Page 90 of Knot the Last Chapter

His mouth trails down, his tongue teasing the swell of my breast beneath the oversized T-shirt I borrowed from one of them—maybe even his.

“Then do it,” I whisper, breath hitching.

He growls—a real sound, primal and deep in his chest—and then he’s sliding my shorts and underwear down in one practiced motion. I gasp as the cool air kisses my soaked folds, and he lifts one of my legs around his hip, bracing me perfectly against the old wall. His hands are sure, strong, reverent as he lines himself up and pushes in slowly.

I moan, head falling back, arms clinging to his shoulders as the stretch of him steals my breath.

He doesn't rush.

Corwyn is deliberate.

He kisses me through every inch of penetration, whispering how perfect I feel, how long he’s imagined this. How he's dreamed of having me like this—hot, needy, filled to the brim.

He sets a rhythm that drives me higher and higher, each thrust rocking the wall behind me, books rattling on the shelves nearby. I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in like I’ll die without it.

“Stars, you’re tight,” he groans, his hips grinding with a sinful precision. “So perfect, little omega.”

“Harder,” I whisper, desperate. “Please, knot me. I need it.”

He growls again, pure alpha now, and his pace turns savage. The pressure builds fast—white-hot, a tight coil deep in my belly.

And then—

“Oh,” I gasp, eyes fluttering open.

Above Corwyn’s shoulder, hidden between two beams, is a tiny carving I hadn’t noticed before. A shape—a crown?—just the width of a fingertip. Small etchings beneath it…coordinates?

“Corwyn,” I breathe, just as the orgasm rips through me.

My body clamps around him as I cry out, every nerve alight. He’s right there with me, teeth grazing my neck, hands tightening around my thighs as he knots deep inside.

When the spasms fade, when the aftershocks melt into a delicious haze, I nod toward the carving.

“I think… I think that’s another clue.”

He follows my gaze, dazed, and laughs—a full, warm laugh that vibrates in his chest.

“Only you,” he says, kissing my temple, “would find a clue mid-knot.”

We stay like that, pressed together against the ancient wall, breath mingling, firelight flickering across the spines of books neither of us could name in that moment.

Eventually, he lifts me in his arms—still knotted—and walks us to the plush rug before the fireplace. He pulls a soft throw blanket over our bare bodies and holds me close, my cheek against his chest, his heart thudding steadily beneath my ear.

His fingers trail lazy circles on my back.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers.

“I think we all are,” I say sleepily. “Together.”

He hums, kissing my hair.

And we stay that way, tangled and content, while the fire crackles low and the shadows dance around us like ancient secrets waiting to be revealed.

Chapter fifty-three

Lila

The table is filled with warmth.