Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“God, you’re so full,” I whisper against her lips, my hand slipping between us to tease her clit, circling it in time with our rhythm. She shudders, clenching down hard, drawing groans from both of us, and Knox picks up the pace, his free hand finding my ass, squeezing in that rough, possessive way that blurs the lines even more. The friction builds, heat coiling low in my gut, and I know none of us will last long like this—it’s too much, too perfect, her body milking us as we claim her together.
Her moans turn frantic, body arching, and when she comes, it’s explosive, her inner muscles pulsing wildly, pulling us right over the edge with her. I spill deep inside, groaning her name, feeling Knox do the same, his thrusts erratic until we’re all spent, collapsing in a tangle of limbs and heavy breaths, the fire crackling softly in the background like applause.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Knox
A click.
Quiet enough that most people would sleep through it. I am not most people.
My eyes open before I’m fully conscious, every nerve firing alert. The cabin is dim, that gray pre-dawn light filtering through the windows. Hailey’s head rests on my shoulder, her breath warm against my collarbone. Liam’s arm is draped across us both, his forehead pressed to my spine.
We’ve been sleeping like this for two nights now. Piled together like survivors on a life raft. I’ve stopped pretending I don’t like it.
But that sound—
I hold still, listening. The wind has died down. That’s the first thing I register. The constant moan that’s been shaking the walls for days has gone quiet. The silence feels wrong. Heavy.
Then I hear it again. A mechanical click from the direction of the door.
Slowly, carefully, I extract myself from the tangle of limbs. Hailey murmurs something in her sleep but doesn’t wake. Liam’s arm slides off me, his hand curling into the empty space where I was.
I cross the room barefoot, the floorboards cold enough to make my jaw tight. The door is right there. Same door that’s been locked since they threw us in here. Same door I’ve tested a hundred times.
The handle turns.
It opens.
For one wild second, my heart slams against my ribs. Freedom. We can just walk out. We can—
Then I see what’s waiting for us.
Snow. Everywhere. A wall of white that comes up past my thighs at the porch line. The storm that’s been howling overhead for days finally spent itself, and it dumped everything it had right on top of us.
The forest beyond is unrecognizable. Trees bent low under the weight. No paths. No landmarks. Just endless wilderness in every direction, the kind of terrain that would swallow three people in city clothes and never give them back.
I step out onto the porch. The cold slams into me like a fist. Minus twenty at least, maybe colder. My lungs seize with the first breath. I’m wearing nothing but sleep pants and a T-shirt, and within seconds my feet are going numb on the frozen boards.
We’d be dead in an hour out there. Less, probably. No gear. No direction. No food. Just miles of mountain forest waiting to freeze us solid.
“Knox?”
I turn. Hailey’s in the doorway, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Liam a shadow behind her. Both of them staring past me at the white expanse.
“Door just unlocked,” I say. “Heard it click a minute ago.”
Liam pushes past Hailey to stand beside me, his jaw flexing as he takes in the view. His breath fogs in front of his face. “That’s not the escape it looks like.”
“No. It’s not.”
Marlena’s little joke. Give us the illusion of freedom while the weather makes damn sure we can’t use it. She’s probably watching right now, that crazy smile on her face, waiting to see if we’re stupid enough to try.
We’re not.
But then I spot something off to the side of the cabin. A small structure half-buried in the drifts. The woodshed. And inside, just visible through the gap in the door—an axe propped against a chopping block.
“At least I can get us more firewood now.” I nod toward the woodshed. “She probably noticed the pile was getting low. Might be why she unlocked the door.”
“I need to go out there.” Hailey’s voice is steady. “Get my bearings. See what we’re dealing with.”
I frown. “It’s dangerous.”
“It’s dangerous in here too.” She’s already turning, scanning the room for the warmest clothes. “Twenty minutes. That’s all. I need to know what’s around us. What our options are.”
I want to argue. Every instinct I have screams to keep her inside, keep her safe, lock the door again and pretend this never happened. But she’s right. We’ve been blind in here for four days. If there’s any chance of getting out of this, we need intelligence.
“We do it together,” I say. “Nobody goes alone.”