worried. Josie was already fast asleep.
No surprise there—she hadn't slept much either, and she'd spent much of that time terrified and desperate. That kind of shit took it out of a person—at least, that's what Knox remembered from the time before he became an alpha. He'd spent a good part of his childhood terrified of disappointing his father until the day he decided that since he'd never be able to please his old man, he'd devote himself to doing the opposite.
Knox didn't want to dwell on the past, but as he threw together a simple dinner, his mind kept drifting to the details Josie had told him about herself. The parallels and divergences between their lives filled his head as her scent filled his nose. By the time he put out the lamps and headed for bed, Knox was resigned to another sleepless night.
It was that damn scent.
Any alpha with a working sense of smell would be stirred up by the scent of a woman in his home, but it wasn't just that. No matter how hard he tried to forget the curves under her silly pajamas, Knox still remained semi-hard, but his fascination with the dormant omega went way beyond sexual.
Josie exuded vitality like smoke off a firecracker, and the notes of intelligence and pride and determination—and yes, stubbornness and defiance—in her scent created a unique blend that invigorated him.
And yet, when Knox closed his eyes and let the scent of her gently drift down on him, the knowledge that she was safe under his own roof—that he didn't have to stand guard on another alpha's land to protect her tonight—calmed and lulled him. Which was odd since bringing Josie into his home was a decision he would surely come to regret.
But not tonight.
On the other side of the wall, his little burden was comfortable in the chair he'd made with his own hands. Though he couldn't see her, his other senses reassured him she had everything she needed. There was enough wood to keep the fire going all night. There was food if she wanted it, a clean towel in the bathroom. For the moment, at least, everything felt strangely exactly as it should be.
Knox woke to the weak light of an overcast morning, refreshed and rested. Amazing. It turned out he could sleep after all.
Outside his door, he could hear Josie moving around, though he could tell she was trying to be quiet, her footfalls soft on the wood floor. She needn't have bothered—if he concentrated, Knox could make out every beat of her heart, every breath she took, the rustle of her pajamas against her skin.
And he could definitely hear her cursing like a sailor, even though she whispered the ear-curling words he was surprised she knew.
A smile came to Knox's lips before he could check it. Whatever Josie was doing out there, it seemed to be getting the best of her—but her scent betrayed only frustration, not distress. As long as she wasn't trying to escape into another brutal winter day, Knox was more amused than worried.
So he decided to indulge her, pulled up the fur covering his bed, and rolled over to doze a little longer.
A few minutes later, though, a horrible smell drifted in through the crack beneath his bedroom door. Knox threw back the covers to investigate, but when he opened his bedroom door, he found one of his earthenware mugs waiting for him in the hallway filled to the brim with a dark, steaming brew that was the source of the noxious odor.
"Oh, hey," Josie's voice called from the front room. He picked up the mug and found her curled up in the same chair she'd slept in with her own steaming mug in hand. "I woke up early and figured out how to make the world's worst cup of coffee."
"Yeah, you did," Knox said, staring down into the thick sludge flecked with black. "And you poured me some. How…thoughtful."
Josie reddened slightly. "I'm not sure I used the grinder right. It seemed to make the grounds awfully fine. Kinda like mud."
Knox glanced into the kitchen, where the evidence of her efforts was in full view.
"That's because you used the flour mill," he said mildly. "How about if I brew us fresh pot?"
"You…make your own flour?" Josie sat up with interest, her embarrassment giving way to curiosity.
Knox peered into the hulking cast-iron mill bolted to the end of the counter and confirmed that Josie had dumped the coffee beans in. An experimental