Chapter 26 Pine
PINE
Sharon walks into my studio on a Thursday afternoon with a determination in her expression. She's wearing an oversized sweater, and her scent is a thing of the past, it makes me smile knowing that my omega just walked in. She's not any bonded omega, but mine.
"Pine Burnside," she says, walking straight to the counter where I'm organizing appointment books. "I want a tattoo."
I look up, and my hands actually freeze mid-motion. Of all the things I thought she might say to me today, this wasn't on the list. "What?"
"You have one," she continues, gesturing to my exposed forearms where my sleeve tattoos are clearly visible. "Cassian does and Jett too. I want one. And I want you to design it for me."
“I know that you said you wanted one, but I supposed I didn’t take it seriously.”
“You mean you don’t take men seriously?” She asks, frowning, but I know she’s teasing.
“Of course I do.”
“Well, I want one…or maybe two,” Sharon says, and she's moving closer to me now, her movements confident despite the nervousness radiating off her.
“I designed one for you before.”
She nods. “I know, but now I want something that represents who I am now, not who I was before I found you guys. My transformation. My rebirth."
She pauses, her fingers tracing the edge of the counter between us.
"But I also want something that represents the pack," she continues. "Something that shows our connection. Our bond. I want both. The phoenix for me, and something else for us."
I set down the appointment book and give her my full attention. The fluorescent lights overhead cast shadows across her face, highlighting the serious set of her jaw. "Okay. Let's do this."
I flip the sign on the door to closed early, even though I had walk-ins scheduled. This isn't just about getting a tattoo. This is about Sharon making a choice. This is about her claiming something that belongs to her.
We move to the back of the studio where I have my private workspace. The lighting here is softer, more intimate. The walls are lined with sketches and designs and photographs of previous work. There's a comfort to this space that makes people feel safe enough to be vulnerable.
Sharon sits on the tattoo chair, and I can see her trying to figure out how to position herself. I walk over and adjust the chair height, showing her how to settle into it so she's comfortable. The leather creaks under her weight as she shifts.
"So where do you want this?" I ask, pulling on a fresh pair of latex gloves. The snap of latex echoes in the quiet room. "Somewhere my pack can see it?"
She looks up at me with a small smile. "I want to be able to see it when I look down, and you guys to see it when you look at me."
"Ribs or hip area," I suggest. "And they're places that are... intimate."
I watch as Sharon considers this, her expression thoughtful.
Her hand comes up to her side, and she traces an imaginary line along her ribs.
"Ribs," she decides. "I want it on my ribs.
High enough that I can see it, low enough that it's not going to be visible unless I'm wearing something revealing. "
"We're going to need to move your sweater," I say practically. "I can give you a private screen if you want privacy while you change."
“Don’t be silly, you’ve seen all of me,” Sharon says, and there's something confident in her voice.
She pulls off her sweater, and I have to take a moment to just..
. look. She's wearing a simple black bra underneath, and her skin is beautiful.
Soft curves that I've touched before but never with the intention of marking her permanently.
Her scent is stronger now that less fabric is between us and the air, filling the small space with strawberry and honey.
"Lie back for me," I say, my voice a little rougher than I intend. "We need to find the exact placement that feels right."
She reclines on the chair, and I adjust the position until she's comfortable. The mechanical hum of the chair fills the silence as I raise it slightly. Then I'm standing over her, looking at the canvas of her skin, thinking about what design would be perfect for her.
"Tell me what you want first," I say. "Before I start designing anything. Tell me what speaks to you. What makes you feel like yourself."
Sharon is quiet for a long moment, and I watch her think. Her eyes are focused on the ceiling of my studio, where I've painted a mural of various tattoo designs over the years. Her chest rises and falls with steady breaths.
"I want something that shows connection," she says finally. "Something that represents the fact that I'm bonded to you guys. But I want it to be something that's just mine too. Something that's about me, not just about the pack."
"Connected but independent," I say, understanding what she's asking for. "Strong but flexible. Beautiful but powerful."
"Yes," Sharon says, nodding slowly. Her hair shifts against the leather headrest. "Exactly that."
I pull up a stool and sit beside the chair so I'm at eye level with her. The wheels squeak slightly against the floor. "I have an idea, but I want to run it by you first before I start sketching."
"What is it?" she asks, turning her head to look at me. Her eyes are warm in the dim lighting.
"A knot," I say. "Not a traditional knot. Something that's beautiful in its intricacy but also simple in its meaning. Something that represents the pack bond."
Sharon's eyes go wide, and I watch as her scent shifts into something warmer. Something that smells like understanding mixed with anticipation.
She reaches out and touches my face, her fingers tracing my jawline. Her skin is soft against mine. "I like that. I want that. The knot for the pack, and we'll do the phoenix later when this one heals."
I stand and head toward the design station, and Sharon comes with me.
She is still shirtless, still completely at ease in her own skin.
There is no self-consciousness in her, only this quiet confidence that has become such a natural part of her.
She has stepped fully into her omega self.
She has embraced her body, her desire, her place in the world.
She exists exactly as she is, and she does it without apology.
I pull up the design software and start sketching.
My fingers fly across the tablet, creating the image in my head.
A knot that's intricate but not overwhelming.
A knot that has movement and flow. A knot that shows connection and strength at the same time.
Sharon leans over my shoulder, her warmth radiating against my back as she watches the design take shape.
"What do you think?" I ask, turning the tablet to face her.
Sharon leans in close, her bare shoulder brushing against mine. She studies the design for a long moment, and I watch as her expression shifts from analytical to emotional. Her breathing changes, becomes softer.
"It's perfect," she whispers.
My stomach chooses that exact moment to growl loudly, completely betraying me. I clear my throat and pretend it didn't happen. "We should grab food," I say. "Tacos from that place down the street, come back here, and then do the tattoo. I want you fully fed before we start."
She laughs softly, brushing her fingers over my forearm like she's trying to hide the fact she's doing it. "Or do you have to sort out other stuff?"
I shake my head. "Not today."
She tilts her head, curious. "Really? I figured having your own business. You would have to be on your toes all the time."
Sharon steps a little closer, eyes warm. "I like spending time with my alpha."
The words hit me low and hard. Warm. Possessive in the sweetest way. I lean in just enough that my breath brushes her cheek. "Good. Because I plan to keep you all to myself for the rest of the day."
Her grin is wicked and knowing. "Then feed me tacos, Pine. I work better when I'm spoiled."
"Anything for you beautiful." Then I wink at her.
Sharon nods and reaches for her sweater. I watch as she pulls it back on, covering the beautiful canvas of her skin. Temporary coverage, I remind myself. Soon she'll be wearing the knot permanently.
We walk down to Los Tacos, a small taco stand run by Maria who makes the best carnitas in Pine Hollow.
The evening is cool, and the Christmas decorations are starting to go up all over town.
Garland is draped across storefronts. Lights are being strung.
Pine Hollow is preparing for the holidays.
Our footsteps echo on the sidewalk as we walk side by side.
Sharon orders three tacos with everything on them. I order four because I'm still hungry even after we've finished. We find a small table near the window and settle in with our food. The plastic chairs scrape against the tile floor as we sit.
"What does the knot mean to you?" Sharon says between bites of her taco. Salsa drips onto her plate.
"The knot is everything," I say, and I'm being honest. "The knot is the most vulnerable moment for an alpha because it means you're locked in place. You can't run. You can't fight. You're completely at the mercy of your omega's pleasure."
Sharon takes a bite of her taco and watches me while she chews. "So, it's about trust."
"It's about knowing that your omega isn't going to hurt you while you're in your most vulnerable state."
"But I thought we did all that during the bonding ceremony?" Sharon asks softly. She wipes her mouth with a napkin.
"The bonding bites made us official," I say quietly, tracing the edge of her mark with my thumb. Her skin is warm under my touch. "That was the moment you chose us and we chose you. That's our pack, our instinct, everything that ties us together."
Her eyes lift to mine, open and trusting.