Page 37 of Knot My Type

“Cut me some slack—I'm still recovering!”

“I figured I’d make a chef out of you yet,” I tease as she playfully glares. “But first, let’s see if you can handle this stew.”

As I watch her take another bite, a slow smile creeping onto her face, I know that we are forging something beautiful here amidst the remnants of our pasts. We are learning to trust, to share our burdens, to let go of the weight we’ve carried for so long.

“I wonder how the others are doing,” she says, momentarily drifting back into contemplation.

“They’re probably bickering about something stupid; it’s what they do best. That’s how you know we’re a family—everyone has their roles to play.”

We fill the silence with more lighthearted banter, exchanging stories about Fen’s killer tracking skills and Rhys’s almost-comical flirting techniques. With each shared laugh, she seems to let another layer fall, revealing more of the spirited woman beneath the guarded exterior.

As we finish the meal, I sense a shift in her posture; she leans back slightly, her body more relaxed than before. Our conversation flows like the gentle stream outside, allowing us each to exhale the past and welcome something new.

Afterwards, I lean back in my chair and watch her, a surge of warmth swelling inside me. “You know, I never would have suspected you to be the secret chef of lost talent.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “You know you’ll have to keep up the stew-making, right? I expect quality meals from here on out.”

“Challenge accepted,” I reply, returning her smile. We share a moment of understanding that transcends the tension from before, that understanding reaching out and bridging the gap between where we’ve been and where we might go.

The change in her feels palpable. The storms have passed, and with them comes clarity—a sense of purpose and belonging that I hadn’t realized I craved.

Later, as the fire wanes to glowing coals and Eliana grows sleepy, I can’t help but smile to myself, feeling a warmth that stretches beyond the comfort of the cabin. There’s something about her resilience, about the way she fights to reclaim her life that stirs something deep within me. It ignites remnants of hope I had nearly forgotten existed.

As the night settles into a tranquil silence, I gather the empty bowls and clean up the remnants of what felt like a feast and a long-awaited reconnection. The laughter and stories linger in the air, and I can’t shake the feeling that tonight marked a new chapter—not just for Eliana, but for all of us.

I turn back to her, noticing the way she gazes out the window, her expression softening as she watches snowflakes drift down from the now-darkened sky. “What are you thinking about?” I ask, curiosity lacing my tone.

She turns to me, her brow furrowing slightly, as if contemplating how much to share. “Just… everything. I never expected to find a place like this, or people like you.”

“There’s beauty in the unexpected,” I reply, echoing my earlier sentiment, feeling the truth in my own words. “You never know what you can find if you just take a step forward.”

Eliana bites her lip, a nervous habit, and I can see the weight of her past still holding her back. “I’ve always been the type to guard myself, to keep distance. Letting people in… it’s been difficult.”

“Trust isn’t built in a day,” I offer, careful with my words. “It takes time. We all have our scars and shadows, and we can help each other heal. You’re part of this pack now, for better or worse. We protect what’s ours.”

Her eyes widen slightly, a glimmer of surprise dancing within them. “Part of the pack,” she whispers as if she’s tasting the words for the first time, feeling their weight and warmth settle like a blanket around her shoulders.

I can see the shift in her body language—the way her shoulders ease, the way her posture begins to soften. I know she’s scared, but there’s also a resilience in her that reflects the strength of the mountains surrounding us.

ELIANA

Kael's fingers tighten around mine, and I feel the tremor that runs through him—not uncertainty, but restraint finally beginning to crack. His golden eyes search mine, looking for hesitation, for doubt. He finds neither.

"Eliana," he says, my name a prayer on his lips.

I sit up slowly, the blanket pooling around my waist. My body still hums with the aftershocks of heat, but it's different now. Purposeful. This isn't the desperate, clawing need from before—it's deeper. More deliberate. I know what I want.

All of them.

"I need to build something," I whisper, the words coming from some ancient part of me that's been sleeping. "A nest. Here. With you."

The response is immediate. Fen's hand stills on my back, his breathing catching. Behind me, Rhys shifts, sitting up straighter. And Kael—Kael's pupils dilate, his nostrils flaring as he scents the change in me.

"A nest," he repeats, voice rough with reverence.

I nod, suddenly certain. "I want to bind us together. All of us. Not just—" I gesture vaguely at my body, still flushed and sensitive. "Not just the heat. Everything."

Rhys moves first. He rises from behind me with fluid grace, crossing to the stack of blankets and furs piled near the wall. Without a word, he begins gathering them—soft wool, worn cotton, thick pelts that smell of mountain air and wild things.

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