"Yes!" Charlie jumped up, already gathering supplies. "Dad, can Kit borrow your green flannel? The really soft one?"
"Sure, buttercup." Jonah disappeared upstairs, returning with a shirt that made my omega side practically purr. It was worn soft from years of washing, and when he handed it to me, the scent that rose from the fabric, cedar and clean sweat and something uniquely him. It made my head spin in the best possible way.
"Thank you," I managed, probably holding onto the shirt longer than was strictly necessary.
We migrated to my duplex, Charlie carrying an armload of carefully selected pillows while the adults trailed behind with blankets and what appeared to be a checklist of optimal nesting configurations.
My bonus room looked different with five people in it: smaller, but also warmer. More alive. Charlie immediately began arranging pillows in what she declared was a "scientifically optimal semicircle," while Reed examined the window for draftpotential and Micah produced a thermos of something that smelled like chamomile and honey.
"For relaxation," he explained, handing me a cup. "Nesting can be emotionally intense."
That was certainly one way to describe the way my hands were shaking as I watched three alphas help create a space designed entirely around my comfort and safety.
"Okay, Kit," Charlie announced. "Time for the test run."
"Test run?"
"You have to try out the nest. Make sure it feels right." Charlie gestured to the arrangement of blankets and pillows like she was presenting a masterpiece. "The internet says you'll know if it's wrong because your omega will feel unsettled."
My omega was definitely feeling something, but unsettled wasn't the word I'd use. As I settled into the nest Charlie had created, pulling Jonah's flannel around my shoulders, I felt a sense of rightness that was almost overwhelming.
"How does it feel?" Charlie asked anxiously.
"Perfect," I said, and meant it. "It feels perfect."
The relief on Charlie's face was worth any awkwardness about accepting so much help. But when I looked up at the three alphas watching me settle into the nest they'd helped build, their expressions were anything but casual.
Hunger. Satisfaction. Possessiveness.
The look of alphas seeing their omega properly nested for the first time.
Their omega. The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it made something deep in my chest purr with contentment.
"We should let you rest," Jonah said, his voice carefully controlled. "Nesting can be exhausting."
"No, it's okay," I said quickly, not ready for them to leave. Not ready to lose this feeling of belonging, of being cared for bypeople who asked nothing in return. "I mean, unless you have somewhere else to be?"
"Nowhere else," Reed said immediately.
"I brought cookies," Micah added, producing a container from seemingly nowhere. "Thought we might need sustenance."
Charlie had already made herself comfortable on the floor beside the nest, pulling out a picture book about dinosaurs. "Can I read to you? Mom used to say that new nests needed good stories to make them feel like home."
The casual mention of her mother, the easy way she included me in family traditions, made my eyes burn with unexpected tears.
"I would love that," I said.
As Charlie began reading about triceratops migration patterns, her young voice filling the room with warmth and wonder, I found myself relaxing in ways I hadn't in months. Maybe years.
Jonah had settled into the chair by the window, close enough to reach if I needed anything. Reed was sprawled on the floor, occasionally commenting on Charlie's dramatic interpretations of dinosaur social dynamics. Micah had curled up in the corner with his own book, but I caught him watching me with soft eyes every few pages.
Pack, my omega whispered, recognizing something my rational mind was still fighting.
For the first time since fleeing Chicago, I let myself imagine what it might be like to stay. To build something real with these men who offered comfort without strings, who created safety without cages.
To finally come home.
Charlie's voice began to slow as she worked through a particularly complex passage about fossil evidence, and I felt my own eyelids growing heavy. The combination of their scents, thesoft nest beneath me, and the simple pleasure of being read to was more relaxing than any spa treatment Marcus had ever paid for.