Page 11 of Knotting Before Them

“If I were you, I’d run,” he whispered between my lips.

And before I could react, he was gone.

I tried my bestnot to think about Noah when I returned to my room. Turns out, I had a small view of the mountain from the bathroom window. It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t care. It was the closest I’ve ever been. Without an ounce of shame, I set up everything in the bathroom, sat on the toilet lid, opened my notebook, and started to draw.

When I was little, I wanted to be a painter like my parents. It was when I went to a showing with them around my thirteenth birthday that I saw my first real sculpture.

Of course, I saw plenty before, but I never connected with a piece like I connected with that one. My world stopped, my eyes feasted, and my mind raced with possibilities.

I never looked back.

It wasn’t until my parents died that I felt this deep need to be more. To do more. It was like a cord that snapped; they left me, and the hole of my existence became bigger and bigger until, like them, I was moving around the globe, trying to find purpose.

I saw this mountain by accident. A friend of mine visited Switzerland and came to this village for a day trip. I saw thepictures on her social media, and I couldn’t think about anything else but the mountain.

It called to me—I couldn’t explain it any other way.

I looked at pictures and watched videos, but nothing was enough. I spent days locked in my studio trying to create something, but nothing came.

Its call was so strong, I packed my bags.

It was so strong, being in that the B&B wasn’t enough. It was so strong that only when I was inside the house, at the foot of the mountain, could I breathe.

Funny; now that I was so close, the view wasn’t as spectacular. Still, I was in the mountain, and suddenly, that was all that mattered.

I was dressed in shorts and a large T-shirt when I looked at the clock and saw it had just passed three in the morning. I put my hair up in a ponytail and blew a raspberry.

It wasn’t enough.

My sketches weren’t better than before, even as I breathed in the mountain and saw its colors so closely.

Defeated, I left the room to a dark and silent house. I needed a glass of water and a rest. Maybe in the morning, things would be different.

I dragged my feet down the corridor, and my eyes found the only small source of light coming from the gap of an opened door.

The room was beside mine, and I couldn’t resist. Something was tugging me to it. I tiptoed until my hands reached the door and, with a fortifying breath, I opened it.

The gasp flew off my mouth. Just beside my room was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

Wall-to-wall windows displayed the mountain in the most perfect view. My feet led me to it, and I slid the glass opento a balcony in beautiful dark wood, illuminated by perfectly positioned fairy lights.

Hissing when my bare feet hit the icy ground, I pushed forward as I took it all in.

It was perfect, like the entrance to a magical place.

I knew they barely wanted me here, but I couldn’t understand why, knowing I wanted to see the mountain, they were keeping this to themselves.

This room was an artist’s paradise. It was everything I’d ever wanted, even when I didn’t know what I wanted. It was breathtaking.

“Noah is going to kill you if he sees you here.”

I gasped and turned, finding Wylder watching me as he leaned against the glass double doors.

“I’m sorry. I—”

I shook my head because I had no excuse. I was snooping. I shouldn’t be here without permission, and yet, I wasn’t really sorry.

“It’s so …. I…” Words failed me.

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