Chapter 27
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Lina
“Come on, I have something to show you.”
Knox smiled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the front door. His gray eyes were sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like mischief, and I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or terrified.
“Where are we going?”
“Home. I have a surprise.”
A surprise. Great. The last surprise we’d received had been a pacifier belonging to a kidnapped baby and a photograph proving our enemies were watching us. I wasn’t exactly in the mood for more surprises.
But Knox looked so damn pleased with himself that I couldn’t say no.
Thea and Rowan were at kindergarten, finally back to their normal activities after days of being cooped up at home.
The supervision had been intense. Guards at every entrance of the school.
Wolves stationed in the parking lot. Teachers briefed on the situation and given emergency protocols.
Moonfang’s guards had helped too, their extra presence making both Knox and me feel more secure about letting the twins out of our sight.
But the twins had been so happy when we told them they could go back that all the extra precautions felt worth it.
They really missed their classmates. Thea had talked about nothing else for two days straight. Rowan had been quieter about it, but I had seen the way his eyes lit up when we mentioned school.
Knox, being Knox, had bought small gifts for them to bring. Little treats and toys for each of their classmates, plus a picnic basket filled with snacks they could share during lunch. When I asked why, he just shrugged and said he wanted the twins to have a good first day back.
I loved him for that. For the big gestures and the small ones. For the way he thought about our children’s happiness even when the world was falling apart around us.
Last night had been long but good. Blake had woken up around one in the morning to nurse, and I had changed her diaper while she fussed and squirmed and eventually settled back to sleep. The other two times she cried, Knox had told me to stay in bed.
“I’ve got her,” he had mumbled, already pushing back the covers. “Sleep.”
And he had gone himself to check on her. Had rocked her and soothed her and brought her back to me when she needed to eat. Had done it all without complaint, without resentment, without making me feel guilty for needing rest.
This morning, I had been ready to pack up Blake and head back to our house. But Sarah had pouted. Actually pouted, her lower lip sticking out like a child denied dessert.
“Can I have her for a bit more time?” she had asked, reaching for the baby. “Just a few more hours. I barely got to hold her yesterday.”
“Sarah, you held her for three hours straight.”
“That’s not enough.”
I had been about to argue when the front door swung open and Serena walked in without knocking.
“I’m ready for shopping day!” Knox’s mother announced, her arms full of catalogues and her expression bright with anticipation.
She spotted Sarah and the baby and immediately made a beeline for them.
“Oh, look at her. Look at that precious face. Sarah, isn’t she the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? ”
“She is,” Sarah agreed. “Lina was just about to let me keep her for a few more hours.”
I blinked. “I was?”
“You were,” Sarah said firmly.
Serena clapped her hands together. “Perfect! That gives us plenty of time.”
I looked between the two women, confused. “Time for what?”
“Shopping, dear. Sarah and I agreed. We’re getting clothes and toys and everything Blake and the twins could possibly need. And you’re coming with us.”
“When did you two become such good friends?”
Sarah and Serena exchanged a look. The kind of look that suggested they had been conspiring behind my back for longer than I realized.
“We bonded over grandchildren,” Sarah said simply.
“And the shared experience of raising difficult sons,” Serena added with a pointed glance at Knox, who had been hovering in the doorway.
“Hey,” he protested. “I’m not difficult.”
“You kicked down a bathroom door because your wife dropped a bottle of conditioner.”
Knox’s eyes narrowed. “Who told you?!”
Without waiting for an answer, his expression darkened further. “Fucking Noah.”
I snorted. Knox shot me a betrayed look.
“Anyway,” he said loudly, “I actually need to borrow Lina for a bit. I have something to show her.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “Something more important than shopping?”
“Much more important.”
“Fine. But we’re taking Blake and you’re bringing Lina back within two hours. We have stores to visit.”
Knox rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t promise that. We might get... busy.”
Sarah lifted an eyebrow.
Serena grimaced. “Just leave,” she said, shooing us toward the door with both hands.
Knox snorted.
I felt heat flood my cheeks and reached over to pinch his side hard. “You did not just say that in front of your mother,” I hissed.
“What? It’s true.”
“Knox!”
He just laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me out the door before I could die of embarrassment.
And that was how I found myself being dragged through Ravenshollow by my overly excited mate, with no idea what I was walking into.
I’m not going to lie. I was slightly anxious. What was he planning? The last time Knox had surprised me with something, it had been a recreation of my bookstore in wolf territory. The man did not do things by halves.
We reached our house and greeted the guards at the entrance. Knox pulled me inside, through the living room, and into the kitchen.
“Are you planning on cooking?” I asked, watching him move toward the counter.
“I’m planning on eating,” he said, winking at me.
Oh.
OH.
Heat flooded my cheeks. My mind immediately went to all the ways Knox liked to eat, and none of them involved food. My body responded instantly, warmth pooling between my thighs, my pulse quickening.
But instead of pushing me against the counter and getting kinky, Knox chuckled and shook his head.
“But first, I want to show you this.”
He moved to the knife holder on the counter, a wooden block with six slots for various sized blades. He reached for the third knife, the medium-sized one in the middle, and instead of pulling it out, he pushed it down.
Like a lever.
“What...?” I started.
The counter split down the middle.
I stared, mouth hanging open, as the marble surface separated and slid apart, revealing a set of stairs going down into darkness. Low railings lined both sides of the walls, and LED lights flickered on automatically, illuminating the entire space in soft white light.
“What is this?” I breathed.
Knox grinned. “It’s a panic room. Come on, follow me.”
He stepped onto the first stair and held out his hand. I took it, still too stunned to form coherent sentences, and let him lead me down into the hidden passage.
Behind us, he pulled down a red lever on the wall. The counter above slid back together, sealing us in with a soft click.
“Knox. What the hell.”
“Just wait. It gets better.”
We walked through the tunnel. The space was tall enough for Knox to stand upright without ducking, and wide enough for both of us to walk side by side. The walls were smooth concrete, reinforced with steel beams at regular intervals. The air was cool but not damp, clearly climate controlled.
Ten minutes of steady walking. Ten minutes of following the LED lights through the underground passage.
Finally, we reached a thick metal door. Industrial strength, from the look of it. The kind of door you’d find in a bank vault or a military bunker.
Knox punched a code into the panel beside it. I watched his fingers move. Numbers I recognized. The twins’ birthdays. Blake’s birthday. All combined together.
The door swung open with a soft hiss of pressurized air.
I stepped inside and lost the ability to speak.
The room was huge. Not closet sized, not bunker sized, but actual living space sized. And it was... cozy. Warm. Filled with everything I could possibly need.
One wall was lined with bookshelves, stacked with familiar titles.
My favorites. Romances and mysteries and fantasies and those spicy books I pretended I didn’t read.
A comfortable leather couch faced a large television mounted on the opposite wall.
There were toys scattered in one corner, a play area for the kids with soft mats and building blocks and stuffed animals.
A bed occupied another section of the room, queen sized with fluffy pillows and soft blankets. A small kitchenette had a mini fridge, a microwave, and shelves stocked with enough food to last weeks.
And there, gleaming on the counter like a beacon of hope, was a coffee machine. Not just any coffee machine. The fancy kind. The kind that cost more than my first car.
I squeaked and ran to it, my hands hovering over the sleek surface like it was a holy relic.
“You did this for us?” I asked, turning to look at Knox.
He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with a soft smile on his face.
“Yes. Just in case you ever need to hide.” He pushed off the frame and walked toward me, his expression growing more serious.
“If anything happens, I want you to come here with the kids. You have enough food and entertainment to last until I kill everyone who threatens you and come find you. There’s even a panic button.
” He pointed to a red button on the wall near the door.
“Press that, and I’ll know immediately. I’ll come faster than you can blink. ”
My heart swelled with emotion. This man. This ridiculous, overprotective, wonderful man. He had built an entire underground sanctuary just to keep us safe. Had thought of everything. Books for me. Toys for the kids. Coffee because he knew I couldn’t function without it.
“I love it,” I said, my voice thick. “But I wish you would be here with us. If something happens, I don’t want to be hiding while you’re out there fighting.”