Page 128 of Chain Me Knot

She inhales and a plume of her sweet scent almost makes me cum in my pants but it’s exactly what she needs. Her gaze moves past me to the sofa and a soft whine travels past her plump, rosebud lips.

“Take anything you need, and if you can’t find it, tell us and we’ll get it for you,” I rasp.

Emma moves to the blanket we’ve shared for late-night movies and lazy mornings. She buries her nose into the material and inhalesdeep. Her eyes flutter closed, her whole body softening in a way that makes my chest tight and hungry at the same time.

Everything in me wants to cross the room, gather her up, and lose myself in her, but I wait. She hasn’t come back to me. Not yet, and I know she would if her instinct guided her to do so.

“Do you think she’s…” Soren breathes.

“I fucking hope so,” I reply, because fuck me, this looks like nesting to me.

She begins to sort through the throw pillows. She tests each one for some invisible measure only she knows, discarding a few, gathering the rest into a stack against her hip. Then she moves straight toward me again. The blanket and pillows slip from her arms and tumble to the floor as she winds her arms around my waist and buries her face in the side of my neck, right over my scent gland. Her nose pushes against my skin, her breath warm and hungry as she inhales. My pulse hammers down my spine, every drop of blood not already there, surging straight to my cock where it’s hard, pulsing so intenselyit’s painful.

I’ll take this type of pain because having her here, scenting me while smelling likethat,is imprinted on the inside of my skull.

My hands find her waist as need rips through me. Every muscle in my body strains, desperate for more of that scent, that closeness, that overwhelming, hungry touch. All coherent thought vanishes except the sharp, driving urge to claim her right here, to let every person in the entire world know she belongs to me—us—forever.

She tips her face up to me. Those bright blue eyes are swallowed by dilated pupils, so dark and wide they eclipse almost all traces of color. She's radiant with something wild, trembling between need and instinct. Her breasts are firm against my chest, nipples pointed and brushing heat through the fabric of my dress shirt. Every one of my nerves lights up—my hands flexing on her waist, hungry for more.

She squirms in my hold, restless, her focus shifting to the fallen blanket and the pile of pillows at her feet. Frustration and longing war across her face. “You want those, don't you?” I ask, brushing my thumb along her jaw.

She nods, a high, needy whine spilling out of her throat as she tries to reach for them but can’t seem to break away from me, either.

Soren crouches down to gather them into his arms. “I've got them, Emma. I’ll bring them. Don’t worry.”

I hope to hell she’s going to let Soren take them to the nest, where we’ll spend our days tending to her heat.

Her hand slips into mine, warm and trembling. I glance at my bond brothers, and Asher and Soren fall in step as she leads us down the hallway, bare feet silent on the wood. There’s a new purpose in her step, her need running hotter and heavier with each pace toward her bedroom. My instincts burn with the urge to help, to make this easier for her, to offer whatever she might need. The same hunger from Asher and Soren flare through our pack bond.

Want. Need. The overwhelming urge to accept whatever she’ll give me. I’ll accept it like the greedy bastard I am. I’ll savor every last drop and thank the gods she deigned to give me anything at all.

Her small hand tightens on mine as she guides us and, as we enter her bedroom, my groan bounces off the walls.

The nest doors stand open.

Wide and inviting.

Scenting of sweet omega. Her essence is strong and pure, everything good this world has to offer.

Emma glances over her shoulder as she hesitates on the threshold of the nest. Anxiety flickers in her eyes, unsure and vulnerable. Tart bitterness coats her scent as she hesitates.

I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. This is your space. You do whatever you need to do. No one here will ever hurt you for being who you are. This house, this nest, is all safe. You’re safe.”

“Safe.” The word floats on her exhale.

“Your nest is beautiful, Omega. Please finish it for us,” Asher’s deep rumble seems to be what she needs.

Soren’s breath punches out of his lungs when she takes the blanket and pillows from his arms, her scent billowing pure and sweet again. She lingers for just a moment and with a resolve that pierces through me, steps into her nest.

Asher and Soren flank me. Awe roots us to the spot as she sinks to her knees on the nest mattress.

The ceiling is lower here, making the space feel sheltered and cocooned. Soft golden lights line the perimeter, casting a gentle, steady glow that warms the walls and chases away every harsh shadow. In the center of the floor, the massive sunken mattress stretches nearly wall to wall, a cloud built for safety and comfort.

For a pack.

She must have already been working on building her nest. Blankets are already woven together around the mattress, forming a thick, protective lip. Emma’s work is intricate. Woven with patience and care, each fold and twist is deliberate. My breath stutters as I realize she’s woven pieces of our clothing into the design. I see my shirt, Soren’s sweater and Asher’s workout T-shirt.

She must have done this after I claimed her here. Giving in to her instincts so that her future included us.

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