Page 116 of Fight

“Believe it,” he murmurs, picking me up. “I think we’re just going to have a naked breakfast. There’s no reason for clothes.”

Shaking my head, I happily go along with it, because it’s my birthday, and clothes are overrated when his cock is still inside of me.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, looking around at the arts and crafts store.

“Gabriel gave me an earful while you were in the shower one day, but I think he’s right,” Augustine begins. “You need a proper nest until we find a house.”

“A house, huh?” I murmur, seeing a turquoise sheer piece of fabric that transitioned into purple at the bottom.

“Mmhm,” he says. “We’re a pack, Cere. I agreed to live in the apartment until I found my scent match, remember?”

God, I can’t believe I made him promise that.

“Yes,” I grumble. “We do need a larger space, and I’m itching for somewhere I can paint the walls.”

“Exactly,” he says with a nod. “How would you feel about making your bedroom a nest until we move out permanently?”

“I don’t know why I’ve never thought of that,” I say honestly.

“I do,” he murmurs, linking his fingers in mine to tug me toward the fabric I’m looking at. “You’ve been suppressing your natural instincts, and you hide away during your heat. There was no reason you’d think about spreading out.”

Nodding, I agree. “I stuff a lot away,” I admit with a wince as I touch the fabric. God, it's sheer and beautiful. It would be pretty as curtains. “I love this.”

Augustine nods as he lifts two full panels from the fabric. “Curtains?” he asks as I nod. I have two big windows in my room, and this will be perfect there. “What else are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t seen my mother in a really long time,” I whisper as he puts the fabric inside the cart. “I think I should go soon. I stopped when each visit ended in her screaming at me.”

“You don’t owe someone your peace if they’re not well,” Augustine growls. “I don’t know everything, but you’ve been taking care of her since you moved to Minneapolis. The facility was the final option.”

Biting my lip as we walk through the aisles, I sigh. “In the beginning, she really was trying to keep me safe,” I explain. “My fathers would have killed me when they found out I was a girl. They told her as much when she ran the first time and they dragged her back. There was a woman who helped her disappear, but Mama was paranoid, always worried they’d find us. So we were always on the move.”

“You were so young,” Augustine mutters. “How do you even explain to your kid that her fathers are assholes?”

“I was like sixteen when she laid it all out for me,” I tell him. “That’s when I decided I never wanted a pack. When I was twenty, someone talked me into going to a dating roulette type event, which is when I met you. I’d already been using my alpha pheromone blocker spray, though the first one wasn’t really the safest.”

“Fuck me,” he grunts. “I hate that you decided that was the best option.”

“It’s why I agreed to the fundraiser when Aisling and Wren asked to do it at the club,” I say. “Services are shit for omegas, unless it’s as a glorified assisted living facility for broken omegas. Everyone who works at Weeping Willow Home is a beta or omega, because alphas tend to set off those who live there. They also rarely have openings unless there’s a death. It’s not somewhere you check in to get better.”

“Aisling and Wren found a place to start building,” Augustine says with a grin.

“They called me,” I tell him. “Aisling said she was almost in tears when she saw Jasper. He handled it well. Didn’t panic at all.”

“I think you’re the only one he panics around when tears are involved,” Augustine says with a snicker.

Shrugging, I decide I’m okay with that. “I may see about volunteering some time once they’re up and running,” I confess. “I think it’ll help me as much as the people I talk to. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” he says, lifting a pillow he saw me linger on. “If you want to see your mother, do it, but let one of us know, please?”

None of them can come with me since they’re alphas, and Gabriel is large enough to be confused for one.

“I promise,” I agree. “Can we buy a bigger bed?”

“This is your birthday present, so yes. You get whatever your heart desires,” he says, kissing my forehead. “I’m at your disposal. Curtain hanger, furniture mover, whatever. Fuck, if you need more sex toys, I’m down.”

An older woman glares at us as she walks by, and I slap his chest as I bend over laughing. My face is flaming, but I’m having the best fucking time.

Happy twenty-sixth birthday to me.

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