Page 24 of Knot the Last Chapter

Chapter fourteen

Lila

It’s only once the front door closes behind me that I realize how cold I actually am.

Inside, the storm becomes distant—a muffled drumbeat against thick walls and high glass. The heat of the hearth hits me like a wall, and I stagger toward it instinctively, wet clothes clinging to my skin. My soaked shoes leave faint prints on the dark wood floor, and the faint scent of cedar and stone fills my lungs.

And him.

Rhys.

His scent lingers behind him as he disappears down the hall, something grounding and clean—iron-rich earth and fresh-cut wood. If he wasn’t being so quiet, so respectful, it would be overwhelming. Even as it is, it presses at the edges of me, teasing something loose inside.

My omega biology stirs like it’s just now realizing we’re in a closed space with a very large alpha.

I sit on the stone hearth, wrapping my arms around myself to stop the shaking. I’m not sure if I’m shivering from the storm or the strange, charged weight of his presence.

He’s a stranger.

But not threatening.

And something in me—something deeper than logic—trusts him.

The room is massive. Vaulted ceilings, timber beams, long sofas arranged like a conversation circle around the fire. Floor-to-ceiling windows now blurred with rain, and bookshelves tucked into corners like the walls were built around them. The lighting is warm but soft, and everything smells faintly of soap, smoke, and something old—leather maybe, or polished stone.

I expected a lake house.

What I’ve walked into is a mansion.

And not just any mansion. A gorgeous, restored estate that feels both ancient and newly reborn. It’s the kind of house where every inch has been touched by care—warm and worn and stately, like it has a soul. It’s the kind of place you’d expect to find in a Gothic novel, minus the cobwebs. My creative brain starts competing with my omega biology to craft mysteries that could have happened here.

I let out a slow breath, sinking back on my heels as I hold my palms toward the fire. “This is incredible,” I murmur.

Rhys returns with a soft fleece throw and a towel, both of which he hands me without a word. I take them, murmuring my thanks as I pat my face and hair.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” he says. “There’s a tea blend my brother makes—it’s got ginger and mint. Should help.”

I blink at him. “Your brother makes tea?”

His mouth twitches. “Corwyn. He’s the golden one.”

A memory teases my brain to live, of golden hair and a perfect smile. “Corwyn. From the bookstore in town?”

Rhys’ lips quirk. “I see you’ve already met him, then.”

“It’s an apt description,” I admit.

“Well, you’ll get the chance to see him. I just don’t want you caught off guard. Also my other brother, Tyler, is here.

I blink, caught off guard. “There are three of you?”

“Three brothers,” he says, vanishing into the next room with a low chuckle. “We make up for it by being slightly more civilized than we look.”

Despite myself, I laugh. My pulse eases. A little.

The sound of water running, cupboards opening and closing, the clink of ceramic. Somehow, it’s all more intimate than it should be. I don’t even know this man.

And yet I do.