Page 155 of Knot Like Other Girls

I follow as our small procession moves toward the guest room Bella selected upon our arrival. It's a good choice—southeast facing, with excellent natural light and a comfortable proximity to both the kitchen and the main bathroom.

Within minutes, the room becomes a hub of focused activity. Liam and Roman drag every mattress in the house into the room to cover nearly the entire floor. Cole carries in box after box of materials from Soft Spot, setting them down in the corner. Troy bustles about arranging water bottles, energy bars, and fresh fruit on the nightstand, already planning for the marathon ahead.

Bella is already tearing into packages and spreading fabrics across the mattresses. Her movements have an instinctual purpose to them, as if she's remembering rather than learning.

"I've never done this before," she murmurs, looking slightly surprised at her own actions as she arranges a piece of thick velvet in a sweeping arc.

"Instinct will guide you," I tell her, stepping further into the room.

She looks up at me, her hands still moving among the fabrics. "It feels like I'm remembering something I never knew I forgot."

"Precisely." I kneel beside her on the gigantic makeshift bed, noting how she's already begun categorizing materials bytexture rather than color—heavy, plush fabrics forming the base layer, lighter silks and satins set aside for later. "Omega nesting behaviors are among the most deeply encoded genetic memories people possess."

Troy snorts at me from where he's arranging drinks. "Leave it to you to make this sound like a science lecture."

I ignore him, focusing instead on Bella's progress. "You're creating concentric circles," I observe. "Outer ring for protection, inner layers for comfort and security."

"I didn't realize I was doing that," Bella says, looking down at her work with new understanding. "Could you hand me that blue plush?" she asks, pointing to a bolt of fabric near my knee.

I handle her the fabric, admiring the way Bella's omega nature guides her movements. She works with increasing confidence as she arranges each piece, tucking corners and smoothing wrinkles with meticulous care.

"It needs to be perfect," she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

"It will be," I assure her, passing another length of velvet when she reaches for it. "Your instincts know exactly what you need."

Roman appears in the doorway, arms laden with additional pillows from the living room sofa. "Where do you want these?" he asks, his usual commanding presence softened around the edges when addressing her.

She glances around the room. "Around the outer edge, I think. For structure."

As Roman arranges the pillows according to her specifications, I catch a glimpse of Cole hovering in the hallway, holding something in his scarred hand. He hesitates as if he isn't sure if he should enter the developing nest.

I raise an eyebrow at him in silent question.

Bella looks up, her hands stilling on the fabric she's arranging. "Hi," she says sweetly to him, eyes flicking to his hand. "What is that?"

Cole steps forward reluctantly, revealing what he's been hiding. A small wooden wolf carved from what appears to be cherry wood. For some reason, I'm surprised it isn't howling. He carved it in a standing pose, ears erect and head held high, looking down like a watchful protector.

The symbolism isn't lost on me.

"Made this for you," he says to her in that gravelly voice.

"Cole," she breathes, extending her hand. "It's beautiful."

I watch the exchange with interest, noting how Cole's typically guarded expression softens as Bella accepts his gift. He's been significantly less tense lately.

"Thank you," Bella says, placing the wolf carefully on the windowsill overlooking the mountain view and positioning it so it faces the developing nest. A guardian for her most vulnerable time.

Troy barrels in with another armload of supplies, nearly tripping over a roll of fabric in his enthusiasm. He almost slams into Cole as a result, but the more agile alpha steps aside just in time with a growl.

"I raided the linen closet," Troy announces, dumping an assortment of blankets and sheets onto an empty corner of the mattress. "Some of these have been washed with our detergent, so they've got pack scent on them already."

"Perfect," Bella says, reaching for a navy blue throw I recognize as one Troy often claims during movie nights. She buries her face in it briefly, inhaling deeply before incorporating it into the developing structure.

I catch Roman's eye across the room, noting how his pupils dilate slightly at the sight of Bella surrounded by our communalscents. His alpha instincts are clearly engaged, though his control, as always, remains impeccable.

"What else do you need?" Roman asks, his voice deeper than usual as he fights to maintain his composure.

Bella looks around the room, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Something to serve as the central cushion, I think. The heart of the nest."

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