Page 71 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

She pauses beside Quinn, raising her eyebrows at the clipboard. “Checking people in, Miss Office Manager?”

Quinn nods. “Uncle Dom says proper paperwork is essential for operational integrity.”

“Does he now?” Sadie’s lips twitch with suppressed laughter. “Well, don’t forget to check me in. I’ll be helping with the cabins today.”

Quinn straightens her spine, all business. “Name, please?”

“Sadie Patel,” her mother replies, adjusting the towels in her arms.

Quinn once again checks her list and nods. “You’re approved for cabin cleaning duty. You may proceed.”

Sadie stares at Quinn with a slightly bemused expression, as if she still can’t quite believe this is her life now.

Sober for eight months, she visits more often, though she’s content to leave things as they are.

She had moved out of the penthouse and now lives in a nice two-bedroom apartment with Mrs. Reynolds, who treats Sadie more like a daughter than her charge.

The back door swings open, and Blake enters, his broad frame filling the doorway.

His shirt hangs half-buttoned over his chest, revealing tattoos and a sheen of sweat.

His cheeks are sun-pinked from working outside, and his hair has escaped its bun, falling in tendrils around his face.

He carries a stack of folding chairs under one arm, his muscles flexing with the effort.

Later in the afternoon, there will be marshmallow roasting and wine tasting for those who want to join.

It had been Dominic’s idea as a way to introduce local liquors and provide some sort of food while the kitchen was still being rebuilt.

It became such a visitor favorite that we decided to keep it going.

Blake spots me, and his expression softens. Even after all this time, the intensity of his attention sends heat curling through me. Our bond pulses with quiet satisfaction as he sets down the chairs and crosses to where I stand.

“You’ve got dirt on you.” His thumb brushes my cheek, and his touch lingers.

I lean into his hand for a moment before stepping back. “The lilac tree is in.”

Understanding darkens his eyes. “Good. Now your scent will fill the whole garden.”

Across the room, Dominic emerges from the small office off the back hallway, tablet in hand. His French braid is immaculate as always, not a hair out of place despite the morning’s work. He taps the screen, checking off another item on his to-do list, before his head lifts.

He catches me watching him and winks. Through our bond, his satisfaction and pride for what we’ve built together hums between us.

He crosses the room to join us. “The thermostat in Cabin Four is working now. The adjustment fixed the issue.”

“Good,” Blake says. “That’s the last of the technical glitches, I hope.”

“For now,” Dominic says, his tone dry but amused. “There will always be something.”

I look around at my pack, each person settled into their role, moving with purpose and confidence.

Nathaniel guiding guests through activity options.

Holden creating delicacies in his kitchen.

Grady welcoming newcomers with genuine warmth.

Quinn practicing responsibility with her clipboard.

Sadie offering help when she’s mentally capable.

Blake building and fixing with his hands.

Dominic ensuring everything runs smoothly.

And me, at the center of it all, connecting each to the other through our bonds, through the love that rebuilt not just our home but our lives.

“We did it,” I murmur, not realizing I’ve spoken aloud until Blake’s arm slides around my waist .

“Yeah.” His contented purr vibrates against my side. “We did.”

Dominic’s hand slips over my stomach. “And this is only the beginning.”

I flush as I imagine our pup running through the Homestead, welcoming guests and trailing after their cousin Quinn.

The greatest adventure is still ahead of us, and I can’t wait to share it with my Alphas.

The late afternoon sun slants through the windows of my writing room, painting golden stripes across the hardwood floor.

I slip inside and close the door behind me with a soft click, breathing in the familiar scent of paper and the faint trace of cedar from the new shelves that line one wall, filled with the knick-knacks from my old apartment, the glass dragon in the place of honor at the center.

After hours of mingling with guests, making small talk, and helping serve the welcome lunch, the quiet is a balm for my senses. This space, tucked above the garage, is my sanctuary, preserved even when we redesigned the Homestead after the fire .

Outside, I can see guests gathered under the pergola, wine glasses glinting in the dying light. Blake moves among them, pouring from bottles with labels bearing our resort’s name. A local vineyard had created the blend to be exclusive for our Resort.

Dominic stands at the edge of the group, one hand in his pocket, the other gesturing as he tells them about the property’s history. Even from here, I can see the rapt attention on the guests’ faces.

I kick off my shoes and pad across to the desk nestled beneath the dormer window. My fluffy recliner cradles my body, and I pull my laptop onto my lap before elevating my swollen feet.

A page is already open on the screen.

The words flow, one sentence leading to the next.

This new series, free from publisher constraints, feels liberating.

These characters move through a world built from pieces of my own: a small-town bakery like Holden’s kitchen, a mysterious forest like the one surrounding our island, and tentacled monsters that lurk at the edge of the beaches.

The door creaks open behind me, and I glance over my shoulder.

Grady enters, leaning slightly on his cane as he balances a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies carefully in his free hand.

His blond hair is ruffled, as if he’s been running his fingers through it, and his smile still carries that same mischievous edge it did when we first met.

“Smells like smut in here,” he teases, nudging the door closed with his hip and crossing to set the tray on my desk. “Need help naming a chapter?”

I roll my eyes as I accept the tea. “Nope. I already know what it’s called.”

“Tentacles and Tarts,” he reads from my screen, settling onto the small couch across the room. “Very subtle. Holden will never guess.”

“It’s not just about him,” I protest, though we both know it’s partly a lie. “Besides, it’s not an elf this time.”

Grady laughs, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Is it going to sell as well as the Knotty Elf?”

I take a sip of herbal tea, letting the mint flavor roll across my tongue. “Maybe better.”

“Bold move.” He raises his mug in a toast. “Though after taking down the Sinclairs and building this place, I guess starting your own publishing imprint is small potatoes.”

I shrug. “That’s just a legal thing Dominic demanded I do to protect my interests.”

Grady purses his lips. “Sure you’re not going to miss the big bonuses and editors you don’t have to pay out of your own pocket? Not to mention the marketing?”

“I’m rich,” I remind him. “And I have you to figure all that out for me.”

“I see how it is,” he grumbles. “Planning to work me to the bone.”

“How’s the tour schedule going?” I ask, changing the subject. “Any cancellations?”

“Fully booked through September,” he reports with pride. “And those travel writers who visited last month? Their article comes out next week. Expect a surge in bookings after it hits.”

I sigh. “I really don’t think I need the tours.”

“And that’s why I’m still your agent and not you.” He slumps lower on the sofa. “Are you nervous to debut again, this time as an Omega author?”

“No.” I nibble on my bottom lip. “Well, maybe a little.”

“It will be inspirational for other Omegas,” he assures me.

I had struggled with the idea when Grady first suggested it, but since my monster smut was nothing like my romantasy, I caved and started a new pen name. And since I was doing that, I wanted to launch the right way this time, without any fear .

The success of my first book had only confirmed what Grady had already known. No one cared about my secondary designation. They just wanted good books.

Grady seems to read my thoughts. “You’re thriving, you know. All of you.”

A warm glow spreads through my chest at his words. “We are.”

He settles deeper into the couch, coffee mug cradled in his hands. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, stealing your plot points for nefarious purposes.”

“As if you could keep up with my imagination,” I retort, turning back to the screen.

“True,” he concedes with a chuckle. “I’ll leave the monster smut to the professional.”

The banter washes over me, a reminder of the friendship that sustained me when I had nothing else. And now I have everything. A home, a pack, a purpose, and the freedom to create without fear.

I start to type again, words flowing faster now. Grady’s presence behind me is comforting, a link to my past that doesn’t pull me back but pushes me forward.

Through the open window, Quinn’s laughter drifts up from the garden below, and Blake’s deep voice answers her. I reach out to take a lemon cookie, and my gaze drifts back to where Nathaniel and Dominic entertain the guests.

My fingers pause over the keys for a moment as I take in the life we’ve built, this family we’ve formed, and this future we’re writing together, one word at a time.

The End.

Return to the Misty Pines Universe in an all new series where trust is broken, new bonds are formed, and Emily gets a second chance at a pack in:

Knot Her Alpha