Page 109 of Hot Knot Summer
“We’ll always protect you,” Levi adds. “That’s what packmates do.”
Packmates. The word settles over me like a warm blanket, filling spaces inside me I didn’t even know were empty. For so long, I’ve been independent by necessity, convinced that needing someone was a weakness I couldn’t afford.
But sitting under the stars with three Alphas who would literally fight for me, who make me laugh, drive me crazy, and worship my body like it’s their religion, feels like home in a way nothing ever has before.
“So, what happens now?” I ask, voicing thequestion that’s been nagging at me since we left the restaurant. “What if he comes back?”
“He won’t,” Atlas says with absolute certainty. “And if he does, we’ll handle it.”
“I don’t want to cause you problems?—”
“Emma,” River interrupts, leaning over to silence me with a gentle kiss. “Stop borrowing trouble. Chad is a coward and a bully, and bullies run when they meet real resistance. He’s already halfway back to whatever rock he crawled out from under.”
“And even if he wasn’t,” Levi adds. “We meant what we said. You’re ours now. That means your problems are our problems, your fights are our fights. No exceptions.”
I look between the three of them and feel something click into place inside me. These are my Alphas. This is my pack. This is my future.
“Okay,” I say simply and mean it. “Okay.”
We sit in comfortable silence after that, finishing our impromptu dinner while the stars come out overhead.
Chad tried to make me feel small, tried to drag me back into the darkness of self-doubt and insecurity. Instead, he gave my Alphas a chance to show me exactly where I stand with them. He reminded me how far I’ve come from the broken woman who fled to Whispering Grove less than two weeks ago.
I lean back against Atlas’s chest, River’s hand warm on my waist, Levi’s fingers gentle in my hair, and smile up at the infinitesky above us.
This is what real happiness feels like. This is what home feels like.
And no one—not Chad, not anyone—is ever going to take it away from me again.
19
EMMA
The cursor blinks mockingly at me from my laptop screen. I’ve just finished another chapter. Fourteen pages. Damn amazing for a morning’s work. I lean back in the wooden chair I’ve claimed as mine here in the watchtower, stretching my arms above my head until my spine pops. A week of this routine and I’m finally hitting my stride again. The words are flowing like they haven’t in months—hell, maybe years.
If I keep this pace, I’ll have the manuscript finished by the end of next month. The thought sends a thrill through me. For the first time since Chad’s betrayal, I feel like myself again. Like the writer I was meant to be, not some broken shell of a woman questioning every word she puts on paper.
The morning sun streams through the windows, casting everything in golden light. I dive into plottingthe next chapter when heavy, deliberate footsteps thump on the wooden stairs outside.
“Don’t mind me,” Atlas’s deep voice rumbles as he steps into the watchtower, his full attention on me. “Just enjoying the scenery.”
I twist in my chair to face him, and sweet Jesus, the man should come with a warning label. He’s wearing jeans that could be classified as a public hazard for how perfectly they hug every inch of his powerful thighs. His navy button-up shirt is rolled to his elbows, revealing those corded forearms that make my mouth go dry, and he’s got that slow, knowing smile that makes my heart perform Olympic-level gymnastics.
“The scenery of the forest is pretty spectacular from up here,” I manage, though my voice comes out breathier than I intended.
“I wasn’t talking about the forest.” His gaze sweeps over me, taking in my messy bun, my oversized sweater that’s slipping off one shoulder, and the way I’m curled up in this chair like it’s my personal throne.
“Oh?” Heat blooms in my cheeks, spreading down my neck. “What scenery were you referring to, Chief?”
He strides toward me with powerful shoulders, chest out, lips pulling into a devious grin. My skin prickles with awareness.
“A brilliant woman lost in her creative world, completely in her element.” He stops close enough that I inhale his intoxicating scent, and the heat radiating from him. “That’s one hell of aview, Emma.”
My cheeks burn hotter, and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Keep talking like that, and you’re going to give me a complex.”
“Good. I like making you blush.” His voice drops to that gravelly tone that does inappropriate things to my insides. “Makes me wonder where else you blush.”
“Atlas,” I tease.
