Page 4 of Nesting With My Three Alphas
This place felt alive in a way that Marcus's world never had been. Full of connections and traditions and people who cared enough to bake cookies for strangers.
Maybe, just maybe, being found wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
I just had to make sure I didn't lose myself in the process.
But as I unwrapped Micah's cookies and took my first bite, chocolate chip perfection that tasted like home and second chances, I wondered if maybe, for the first time in years, losing myself might actually mean finding who I was supposed to be all along.
Chapter 2
Kit
Iwoke at dawn out of habit, my body still programmed to Marcus's rigid schedule even though he was three hundred miles away. The unfamiliar sounds of Hollow Haven filtered through the thin walls: birds I couldn't identify, and the distant hum of early commuters. People starting their days in ordinary ways, and my thoughts suddenly turned to next door and what their morning would look like.
The memory of yesterday's introductions made my chest warm in a way I wasn't ready to examine. I'd spent two years in a sterile apartment where the only sounds were traffic and Marcus's disapproval. Waking up to the sound of Hollow Haven starting the day felt like stepping into someone else's life.
I padded to the kitchen in my oversized sleep shirt and fuzzy socks, grateful that I'd had the foresight to pack coffee in my emergency box. The duplex looked different in the morning light, smaller somehow, but cozier too. The hardwoodfloors gleamed golden, and dust motes danced in the sunshine streaming through the bare windows.
Windows that definitely needed curtains. Along with about a thousand other things that would make this place feel like home instead of just a shelter.
I was halfway through my first cup of coffee when I heard it, a soft whimpering sound that definitely didn't belong to any bird. It was coming from somewhere inside the duplex, which was impossible since I was the only one here.
Unless I wasn't.
Moving carefully, I followed the sound through the living room toward the back of the house. The whimpering got louder as I approached what the landlord had optimistically called a "bonus room," really just a glorified closet with a window.
I pushed open the door and froze.
Curled up in the corner like a lost puppy was Charlie, Jonah's daughter. She was still in her pajamas, dinosaur print flannel that had seen better days, and her dark hair stuck up at impossible angles. But it was the way she was positioned that made my omega instincts flare to life.
She'd arranged a blanket into a rough circle around herself, along with what looked like a throw pillow she'd somehow acquired and a small stuffed dragon that was clearly well-loved. Her little face was flushed with sleep, and she was making soft, distressed sounds that went straight to my heart.
She was nesting. In my house. In my space.
And instead of the territorial anger I should have felt, all I could think was how small she looked, how vulnerable. How my scent was probably already settling into the blankets around her, marking this space as somehow ours.
Dangerous territory. I hadn't taken my suppressant yet this morning. My scent would be stronger, more appealing to a pup looking for comfort.
"Charlie?" I said softly, not wanting to startle her.
Her eyes flew open, wide with panic. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I just..."
"Hey, it's okay." I crouched down slowly, the way I would approach any frightened creature. "You're not in trouble."
"I couldn't sleep last night," she whispered, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "And it smelled safe here. Like you. But then I started making a fort and I fell asleep and now Dad's gonna be worried and..."
"Charlie." My voice came out firmer than I intended, carrying just a hint of the omega authority I'd learned to suppress around Marcus. "Take a deep breath. You're safe, and you're not in trouble."
She inhaled shakily, her small body relaxing slightly as my scent wrapped around her. That was when I noticed it, the way my scent had settled into the space, mixing with hers to create something that felt dangerously like family.
I shouldn't want this. The thought hit me like a physical blow. Wanting got you caged.
But Charlie was looking at me with such trust, such complete faith that I would keep her safe, and I couldn't bring myself to pull away.
"Your nest is very nice," I said instead, settling cross-legged beside her makeshift fort. "You've got good instincts for texture contrast."
Charlie's face brightened immediately. "Really? I wasn't sure if I was doing it right. Dad doesn't really know about omega stuff, and I've never built a proper one before."
The casual way she mentioned her father's limitations hit me right in the chest. A single alpha raising a pup without omega guidance: no wonder Charlie had been drawn to my space.
