Page 108 of Knot Your Karma
“Declan,” Mom calls as I reach the threshold. “What about Christmas? What about family?”
“My family will be at the lighthouse Christmas Eve, making promises to love and protect each other for the rest of our lives. You’re all welcome.” I look directly at Blake, whose face goes slack with disbelief, mouth still open on unspoken protests. “Some people aren’t.”
I close the door on Blake’s shocked expression and my parents’ determined faces—Mom’s hand pressed against her heart, Dad standing with shoulders set in that particular way that means a decision has been made and won’t be reconsidered,and Father looking like someone who’s finally seen the full scope of a failure he should have caught years ago.
Tension finally bleeds from my shoulders as I head downstairs.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Reed: How’d it go with the parents?
I type back quickly.
Me: Blake showed up. Found out about Karma. Lost his mind. Parents choosing sides. Drama complete.
Reed: Jesus. You okay?
Me: Better than okay. On my way home to pack.
Because that’s what I have now. Not just parents who might or might not support my choices, not just a brother who’s finally facing consequences, but home. Pack. Chosen family who value the same things I do.
I walk back toward Karma’s house—our house—where vanilla and sea salt wait to welcome me home, where Reed’s probably planning elaborate ceremony logistics with diplomatic precision, where Adrian’s building something beautiful with his thoughtful hands.
Where the woman Blake threw away is building a life worthy of everything good I can give her.
Blake was right about one thing, actions have consequences.
Sometimes those consequences are exactly what everyone deserves.
Karma
Christmas Eve morningis one of those stupidly perfect December days where everything looks like a postcard, which would be romantic if I weren’t about to have a complete nervous breakdown about getting bonded in front of the entire town.
Winter air so crisp it burns slightly in your lungs while making colors more vivid—the lighthouse white against sky-blue, evergreen garlands deep emerald against cream silk. From my bedroom window, I can see the lighthouse point where we’ll be making our formal promises in just a few hours, and my hands shake against the cream silk dress hanging on my closet door.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that floor,” Destiny observes from her perch on my bed, where she’s been providing moral support and commentary for the last hour while I pace between my closet and the mirror.
“I’m not pacing. I’m... considering my options.”
“You’ve considered that dress seventeen times. It’s perfect. You look like a winter goddess, and your pack is going to lose their collective minds when they see you.”
I smooth down the vintage cream silk dress I found at an estate sale in Newport—1940s cut with delicate pearl buttons and lace sleeves that feel like something from a fairy tale. The fabric whispers against my skin with each movement, expensive and well-cared-for despite its age. It’s the kind of dress Grandma Rose would have called special occasion worthy, which feels exactly right for today.
“What if I trip? What if I actually face-plant in front of the entire town? What if I cry and ruin my makeup and look like a raccoon in all the photos? What if I forget what I’m supposed to say and just stand there going, ‘Hi, I’m Karma, and I have no idea how to do this?’” My scent fluctuates between sweet anticipation and sharp anxiety, making the air around me practically vibrate with conflicting emotions.
“Then you’ll be human, which is exactly what your pack fell in love with.” Destiny stands up, moving to fix my hair where nervous fingers have messed with the thoughtfully arranged waves, her touch gentle and steadying. “Karma, honey, these men have seen you at your worst—panic attacks, compass theft confessions, Sage Morrison blackmail attempts. You think they’re gonna change their minds because you get emotional during your own bonding ceremony?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
“Because it is ridiculous. Girl, those men worship the ground you walk on. They’ve literally rearranged their entire lives for you. If that’s not permanent, I don’t know what is.”
A knock at the front door interrupts my spiraling, followed by the sound of familiar voices in the entryway. Downstairs, Reed’s got his smooth negotiator thing going on, Adrian sounds as if he’s solved every possible problem already, and Declan’s using that voice that makes me feel as if he’s got everything handled.
“That’ll be the grooms,” Destiny says with a grin that transforms her entire face. “Though I’m still not sure what to call three men who are all marrying the same woman.”
“Pack,” I say simply. “You call them pack.”
“Pack it is. Should I tell them you’re ready, or do you need more time to panic about absolutely nothing?”
