Page 194 of Knot Their Fated M.U.S.E

I cry out, the stretch intense, the pressure just at the edge of pain—but it’s perfect. He hisses, gripping tighter, muscles locking as the thick knot finally slips inside with a wet, obscene pop.

We both groan.

“Fuck, you’retight,” he growls. “Taking me so well. You weremeantfor this.”

The moment his knot locks in place, I come again—helpless, overwhelmed, my whole body clenching down around him in fluttering waves. I collapse forward onto my elbows, breathless, wrecked.

He holds me from behind, knot pulsing as he fills me again and again with every twitch.

And we stay like that.

Tangled.

Breathing.

Claimed.

The mirrors show it all—every shiver, every moan, every trace of slick that glistens across my thighs.

A slow, lazy chuckle rumbles from his chest, and I canfeelhim smirk against my skin.

“You know they saw all that,” he murmurs, voice soaked in amusement and dark pride. “Every angle. Every moan. Every damn second.”

I manage a weak sound that might be defiance or might be surrender.

Does it matter?

I can’t move. I don’twantto move.

He gathers me closer, wrapping around me, the knot still locked inside me as he pulls me into his lap, my back flush to his chest.

“You did so good,” he murmurs, brushing a damp curl from my cheek. “Let go, Omega. No one will interrupt us untilIsay so. You can rest. I’ve got you.”

I try to argue—try to remind him we still need to enter the final level.

But the words slur.

My lids flutter.

And all that heat, pain, and love collapse into silence.

He cradles me tighter.

“I’ll wake you when it’s time,” he whispers, voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “We’ll walk in as one.”

The final level we failed to reach.

The reckoning complete.

The foundation established.

The pack ready for the finale…

I sleep in the arms of the Blood Prophet.

Wrecked. Knotted. Loved.

THIRTY-SEVEN

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