Page 60 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

Perfect.

I sank deeper into my pillow pile, arms crossed over my chest like a stubborn child, and let the chaotic drama wash over me.

Except... somehow, somewhere between one scene and the next, I dozed off.

And that’s when the dream started.

I whirled, crimson skirts cracking like a whip around my legs, a silver-hilted dagger in one hand and a chalice of wine the color of fresh blood in the other. Marble pillars loomed behind me, lit by torches that painted the carved wolves on the walls in flickering gold. Below, a thousand pack members watched, fangs bared, their howls rating the mountain temple.

Sebastian strode up the steps—bare-chested, crown askew, fury spilling off him like storm tide. His eyes burned like blue wildfire as he seized my wrist, grip bruising.

“You lied to me, Ada. You carried my crest, slept in my bed, swore to bear my heir—”

“The pup I gave birth to,” I spat, wrenching my arm halfway free, “isnotyours.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd. His face went white, then scarlet.

“Whose?” he thundered, voice echoing off ancient stone. “Tell me his name. I’ll hunt the bastard and slit his throat at dawn!”

I laughed—a sharp, wicked sound that tasted of triumph and wine. “You’ll search until the moon bleeds, Alpha. You’ll never know.”

He tore the chalice from my grasp and flung it; red winesprayed the white steps like spilled lifeblood. “You weremine.”

“I wasneveryours,” I hissed, raising the dagger—more threat than defense.

In one swift motion he knocked the blade aside and hauled me against him, mouth crashing over mine in a kiss violent enough to split heaven. The sky above the open arch shattered into shooting stars; the ground shook beneath our feet; the ancestral wolves carved into the pillars roared to life. My gown burst into a storm of midnight petals, swirling around us in a cyclone of violet and crimson.

“Yield,” he growled against my lips, fangs grazing skin. “Or I’ll bind you before the council and claim what you stole.”

“I steal only what I deserve,” I whispered back, heart hammering.

He pressed me to the altar steps, breath ragged, ready to seal the bond in front of every witness—

And just then a chipper jingle shrieked through the cavern:

“¡Para las manchas más difíciles… usa BRILLO-MAX!”

I jolted awake on my couch, the soap-opera channel now blaring a detergent commercial, bubbles bouncing across the screen while my pulse tried to escape my throat. My hair was wet with sweat, pillows scattered like fallen petals, and Sebastian’s phantom kiss still burned on my lips.

“Get it together,” I muttered, swiping my damp hair off my forehead. I grabbed the remote and clicked the TV off. The screen went black.

But Sebastian’s face—the way he’d looked at me in the dream—burned behind my eyelids like a brand.

Yup.

I was officially losing my godsdamned mind.

CHAPTER 14

Ada

The week passed in a blur of burnt sauces, misplaced invoices, and a mounting headache that refused to leave.

Two staff members had called in sick—Liam included—and one was on annual leave, leaving us short-handed and dangerously close to disaster. Chaos didn’t even begin to describe it. It was like someone had flipped a switch in hell’s kitchen and left the flames running.

One of the newbies spilled an entire tray of chicken skewers down the walk-in fridge stairs—yes, stairs, don’t ask—just minutes before a delivery. Someone else forgot to label the vegetarian canapés, which almost started a war with a corporate client who apparently treated their meat-free lifestyle like a religion. The induction stove in prep station C decided to just… not turn on. And don't even get me started on the flour delivery that was a fulldaylate, forcing us to use the emergency reserve like we were prepping for a famine.

Every time I walked into the kitchen, I was met with the scent of scorched oil, panicked voices, and someone shouting my name.

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