Page 103 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

And when I turned back toward the men who made it all possible, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

Home wasn’t just a place anymore. It was this. Them. All of it.

It was messy, warm, and a little chaotic—but so was baking. So was love.

And as long as we were together, I knew we’d always come out golden.

Because life with my pack? It wasn’t just good…

It was baked to perfection.

epilogue: tommas

TOMMAS

There were stillmoments when I walked through the front door and barely recognized the place. Not because I’d forgotten it, of course—but because of how much it had transformed.

The unfeeling penthouse we’d once used like a fortress was now warm, light-filled, and lived in. Kit’s touches were everywhere—velvet throw pillows in colors I didn’t know the names of, soft rugs that made your bare feet sink in, open shelves full of cookbooks, and tiny vases with fresh flowers she swapped out every few days.

She hadn’t just moved in—she’d made it hers. Made it ours.

And somehow, without even trying, she’d turned this place from a house into a home.

I leaned against the doorframe to the living room and smiled. She was curled up in one corner of the sectional, legs tucked under her, a romance novel in hand. One of those spicier ones,judging by the blush creeping up her cheeks and the way she was biting her lip as she flipped the page.

I crossed the room quietly and sat beside her, close enough to brush against her hip. She didn’t even look up—just smiled and kept reading.

Marco wasn’t nearly as subtle. He plopped down on her other side with zero shame, stretching out dramatically with his head in her lap like he owned the place.

“Whatcha reading, Angel?” he asked, not bothering to hide the grin in his voice.

“Book four of the one you guys were all teasing me about last week,” she said, lifting a brow without looking away from the page.

“Ohhh, the one with the shirtless hockey player on the cover? I still say I have better abs.”

“You’re terrible,” she muttered, cheeks pink.

“Terribly interested in that mark right there,” Marco murmured, dragging his fingertip lightly over his mark, the top edge just peeking out at the edge of her neckline.

Kit shivered, her breath hitching just enough to make me smirk.

Her eyes flicked toward me in warning, but it was too late. I leaned in from the other side, capturing her wrist and brushing my lips over the bite I’d left behind. I pushed the word “mine” through the bond and felt her pulse flutter under my touch.

She tried to keep reading. She really did.

But the more we toyed with our brands, the lower her book sank and the higher her pulse rose.

Her eyes narrowed even as her breath hitched.

“Are you two done?”

“Not even close,” I told her, then trailed wicked little kisses up her arm to the crux of her elbow.

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “I was reading.”

Marco smirked. “And now you’re not.” My brother stole her book, shoving it behind one of the couch cushions as if it offended him. “We’re much better entertainment, anyway.”

She laughed, and the sound was pure fuckin’ music. “You’re both ridiculous.”

---