Page 1 of Talk About… History

Avery

My heart raced as I hurried up the stairs toward our condo. The cake was balanced in one hand and our favorite takeout in the other. Even after several years, coming home to my pack never got old.

I’d grabbed the perfect combination for a night in that would end in us covering my nest with our scent.

Speaking of scents… the scent of vanilla and strawberry was so intense from the cake that it was starting to make me nauseous, but I was inches from our door.

Somehow the gods were looking out for me because I didn’t fumble anything as I fished my keys out of my pocket.

Shrill laughter sounded loud enough that I heard it through the thick wooden door.

Did the guys invite someone over? That’s odd. They knew what tonight was.

Oh my god, maybe it was a surprise anniversary party. That would be just like them. They were social butterflies and sometimes didn’t realize just how much of an introvert I was at times. I had to bite back a groan, because that was not at all how I planned to spend our night and I’d be far too exhausted after a party to do anything other than pass out in our bed.

Bracing myself for our friends and family to jump out and surprise me, I carefully twisted the key in the lock and shoved the door open.

Only, it wasn’t a party.

Instead it was my two mates both balls deep in another omega.

What the actual fuck. They knew I was off work and they did this just so I could find it? Did they have that little respect for me?

My eyes burned with unshed tears and my chest ached sharply with the betrayal. Nausea slammed into me when I realized the vanilla and strawberry scent wasn’t the cake, but the bitch they were fucking, a scent I knew.

The cake and takeout hit the floor with a thud, bringing all three sets of eyes my way.

“Avery,” Brad gasped, then shuddered as the omega screamed out. “Fuck.” His last groan had me shaking my head, tears falling down my cheeks now as I watched him shudder through his orgasm.

I didn’t want to watch, but it was like a train wreck I couldn’t tear my eyes from. It was the dumpster fire ending to a five-year relationship.

All that time and energy I spent on them was wasted.

The omega groaned again and Travis shifted, trying to unlock his knot from her but it was a lost cause. Nonsensical words were falling from his mouth as he struggled but I couldn’t focus on them.

He moved enough that I caught a glimpse of long blonde hair. There was no guilt in my ex-best friend’s eyes as she let out a laugh, followed by an over the top, porn-worthy scream just for me.

I dug my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture before putting it away. If I needed evidence, that was plenty. All of their faces were visible.

Anger flared inside of me but violence wasn’t my first choice. Instead, I ran toward my nest, slamming and locking the door behind me.

Shame, burning hot and volatile, swirled within me as I let out a feral scream. My omega wanted to go in there and rip that bitch limb from limb and she wasn’t happy I was denying her that.

Instead, I turned my focus to my nest.

This was something we built together and now it made my stomach turn. It still smelled like my exes, because there was no fucking way I was giving them another chance, and I didn’t want their scent mixed with mine ever again.

Another scream tore out of me as I lunged for the pillows, ripping the cases off and tearing the fabrics. The fabric cushions were next, then the clothes that I’d tucked inside the nooks and crannies during my last heat.

It was a frenzy of torn fabric and fluff in minutes.

The entire time I destroyed the nest, I couldn’t help but run through the awful comparisons between me and my former best friend. Wren was tall and blonde with bright blue eyes, her long hair silky and wavy, always perfect. I was short with straight black hair that wouldn’t hold a curl, and hazel eyes. I had curves that I loved, but even I could admit her thin frame made her look like a model and I was simply… soft.

Fuck, they just replaced me like I was nothing. The pain of that tore another sob from me but I refused to let sadness take hold. Instead, I clung to my anger.

“Avery!” Heavy fists slammed against the door as I screamed and raged, tearing down every single thing that decorated this stupid fucking nest.

When the soft things were done, I moved onto the walls. The pack picture had to go. I wrenched the backing off and tore out the picture, tearing it to tiny pieces and tossing it around like confetti. I continued the assault on every piece of art and decor lining my walls. No sconce, print, or macrame was safe.

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