Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
HOLLY
I’m practically dead on my feet by the time I pull into Kai’s driveway after a long week at the clinic, looking forward to my first night off.
Two more children came in with symptoms matching the Frost twins, and Dr. Mercer dismissed every single case as a viral syndrome without ordering any of the tests I recommended.
My frustration sits like a rock in my stomach, heavy and immovable.
At least I have the house to myself tonight. Noah texted that he’s covering the late shift at the clinic, and Grayson is working inventory at the general store until closing. An evening alone sounds perfect—just me, a hot shower, and maybe a glass of wine before I collapse into bed.
I fumble with my keys at the front door, nearly dropping them twice before I get inside.
The house is quiet and dark except for a light spilling from the kitchen.
I drop my medical bag by the door and kick off my shoes, rolling my shoulders to release the tension built up from hunching over charts all day.
A loud crash from the kitchen makes me jump.
“Shit! Fuck! Goddammit!”
Kai’s voice, I realize as he continues to curse with increasing creativity. I rush toward the kitchen, my exhaustion forgotten.
“Kai? You okay?”
I round the corner to find him standing at the counter, cradling his left hand. Blood drips onto the cutting board beside a half-chopped onion and a wicked-looking chef’s knife.
“Oh hey, Hollipop.” He grins at me, but it’s strained around the edges. “Just a little kitchen mishap. Nothing to worry about.”
Blood continues to drip steadily from between his fingers. I immediately shift into medical mode, crossing to his side.
“Let me see.”
“It’s fine, really. I was making dinner and—“
“Kai.” I use my no-nonsense doctor voice. “Show me your hand.”
He sighs dramatically but extends his hand. I gently unwrap his fingers from around the wound—a deep laceration across his palm that’s bleeding freely.
“This might need stitches,” I say, grabbing a clean kitchen towel to apply pressure.
“Nah, just slap a bandage on it.” He winces as I press the towel firmly against the cut. “Fuck, that stings.”
“What happened?” I ask, keeping steady pressure on the wound.
“Used a dull knife like a lazy piece of shit.” He gestures toward the offending blade with his good hand.
“Been meaning to sharpen them for weeks. Did you know dull knives are actually more dangerous than sharp ones? You have to use more force, which means when you slip—which you inevitably will from treating your knife like a hatchet—you cut yourself worse than you would with a properly maintained knife.”
His rambling has a nervous edge to it. I’ve noticed Kai tends to talk more when he’s uncomfortable, filling silences with chatter.
“First aid kit?” I ask, interrupting what’s becoming a dissertation on knife maintenance.
“Medicine cabinet in my bathroom,” he says, looking relieved at the change of subject. “Upstairs, second door on the left.”
“Keep pressure on this,” I instruct, guiding his right hand to hold the towel in place. “I’ll be right back.”
I head upstairs, finding Kai’s bathroom without difficulty.
It’s surprisingly neat, with expensive-looking products arranged on the counter and fluffy towels hanging perfectly straight.
The medicine cabinet reveals an equally organized interior—toothpaste, dental floss, cologne, and several prescription bottles.
I grab the first-aid kit from the bottom shelf, but my eyes catch on one of the prescription bottles. It isn’t an intentional decision to invade his privacy, but I read the label on instinct before I even realize I’m doing it.
Alphastat 50mg is printed in large block letters above Kai’s full name.
It’s a drug that I immediately recognize. Alphastat is a powerful rut blocker that alphas sometimes take to suppress their biological urges.
I hesitate, guilt washing over me for the invasion of privacy.
I should just take the first aid kit and go.
But something makes me pick up the bottle, noting the recent fill date and the instructions to take it twice daily.
The prescription is from Dr. Mercer, which does surprise me.
Mercer doesn’t seem the type to support designation suppression for alphas.
Closing the cabinet, I head back downstairs with the first aid kit and my new knowledge weighing on me. Kai is still at the counter, looking pale but maintaining pressure on his wound.
“Found it,” I say, setting the first aid kit down and washing my hands thoroughly in the sink. “Let’s get you patched up.”
I work as quickly as I can, ignoring Kai’s creative swearing as I clean the wound with antiseptic.
I’d prefer to stitch up the wound, but he won’t even consider the suggestion so I apply butterfly bandages to hold the edges together, and wrapping his hand with gauze.
As I work, my mind keeps circling back to the pills in his bathroom.
Despite his constant flirting and innuendos, Kai hasn’t made any real moves toward me physically.
Noah and Grayson have both been clearly interested in establishing the physical side of our relationship, but Kai seems content to cook for me, make me laugh, and generally take care of my non-sexual needs.
Which doesn’t track with what I know about alphas, especially unmated ones around an omega.
“All done,” I say, securing the bandage with medical tape. “Try to keep it dry for twenty-four hours. If it starts bleeding again, I’m going to have Grayson and Noah hold you down if you won’t let me give you stitches.”
“Yes, doctor.” He winks, but it lacks his usual sparkle. “Sorry about dinner. I was trying to make stir-fry.”
“I can finish it,” I offer, moving to clean up the bloody mess on the counter.
“Nah, you look exhausted. We can order pizza or something.”
I nod, disposing of the bloody towel and used medical supplies. The question about the pills burns in my throat, but I hesitate. It feels invasive, crossing a line I shouldn’t cross.
But we’re a pack now. And packs don’t keep secrets, do they?
“Kai,” I begin carefully, washing my hands again to buy time. “I saw something in your medicine cabinet.”
His cheerful expression freezes. “Oh?”
“I saw your rut blockers.” I turn to face him. “I wasn’t snooping, I promise. I just noticed them when I was getting the first-aid kit.”
Kai’s shoulders slump slightly. He leans against the counter, his bandaged hand cradled against his chest.
“Yeah, well. Cat’s out of the bag, I guess.” He attempts a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Been taking them for a few years now.”
“Why?” The question comes out before I can stop it. “I mean, it’s your business, obviously. But I’m curious.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, his usual rapid-fire speech nowhere to be found. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it.
“I’ve never felt like an alpha. Not really.” He stares at the floor. “Everyone expects certain things from alphas, you know? Be aggressive. Be dominant. Take what you want. And I just... that’s not me.”
I lean against the counter beside him, close enough that our shoulders almost touch.
“It’s easier to suppress those urges entirely than to pretend to be something I’m not,” he continues. “With the pills, I don’t worry so much about wanting things I can’t have.”
“But you’re amazing,” I say, genuinely confused. “I’ve seen you with Noah and Grayson. With me. You’re caring and protective and—“
“That’s different.” He interrupts, finally looking up at me. “That’s just...being a decent person. But when it comes to the other stuff—the alpha stuff—I freeze up.”
I think about how Kai is always the one to defuse tensions between Noah and Grayson. How he makes sure everyone is fed and comfortable. How he touches me casually but never pushes for more.
“What other stuff, exactly?” I ask gently.
He gestures vaguely with his good hand. “You know. The sex stuff. The dominance games. The posturing. I’m just not wired that way, I guess.”
“Have you ever been with an omega before?” The question feels intimate, but necessary.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Beta women, mostly. A few alpha women who were into the whole role-reversal thing.” He shrugs, looking almost apologetic on behalf of the women he’s been with. “The sex was fine. Nothing earth-shattering.”
I process this information, trying to understand. “So with me you don’t want…“
“I want,” he says quickly, his eyes meeting mine with unexpected intensity. “God, Holly, I want. But I don’t know how to...I don’t know if I can be what you need.”
Something in my chest aches at the vulnerability in his voice. This confident and charming man, who seems to have everything—money, looks, friends—is standing here telling me he feels inadequate.
“Maybe you should let me decide what I need,” I suggest softly.
Kai studies me for a long moment, then straightens up, decision made. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“Now? With your hand like that?”
“It’s not far.” He’s already moving toward the door, grabbing his keys from the hook by the entrance. “And I think it might help you understand.”
Curiosity overrides my exhaustion. I follow him out to his ridiculous sports car, sliding into the passenger seat as he starts the engine with his good hand.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we pull out of the driveway.
Kai’s smile is small but genuine. “The springs. There’s something there I think you should see.”