Page 74 of Knot the Last Chapter

Corwyn frowns. “I thought she was with you.”

“I thought she’d stayed in bed,” I say. “But the covers were untouched.”

“She wouldn’t go out again in this weather,” Rhys says, glancing at the dark clouds curling along the treetops outside. “Not after what happened.”

But none of us are sure.

We split up without another word. A practiced formation. Rhys heads toward the north wing, Corwyn to the gardens. I follow the hall down to the lower level.

The moment I step onto the stairs, I smell her.

It hits me like a freight train.

Sweet and sharp. Earth and sugar andheat. My body reacts before my mind catches up. It’s her—rich and wild and ripe.

She’s in heat.

“Shit,” I whisper, and I bolt.

Down the hall. Around the corner. Into the storage room near the old laundry.

The door is ajar. And there she is.

Curled in a makeshift nest made from our old sweaters and jackets. She must have rummaged through the winter boxes. She’s huddled in the middle of it, clutching soft, worn shirts and flannels and sweatshirts to her chest—my old hoodie, Rhys’ wool pullover, Corwyn’s flannel button-down. Her arms are tangled around them like lifelines.

My throat tightens. Her scent is everywhere, overwhelming, dizzying, clinging to every surface like a storm.

She looks up at me, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted. Her breath comes in shallow pants.

“Lila,” I say, crouching near the edge of the nest, careful not to touch. “I’m here.”

Her fingers tighten around one of the shirts. “I didn’t mean to—” she starts, voice wrecked.

“I know,” I say softly. “You didn’t choose this.”

She shudders, pressing her face against my hoodie like it’s the only thing anchoring her. “I just… I couldn’t stop it. The suppressants weren’t enough.”

“I’ve got you.” I press my hand gently to the ground between us, not quite reaching for her. “We’ve got you. We’ll make this easier. We’ll take care of you.”

Footsteps echo from the hall. Rhys and Corwyn.

I stand, moving to the doorway and holding up a hand. “She’s here. She’s safe. But… it’s happening.”

Corwyn peers in, then winces, clearly catching the scent.

Rhys stiffens but nods. “What do you need?”

“I’m not moving her yet,” I say. “She made this nest for a reason. She chose our clothes. She needs us close. Familiar.”

Lila’s voice cracks behind me. “Rhys?”

He steps forward, breath catching. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

Her gaze locks on him, desperate and shimmering. “Stay?”

Rhys’ jaw clenches. I see the conflict in his eyes.

Corwyn claps him on the back. “We’ll go. You stay. We’ll get her real nest ready upstairs. Fresh linens. Clean, warm space. Lots of food. Comforts.”