Page 136 of Claimed By the Band

"That'll be dinner," Damon sighs. "Or the nesting supplies. Come on, Dante, let's get it while these three are... indisposed."

"Fine," Dante grumbles, but I catch the amusement in his voice. "But we're getting our turns later."

"Plenty of time for that," Silas assures him as they head downstairs. "This is just the beginning."

I can't help but laugh despite still being locked together with Knox and in no hurry to pull out of Jordan anytime soon "Well," I say breathlessly, "I'd say we gave the old nest a proper sendoff."

Jordan giggles beneath me, the sound making both Knox and me growl again as it causes her to clench around my oversensitive length. "We definitely did."

46

JORDAN

Irun my fingers over the soft velvet of a new throw pillow, admiring how the deep purple catches the light. The nesting room is a mess of boxes and bags, but I can already see how everything will fit together. My heat simmers under my skin, temporarily sated by Asher but far from finished.

"What do you think?" Asher asks, holding up two blankets. "The gray one first, or the purple?"

I consider the options carefully. My omega instincts, which I spent so many years suppressing, now guide me with surprising clarity. "Gray," I decide. "It'll make a good foundation layer. Then we can add pops of color on top."

He beams at me, clearly pleased that I'm taking charge of the nest building. "Perfect choice."

We work together seamlessly, arranging blankets and pillows with practiced efficiency. Even though this is our first time building a proper nest together, it feels natural. Like we've been doing this forever.

"A little to the left," I suggest as Asher adjusts one of the new body pillows. He shifts it immediately, trusting my judgment without question.

It still amazes me sometimes, how easily he defers to me in moments like this. How he makes me feel safe and valued even though he's in heat too. His honeyed scent fills the air, mingling with my roses and rain like they're two halves of the same whole.

"These are perfect for the corners," he says, passing me the firm support pillows in our pack's colors. The simple gesture, including everyone's preferences in our nest, is the perfect finishing touch.

"Thank you," I murmur, running my fingers over the soft covers.

"For what?" he asks, pausing in his arrangement of throw pillows.

"For this. For always making me feel... included. Safe." The words come easier now, even if vulnerability still feels strange sometimes.

Asher's expression softens as he crosses the space between us. His arms slip around my waist, pulling me close as he nuzzles into my neck. "You're pack," he says simply. "And you'remyomega. You're what I always wanted, and spent years searching for, but it was always you. This is your nest too. Your home."

I melt into his embrace, letting his familiar scent wash over me. My heat starts to build again at his proximity, making me arch against him instinctively.

"Easy," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to our pack's marks on my throat. "Let's finish the nest first. Then we can break it in properly."

I nod stiffly, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. We still have several boxes to unpack, and I want everything to be perfect before we invite the others in.

The fairy lights Asher picked out cast a soft glow over everything as we work, making the space feel magical and intimate. When we hang the macrame piece I picked out over the head of the bed, the beads catch the light beautifully.

"It's perfect," Asher declares, stepping back to admire our work. "You have amazing instincts for this."

I flush at his praise but can't deny the satisfaction I feel looking at our creation. The nest is a perfect blend of both our styles, my more practical comfort mixed with his flair for aesthetics.

"Do you think they'll like it?" I ask, suddenly uncertain.

Asher laughs, pulling me close again. "Are you kidding? They're going to love it. Especially since we made it together." His hands slide down my sides, making me shiver. "It's perfect, isn't it?"

I bite my lip, considering. The nest is soft and inviting and arranged exactly how we want it. But something's missing.

"Almost," I say. "It just needs one more thing."

"What's that?"

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