Page 121 of Juliet & Her Romeos

My chest tightens.

Then the music starts, drowning out the sound of the blizzard.

The music is complex and fluid, as if Benedict’s fingers are dancing over the keys as rapidly and elegantly as Swan and I dance together.

He’s a true virtuoso.

Gradually, I relax.

Benedict pulls me against his shoulder, stroking my hair. “Close your eyes. Imagine only the blue skies and the bright sun. You’re there with me and our pack.”

I smile, imagining that it’s summer at Romeo Hall.

I’m lying out on the lawn in the gardens, staring up at the azure sky, while Benedict sprawls next to me. Swan dances to the music with Vito, and Ambrose stands watching guard over us all.

For the first time in my life, I feel safe in the storm.

I snuggle more firmly against Benedict.

Then a wave of heat hits me, and I moan.

My eyes snap open.

Reluctantly, I drag the earbuds out and shove the phone back to Benedict, who pushes it out of the nest. “I’m close to…”

Ambrose’s brow creases in concern. “I’m carrying her to my bed to make her more comfortable.”

He wants me in his own bedroom?

Benedict sits up from the bed in a rain of paper.

He bares his teeth. “This is our nest. No changes have been agreed. My Juliet needs a nest for her heat. I’ll build her a better one, anything she likes. Isn’t this good enough?”

I hear the vulnerability under that.

Isn’t his nestgood enough?Is it defective…like he is?

Isn’t he good enough?

Still, I can’t help the thrill at the way he calls it ournest.

“Benedict, stop,” Ambrose commands. His amber gaze is stern. “We can build her another one in our bedroom.”

“She likes our nest,” Benedict replies with a growl.

It appears that Omegas are territorial about their nests.

“Your nest is ideal.” Ambrose’s expression gentles. “It suits your needs perfectly. But it may not be what Juliet needs—”

“It is,” I say, quickly. “I like the feel of these pages. I can’t wait to be naked amongst them like my Foxy. Perhaps, we could add something that smells of all of us like…”

“Our clothes? I’ve got you, my Queen.” Swan swaggers through the library like he owns it.

Of course he does.

It doesn’t matter that he was raised as a servant and then in the academy. Swan could style out that he belonged even in a palace.

I’m probably the only one who can see that it’s bravado to cover his nerves.

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