, wooded scent reminds me of being wedged between Micah and Knox. Off in the distance, a pair of songbirds warble to each other. There’s also a distant thumping sound that pricks McKinley’s ears.

He must be used to whatever it is because instead of investigating, he loses interest and trots back to the house. When I see he has a doggy door he could have used instead of waking me up, I snort a laugh.

Oh well. I slept most of the day away yesterday, recovering from Zane blowing my mind to smithereens.

And today? I really need to figure out how to approach this whole four-separate-mates thing.

Well.

Three.

Apart from holding me after I fainted and a few vague concerns about my well-being, Knox hasn’t exactly made his intentions clear. I guess none of them have said anything explicit, apart from insisting they aren’t leaving here without me.

Even if he wanted to, Knox can’t leave. He lives here, and we’re all intruding.

I don’t know if I understood the appeal of his place before this moment. But as I look out at the crystal landscape, something in my chest catches.

Whatever he did to make all this money… wherever he came from before… he left it all behind to come here and have some peace.

Shame curls in my middle while I consider that. Really, we’ve all barged into his home without any apologies. The man clearly built his life so he could be alone—we’re ruining his solitude, and none of us have even said thank you. Not to mention the way I’ve bombarded him with my scent and the connection I feel toward his Alpha.

Another thwack rings out over the stillness, followed by two more. I assume it must be the reclusive alpha since his dog seemed so used to the noise. When I follow it around the side of the big, empty cabin, all the air hisses out of my lungs.

Oh.

Holy.

Night.

It’s the mountain man, all right. With his red flannel shirt rolled over his brawny forearms and hanging open around his glistening chest. And his tan baseball cap, sitting atop thick brown hair. Backward.

He plants his feet, the thick soles of his leather boots crunching snow as he arches his body back—holy flapjacks, he has muscles—and swings the tool gripped his fists straight down.

Thwack.

The log positioned on a larger stump cracks, splitting into two pieces of dry timber.

Oh. Firewood.

Knox bends to pick up the logs, tossing them onto a big tarp he has spread beside him. He already has quite a stack there—meaning he’s been at this for a while.

…which would explain why he wedges his axe into the stump and shrugs his shirt off, pausing to wipe down his dark chest hair and the tight thickness of his abdomen. He turns to toss the shirt aside, flashing a glimpse of his wide, chiseled back.

This time, when he sets up another log, I see every tiny twitch of muscle as he rears back and swings down.

Lord. He’s… magnificent.

Handsome and strong and rugged, of course. But there’s something so attractive about how capable he is, too. The no-nonsense way he moves, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it.

His thick scent—cedar and pine needles—swirls into the cold air, tickling my lungs when I gasp. My core clenches as my own scent swells up to meet his. Knox’s shoulders go stiff when he senses it. The axe dangles from his hand as his head snaps in my direction.

For a moment, everything is still. Without the thwack of his blade or the sound of the birds. Even the wind holds its breath while our gazes connect.

Something thick and hot bolts down my throat, settling into the tender place at the bottom of my ribs. It expands and thrums; the energy so intense and palpable, I can’t inhale around it.

He feels it, too. I know he does because his blue gaze sparks, smoldering with want and warmth, and something that almost looks like bewilderment.

After a long pause, his thick brows lower over those piercing eyes. “You shouldn’t be out here while I’m working,” he gruffs. “It isn’t safe for a little thing like you.”

He’s called me that a few times. Little thing. Little miss. The sorts of names that would make Lucy scrunch her nose in outrage.

I’d probably hate it more if not for the fact that I’ve always considered myself a bit too big for an omega. Taller and thicker than my sister or Meg, for sure. To a strapping man like Knox, though… I am little.

I still ignore his patronizing and try for a bright smile. “I can help! Just show me what to do.”

I swear he blanches. “Over my dead body,” he grumbles, swinging the axe into the stump and leaving it there, standing upright. My stomach flips as he starts toward me, bending to snatch something off the ground.

A coat.

His coat, judging by the woodsy musk clinging to it.

Knox drapes the thick material around my body, frowning down at me. “You’ll get cold again,” he says, quiet.

He fusses with the back of the heavy collar, pulling my curls free and smoothing them back. When he catches me gaping at him, he sighs.

The oddest sort of pained resignation pulls the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. I can’t tell if it’s from wanting to turn me away but not being able to…

…or the opposite.

Knox looks right into me for the dozenth time, reading my questions and answering in a low timbre, “Go back inside, little miss. This is no place for you.”

His hand is still curled into my loose hair, his calloused fingers woven into the blonde disarray. And I know I should know better—really, guys, I know—but some silly, hopeful piece of me believes that his actions mean more than his words.

My hands shake as I raise them to his chest. Cool sweat mists his skin, but the muscles underneath warm my chilled fingers. I feel his heart lurch, the throb behind his pecs reaching out to touch me back.

Calloused fingertips graze my scalp as his hand flexes, nostrils flaring on an audible exhale. “Damn it, Emma,” Knox growls, but steps closer. “You need to go.”

He has more dormant dominance than any other alpha I know. Ordinarily, a force this powerful would send me scrambling to escape, but this is a riptide, drawing me closer.

I’m not scared of him. He doesn’t seem angry. More… afraid?

“Why?” I ask, staring up into his blue eyes while I whisper. “Why do I need to go?”

Because I suddenly understand—he isn’t just saying I need to go inside. He knows as well as I do that standing out here while he works is perfectly safe. That he would never let anything happen to me—hypothermia included.

He’s saying that I need to leave.

Leave him.

Pain carves dark grooves in the ice of his irises, a scrape that echoes through my own chest.

Does he live out here all alone because he wants to? Or because he thinks he should?

The thought cleaves my heart in two, just like one of his logs. “Knox,” I say softly, stepping closer. “Why do you think I need to go?”

He grits his teeth, obviously warring with himself, but never drops my gaze. “It isn’t safe here,” he repeats, beseeching me with every blink. Begging me to understand.

I’m not sure why I do. I’m the clueless one, remember? Dumb and needy and so optimistic it’s practically a liability. Yet, as I stand in the cold, clean air, breathing the burned scent of his stress, I get it.

“It’s not safe for me,” I say slowly, raising my brows, “or you’re not?”

When a sharp dart of misery cracks across his face, I know I’m right. An instinctive jolt of fear streaks down my spine, arching my back and drawing a quivering gasp.

Knox’s jaw sets, his eyes flashing. “I would never hurt you on purpose,” he bites out. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m just⁠—”

Strong.

He doesn’t say the word, but he flexes that indomitable power, carefully squeezing the air from my lungs just to show that he can. A display of everything he has buried under his stoic silences and intense stares.

“It isn’t right,” he finally roughs out. “The way I am. It isn’t fair to other alphas. Or to an omega.”

I see what he means. If this is just a taste of his potency, Knox would definitely be too powerful for any other alphas to disobey him… which means he could clobber me if he wanted to.

I’ve never been much good at shutting up, but my mouth stays closed as I watch him roll his lips together, his chest heaving fast on deep breaths while he continues, “If I formed a pack with anyone, it wouldn’t be a pack. It would be me overpowering everyone else at every turn.”

His swallow is thick. I watch his stubbled throat work over it slowly before he admits, “I’ve tried. Years ago, when I was young like those guys in there. I had a group of alphas as friends. We were going to start my business together and form a pack. I didn’t realize my dominance was overpowering them at every turn—I thought we all naturally agreed on things. Turns out, I was a tyrant and didn’t even notice.”

My whole heart aches for him, and he hasn’t even gotten to the bad part yet. But it doesn’t matter. I know what it’s like to think a pack wants you and find out they don’t.

I slip my hands down his torso and wrap my arms around his waist, turning to press my cheek over his sternum. His body stiffens, brittle and unbending. When I rub my scent-mark at the base of his throat, he releases a shaky exhale.

“Tell me what happened,” I murmur, stroking the small of his back.

“It wasn’t anything big,” he insists, rasping. “But remember when I told you that you were smart to leave when you did? Well, I wasn’t smart. By the time I had the whole business set up, the others had already found their omega behind my back. While I was working around the clock, they were courting her.

“When I found out, I lost my shit. Tried challenging one of them to get control of the pack back. But all that did was terrify the omega they wanted to bond. Which finally convinced me to walk away—I hated that I had scared her, but I didn’t feel anything for her. I realized, if she belonged with them, I didn’t.”

My eyes well and spill, imagining how much he must have hurt. Clearly, he went on to be successful anyway. But they took away something so much more important than a business.

He’s spent all this time alone because he didn’t trust himself to be a good alpha. Sort of the way I’ve been questioning my instincts every moment since I woke up in his bed.

A lump blocks my breath, squeezing more tears from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Knox. I—I don’t know if it means anything, but I don’t think your Alpha is scary. I like him.”

The words tangle on my tongue, but once they’re out, I hear how true they are. Just remembering the way he barked my name, telling me to look at him while I came on Micah’s cock…

Perfume winds into the air as slick dribbles down my thighs. Knox’s entire body shudders. His eyes fall shut as his teeth grind, jaw flexing under his dark beard. When his gaze snaps back to mine, the blue seethes.

“You think that now,” he grinds out. “But what about during your heat, when you’re vulnerable? Or if I went into a fucking rut? If I ever lost control, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from barking—and you wouldn’t be able to tell me no.”

Well, I guess we’ve officially confirmed that there is something very wrong with me—because the thought of Knox losing his mind, barking me into submission, and rutting me through his headboard doesn’t scare me at all. It only makes a thicker stream of slick slip from my core.

Scenting my arousal, the bare-chested alpha growls low. “Emma,” he rasps, cheek muscles clenching even as his eyes soften. “Honey, that can never happen. It would fucking kill me, do you understand? If you were going to stay here, we would need the others to keep an eye on me. And even that wouldn’t be enough.”

Because he would bark, and they would back down. Although, Gunnar fought him pretty hard when he came barging in. And Micah’s never had an issue meeting this alpha’s steely blue gaze in challenge when he wants to.

Zane works differently. He might not step up to Knox directly, but he holds his own with his quick mind and his charm. He wouldn’t necessarily need physical strength or big-knot energy to assert himself.

And what about me? I bite my lip, considering, while we stare at each other.

Knox has told me to go inside. Multiple times. And I’m still here.

Honestly, though? Even if I couldn’t resist his dominance, I don’t know if I believe he’d ever use it for anything other than keeping me safe. When he barked on that first day, he only did it to keep Gunnar—who he thought was a stranger—away from me. And, before that, to make sure I felt secure during my heat-spike.

He didn’t bark when I broke his window. Or cried about it. He still isn’t, now.

This is the part where I’m supposed to doubt the swelling certainty engulfing my gut. That’s what a smart person would do. Someone who isn’t naive.

I can’t question this, though. I’ve never felt anything so solid or real.

This alpha is my mate, and he’s been hurt.

That look in his eyes? The haunted, resigned one? It’s loneliness.

My chest rumbles, a pitiful omega purr rattling beneath my breasts. Knox snaps his eyes down, his tight mouth falling open in shock.

Which is sort of adorable.

I skim my touch up his back muscles, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss the slash of his jaw. “I’m not afraid of you, Alpha,” I whisper around my purr. “I think you’re good. And I think everything you want is good, too.”

His answers with an unsteady exhale. I nuzzle my cheek into his beard, leaving my scent there. “That other pack was wrong not to communicate with you,” I tell him. “If they had, you would have listened. They should have known that. I’ve only been with you for a short time, and I already believe you just want the best for everyone.”

Fire snaps back into his gaze. He opens his mouth to argue, but I press gentle fingers to his lips. “Think about it, Knox. You’ve been in self-imposed exile. All because you didn’t trust yourself not to wield some sort of undue influence over other people. That’s a good person. With good intentions.”

I try for a small smile. “Besides, McKinley is obviously a brilliant judge of character, and he loves you.”

Knox huffs a surprised laugh, but his eyes turn soft again. One big, rough palm floats up to cup my face. “He might love you more, little miss. I’ve never seen him take to anyone like he has to you.”

This time, the nickname makes me wrinkle my nose. Remembering what I said about his old pack and communication, I cock my head at him. “Are we totally set on the whole ‘little miss’ thing? Because it sort of makes me feel like I should be calling you ‘Daddy’.”

An Earth-melting wave of cedar musk rolls off him, betraying how much he likes the sound of that.

I’m… surprised.

The big, grumpy mountain man… wants me to call him Daddy?

I mean…

Yes, please?

Still, it’s so unlike him that I find myself smiling again. His thick eyebrow arches as he scans my expression. “Something funny, little miss?”

The solid weight of his influence presses into my diaphragm until I’m short of breath. “Not funny,” I titter, “I just… I’ve never called anyone that.”

His free hand clamps around the place where my backside meets my thigh, the touch as inherently possessive as his fingers wrapped into the hair at my nape.

“That’s because no one has ever taken proper care of you,” he husks. “Not the way I would if I was your alpha.”

If?! my Omega shrieks.

When I whine with want, perfuming harder than before, his lips quirk up slightly at the corners. “You should go back inside,” he says, softly this time. “Give one of those lucky bastards the wake-up of a lifetime.”

He’s selfless by nature. Turning me on and willingly sending me to one of the other guys. Not even considering that he could have me.

It solidifies all the certainty inside of me, until my grin hurts my face. “I don’t know, Daddy. I think I need you to take care of me. Maybe you should show the others how to—eep!”

Can confirm—the magical landscape looks just as pretty hanging upside-down over a mountain man’s shoulder.