Then I see her.
Carolina.
She’s standing near the front, blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, veins standing out on her forehead as she thrusts her paddle up again and again. I forgot about her after last summer, after we very politely but very firmly told her we weren’t interested in anything she was offering. She’s been gunning for us ever since, apparently.
“Six thousand!” she yells, her voice echoing across the gym.
The room murmurs. Parker’s hand falters for half a second. We don’t have six thousand.
“Six thousand five hundred!” Carolina shouts, standing fully now, eyes locked on Fox like she’s won already.
Parker’s paddle stays down, her whole body trembling against my side. For the first time in Knotlocke auction history, someone has bid higher any other auction. And it just so happened to happen with our man.
I tighten my grip on Parker, pressing my lips to her forehead when I catch a flurry of baseball uniforms popping up around the gym. Our team must have snuck in at some point, Harlow and Theo a few seats over, the rest behind us and on my left. They shrug off their jackets, each holding their own paddle to up the price.
Jamal raises his paddle from the back. “Six seven fifty!”
Theo follows immediately. “Six eight hundred!”
One by one, our teammates start throwing ridiculously small bids, twenty here, fifty there, like they’re daring Carolina to keepup. The crowd starts laughing. The organizer looks bewildered but keeps calling the numbers.
“Seven thousand two hundred fifty-nine!” someone yells from the baseball section.
Harlow stands up near the front, paddle high, calm as ever. “Let’s make it an even eight thousand, shall we?”
The entire hall erupts into more laughter. Parker makes a broken sound and buries her face in my chest, shoulders shaking. Tears soak through my shirt. I hold her tighter, kissing the top of her head as the organizer calls it.
“Eight thousand dollars—sold to paddle forty-two!”
The cheering is deafening. Parker lifts her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Harlow turns around immediately, pushing through people to reach us. She pulls Parker into a crushing hug. “We couldn’t let someone else get him,” Harlow says fiercely, voice thick. “Not when we all know he belongs to you two.”
Parker sobs once, then laughs through it, clinging to Harlow like she’s the only thing keeping her upright. The whole baseball section is on their feet, whooping and hollering. From somewhere in the chaos, I hear Milo’s unmistakable voice cut through the noise.
“Suck that, you nasty bitch!”
Quentin’s hand immediately clamps over his brother’s mouth, eyes wide with secondhand embarrassment, but the damage is done. The entire room loses it.
I pull Parker back to me, wrapping my arms around her, relief pouring through me. “Alright,” I say, voice rough with everything I’m feeling, “so where is he taking us to dinner?”
Parker glares up at me, tears still clinging to her lashes, but there’s fire in her eyes now. She grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me down until our foreheads touch.
“Fuck dinner,” she growls. “I want a mating bond.”
parker
ThesecondFoxstepsoff the stage, I snap. My hand shoots out and grabs Arlo’s so hard my nails dig into his palm. At the same time, I seize Fox’s wrist with my other hand and yank both of them backstage before anyone can clap, congratulate, or get in our fucking way. My heart is slamming against my ribs so violently I feel it in my throat, in my wrists, and between my legs. The possessive snarl that’s been building in my chest since I saw Carolina’s paddle go up finally rips free the moment the heavy black curtain falls shut behind us.
“Fuck the dinner,” I growl, voice shaking with days of pent-up need and fear and love. “Fuck the auction. Fuck the team money. Fuck everything except me. Right now.”
Fox’s dark eyes flare with desire as Arlo’s grin turns hungry, that playful, pleasure-focused edge flashing in the low light.
I don’t wait for permission. I don’t even speak again. I just drag them. My legs are moving on pure instinct, past startledstaff and discarded props and half-dressed Alphas who stare as we blow past them.
Every step makes fresh slick coat my panties until I’m a wet, bumbling mess. My scent is completely out of control, thick, sweet peach and warm vanilla so heavy it trails behind us like a banner, announcing exactly what’s about to happen.
By the time we burst out the side exit and cross campus, my hands are trembling so badly that I fumble the key to my dorm twice. Arlo gently takes it from me, unlocks the door, and the second all three of us are inside, I slam it shut and flip the deadbolt with a loud, final click that echoes in the small room.
My nest is waiting in the corner, blankets, hoodies, pillows, and sheets all arranged exactly how I like them, already prepared exactly for this moment. I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted but the moment I saw Fox on that stage, I knew.
