Page 23 of Nesting With My Three Alphas
Kit's laugh wobbled, but it was real. "She really has been planning it, hasn't she?"
"Color-coded charts, Kit. Pillow schematics."
"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?"
"The best kind of trouble." I nudged her back inside to grab her keys. "Let's go face the nest-building committee."
As we walked the short path to Jonah's, I scanned every driveway, every vehicle, every shadow. My brain had clicked into full protective mode.
Kit walked closer to me than before, like she felt the shift.
"Reed?" she said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For not letting me run."
"Thank you for choosing to stay."
Charlie must've been watching because the front door flew open before we could knock.
"Kit! Reed! Are you ready for the best nest-building session ever?" She practically bounced. "I have everything organized by texture and comfort level!"
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Kit said, ruffling her hair. "Lead the way, project manager."
Jonah appeared behind her, reading us in one glance.
"Everything okay?" he asked. His voice was casual, but his eyes were sharp.
"Everything's fine," Kit said.
I met Jonah's gaze and gave a slight shake of my head. We'd talk later.
"Good," he said simply. "Just know Charlie's got very strong opinions about optimal nest architecture."
"I've done research!" Charlie declared. "Did you know nests should have zones for sleeping, scent-marking, and emotional regulation?"
Kit's laugh this time was full and warm. "You're going to have to teach me everything."
As we stepped inside, I caught Jonah's arm. "We got a text. Someone's escalating."
His expression darkened. "How bad?"
"Bad enough. I'll fill you in."
"Understood."
I looked toward Kit, now crouched with Charlie over a pile of pillows and plush blankets. She was laughing again. She'd chosen to stay. Chosen to build something.
Whatever or whoever was hunting her?
They'd have to get through all of us first.
Chapter 8
Kit
Charlie had transformed Jonah's living room into what could only be described as a nesting laboratory. Blankets of every texture and color were sorted into careful piles, pillows were arranged by size and softness, and there was an actual notebook where she'd been taking what appeared to be very serious notes.
