Page 68 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Forty-Six

Chloe

M y fingers smooth the soft green fabric of my dress, tracing the delicate seams Dominic insisted on having tailored for today. The silk whispers across my skin as I twist to check my reflection once more in the full-length mirror.

Through the French doors of the hotel suite, laughter floats up from the courtyard below, where paper lanterns sway in the afternoon breeze and lavender lines the stone walkway.

My pack is waiting.

“You can do this,” I whisper to my reflection, bare toes curling on the cool, polished wood floor. “ They chose you. You chose them. You’re already bonded. This is just a formality.”

The Marks on my neck tingle as if responding to my words, and I trace them with my finger, each one distinct, each one representing a connection that redefined everything my mother taught me about how love is conditional.

I step closer to the balcony doors, drawn by the gathering crowd.

Emily stands near the entrance in a silver suit that catches the light, directing hotel staff with the same commanding presence she uses at construction sites. Her gray hair gleams in the sunlight, pinned back on the sides, the tips brushing her shoulders.

Holden’s family clusters near the appetizer table, his mother arranging a platter of cookies she insisted on baking herself. Next to her, his father adjusts the flowers with careful hands, and his sisters laugh with their heads close together.

When I met them yesterday, his mother hugged me without hesitation, welcoming me to the family, and his sisters pulled me into their circle as if I’d always belonged there. Wildly different from my previous familial experiences.

Across the courtyard, Sadie stands beside Mrs. Reynolds, her hands steady as she accepts a glass of sparkling apple juice.

She celebrated three months sober last week with a quiet barbecue on the island.

Her hair shines with health, the bleach covered by a natural brown that matches her brother’s and her daughter’s thick waves.

When she smiles at something Mrs. Reynolds says, I can see Blake in the curve of her mouth. Beside them, Quinn twirls in her flower girl dress, the fabric billowing around her in a pink cloud.

Nathaniel’s father moves between the tables, checking the place settings with a critical eye.

Even now, he can’t resist trying to control every detail.

But Nathaniel stands nearby, intercepting his father’s attempts to rearrange the centerpieces with a firm hand on his shoulder and quiet words that convince the older man to back down.

The sight of our makeshift family sends warmth blooming through my chest. After everything we’ve been through, we’re still here.

Still together.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I turn to find Grady in the doorway, dressed in his formal shirt and slacks, a bouquet of white roses and lavender in his hands. His smile widens as he takes in my dress, the loose waves of my hair, and the bare feet I haven’t yet forced into the heels waiting by the bed.

“They’re worth at least a dollar,” I snark, accepting the bouquet and bringing them to my nose. “Thank you for doing this.”

Grady shrugs, but the casual gesture can’t hide the emotion brightening his eyes. “Who else would give you away? Your fictional characters?”

I laugh, grateful for his ability to cut through the sentimentality with humor. “Who needs a dragon prince when I have my own fairy godfather right here?”

“And I look fantastic.” He straightens his tie with exaggerated pride.

My happiness falters as I turn back to the window. “The Homestead would have been perfect for this.”

Grady moves to stand beside me, his shoulder brushing mine as we both gaze out at the courtyard. “It will be perfect when it’s rebuilt. The insurance came through, and the kitchen is already taking shape.”

“I know.” I sigh, resting my forehead on the cool glass. “I shouldn’t complain. We’re lucky.”

The fire destroyed the north wing and the kitchen, but the central structure survived, thanks to the sprinklers. We lost furniture, clothes, and some of Quinn’s toys, but not each other. Not our pack. Not our home.

“Simon can’t hurt you anymore,” Grady reminds me gently.

The name still sends a chill down my spine, despite the months since his arrest. Simon sits in a high-security prison, his bail denied after multiple psychiatrists deemed him a threat.

Between the stalking, arson, kidnapping, murder, and attempted murder charges, he received a lifetime sentence without parole.

“And the Sinclairs?” Grady asks, always attuned to where my thoughts drift. “Any attempts to interfere with today?”

“Radio silence.” I straighten and square my shoulders. “Since I relinquished any claim on the Sinclair fortune, Gregory has no reason to contact me. The NDA ensures he’ll never acknowledge me in public.”

What I don’t say is how much lighter I feel without the weight of that legacy.

Using part of my inheritance to pay off the loan freed the Misty Pines pack from any obligation to the Burton pack. No more deadlines hanging over our heads, no more sabotage, no more threats of forfeiture. We own it outright, all five of us.

As for Blake’s father, he’s lying low. We agreed not to go after him for fraud charges that would have put him away for years but, in exchange for his freedom, he’s repaying every penny he took from Sadie’s severance from the Patel pack.

Blake’s father will never be the man his children deserved, but at least he’s being forced to make amends for some of the damage he caused.

And despite all his efforts to stop it, Phase One completed last month. Pride swells in my chest. The cabins are booked solid through the start of winter, and the Homestead renovations will finish by autumn.

Our new boat technician moves up next month, and Quinn’s homeschool teacher arrives next week. Quinn will have to do some catch-up, but since she won’t have to vie for attention with other students, we think she’ll be brought up to speed fast.

As for me…

“Nightshade Publishing is still trying to buy the rights to your new trilogy. They’re offering to increase the advance.” Grady grins, the excitement he’s been containing breaking through. “Apparently, monster romances are trending. Who knew?”

I stick my tongue out at him. “I told you. But we’re not selling this time. Indie is where it’s at. ”

Before he can try to sell me again on selling to a big publisher, a knock at the door interrupts us.

Holden pokes his head in, his curls tamed for once and his suit fitted across his shoulders.

His cheeks flush when he sees me, and the bond between us pulses with his approval. “You look beautiful, but Dominic sent me to check if you’re ready. Blake is about to combust from nerves, and Nathaniel keeps shooing his father away from rearranging the chairs.”

I laugh, imagining my Alphas pacing the courtyard, waiting for their Omega. “Tell them five more minutes.”

“Five Alpha minutes or five Omega minutes?” Holden teases. “Because you said five minutes twenty minutes ago.”

“Five human minutes.” I shoo him away. “Now go. This is supposed to be a surprise reveal.”

When the door closes behind him, I turn back to Grady. “I never thought I’d have this.”

He takes my hands in his. “A bonding ceremony?”

“A family.” The word catches in my throat. “A pack who wants me.”

Grady’s expression softens. “You deserve every bit of it. ”

Outside, the music changes to signal that the ceremony will soon begin.

Grady chuckles. “He’s taking your five human minutes seriously this time.”

“Ha, ha. You’re so funny.” I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of roses and lavender.

“Ready?” Grady offers his arm.

I clutch my bouquet in one hand and slip my feet into the heels waiting by the bed. “Ready.”

We step out into the hallway, and the carpet stretches in front of us, leading to the stairs. The ceremony waits below, my future condensed into thirty minutes of vows and promises that will formalize what our bond Marks already declare to the world.

We belong to each other.

“Chloe.”

The voice cuts through the air, so out of place here that I almost mistake it for imagination. I freeze, fingers tightening around my flower stems until a thorn pricks my skin.

“Did you hear—” I begin, but Grady’s sudden tension answers before I finish.

“Chloe!” the hiss comes again, sharper now, and ice slides through my veins.

A figure emerges from the alcove near the service elevator.

The hotel staff uniform hangs too loose on Vivian Sinclair’s frame, the name tag missing, the sleeves rolled up to hide the length.

Her pink hair, the same shade as mine, hangs lank around a face that once resembled mine before alcohol and bitterness carved new lines into it.

Being dropped by both the Sinclair and Santaros packs has not gone well for her health.

“Mother.” The word tastes sour on my tongue.

Vivian steps forward, her movements unsteady. Her eyes gleam with a feverish light, pupils contracted to pinpoints despite the dim hallway. Not drunk, then. She’s found the heavier drugs again.

“You think this will make you legitimate?” She spits the words, each one loaded with contempt. “This pack of mongrels?”

Grady shifts beside me, arm stretching across my path, but I place my hand on his elbow. “It’s okay. I can handle this.”

“You can’t handle anything.” Vivian’s lip curls as her eyes drop to the bouquet in my hands. “Playing dress-up, pretending you belong with people who don’t even matter. It’s pathetic.”

My heart pounds, but I steady my nerves. “You shouldn’t be here, Mother. There’s a restraining order. ”

She barks out a laugh, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. “Restraining orders are for people who care about rules. You think a piece of paper will keep me from seeing what a fool my daughter is making of herself?”

“The only fool here is you.” I step forward, unflinching. “You had a chance to be part of my life. You chose your revenge, alcohol, and gambling instead.”