Page 67 of Knot the Last Chapter

My skin itches, my limbs are restless, and my head is foggy with all the questions I don’t have answers for. Who am I if I’m not the girl who got out? Who am I if I let three alphas—all strong, protective, wildly different—tangle their lives up in mine? And who am I becoming if I want that?

I stand up.

“Come on, Misty,” I say. “Time for a bath.”

The en-suite bathroom is decadent, just like the rest of the mansion. The deep soaking tub is old porcelain with elegant silver clawed feet. I run the water until it steams, pouring in the soft rose-scented salts I found in the cabinet.

Steam curls around the room like a caress. Misty leaps onto the windowsill and watches, tail twitching like she’s the queen of the castle.

I sink into the water slowly, letting the heat ease into my muscles. A breath leaves me in a rush as tension slips from my shoulders. My mind quiets. Just a little.

The alphas are still laughing below. They’re safe. Whole. They’re here.

And I’m here, too.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next.

But maybe I don’t need to solve the mystery all at once.

Maybe I just need to keep turning the pages.

Chapter thirty-nine

Tyler

The movie ends, but I don’t remember a damn second of it.

Rhys had picked something slow and scenic—some French film with long, lingering shots and a love story buried in quiet yearning. It should’ve suited the mood. But I didn’t absorb a single frame.

All I could focus on was her.

Lila.

Every creak of the floor upstairs was her. Every muffled footstep, every shift of the walls, every brush of air held her scent like a whispered secret. Even when she wasn't in the room, she was everywhere. Saturating the air like something primal and inevitable.

Now the credits roll, casting a soft bluish glow across the darkened living room. Rhys and Corwyn sit draped over the couches, relaxed in posture, but I know they’re thinking the same thing I am.

“She’s something,” Rhys finally says, voice rough with unspoken weight.

Corwyn chuckles softly, but there’s a reverent edge to it. “Not just her scent. She’s... her.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, rubbing a hand along the back of my neck. My skin is tight with tension, my jaw aching from clenching. “It’s not just want. It’s more than that.”

“She’s not ready.” Rhys shifts upright, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not for a decision like that. Not while she’s here, with us. Surrounded.”

Corwyn nods slowly. “It has to be her choice. All of it. Or it means nothing.”

We lapse into silence. But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence of understanding, of restraint. Of waiting for something worth the ache.

Eventually, they head off to their rooms, but I don’t follow. My body’s humming, restless. My thoughts too loud. There’s no quieting them—not like this.

I head down the hall, taking the stairs toward the spa room we renovated a few months ago. It’s dimly lit, all soft shadows and flickering wall sconces, and the air is thick with lavender steam. The tub sits sunken in the middle of the room, surrounded by pale stone and small candles set along the edges. The scent is calming, herbal, and faintly sweet.

I strip out of my clothes, every motion deliberate, my muscles groaning from the strain of restraint. My skin prickles with anticipation the moment I slide into the tub, the hot water wrapping around me like deep comfort.

I sigh, letting the heat soak in. It seeps into my bones, loosens the tightness in my spine, but it does nothing for the knot low in my belly.

Lila.

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