Page 123 of Grim

I carried the tree up to our apartment. I could hear the echoes of our footsteps through the door that used to lead to Sizzle’s apartment. His apartment was already stripped bare and ready for the construction of our den.

“Over by this wall, you think?” Journey pointed to the left side of the room and the only corner that wasn’t covered in either rugs, blankets, or small chairs.

“Perfect,” I said, standing it in the corner.

I dusted my hands off, staring at my work. It was the perfect size for our den, and the smell of the outdoors in our little den made Leif purr in pleasure.

Maybe having a Christmas tree wasn’t all that bad.

“He likes it too,” Journey mused, rubbing her cheek on my arm. “It will look even better once we get lights on it. It will bring out the magic.”

“The magic?”

Journey hummed happily. “Yeah, magic. But I guess it isn’t really magic. Just something make-believe for children. Kinda like those old fairy tales I used to read. The lights will make it more real. I think humans are just very visual beings.”

I chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Whatever you say, my mate.”

I could not care less about the tree, but as long as it made her happy.

I walked to the kitchen, pulling out meat and vegetables for our next meal. Journey had worked up quite the appetite, I could hear her stomach protesting the absence of food.

While I cooked, Journey padded to the nest and put her hands on her hips. Her head tilted to the side, her hand resting on her cheek.

She studied the nest, her hand reaching out and pulling on one of the blankets. It fell to the floor, and she picked it up, sniffing it. I paused, watching her. She took another blanket and pulled it from the nest, laying it on a chair nearby.

A low growl of disapproval permeated the air, and it caused me stress watching her. Journey pulled more blankets off the bed. She hastily threw pillows to the opposite sides of the bed.

Her wolf was surfacing.

She was re-making our nest.

Leif and I had made our nest in the beginning, hoping that our mate would like it, because she didn’t know how to make a proper nest. She didn’t understand the importance of smells, how blankets, pillows, and even articles of worn clothing could make or break a nest.

Journey crawled into the torn nest, her nose twitching, her head tilting back and forth as she took the piles of pillows around her and placed them in distinct positions.

My mate was making our nest to her liking, and it filled me with the utmost pride and adoration. She was letting the wolf inside her take control of her body, using her primal instincts to mark the nest as hers and ours.

She would want my scent; she would want my seed.

I low growl slipped from my throat, Journey’s head ticking my way. Her fingers fumbled with something in her hand.

“W-what am I doing?” she asked innocently. She gazed back at the sheets, the pillows, the blankets, and moved them again.

“You are nesting. Your wolf wants to make our nest comfortable for you, for your mate.”

And then another realization struck me.

Her estrus, more commonly known as her heat, was near.

Chapter Forty One

Journey

Istoodbackfromthe bed, my eyes widening at what I had done.

I’d stripped all the bedding and rearranged it because it felt “off.” It still felt off while I gazed at it. I only paused to fiddle with the small piece of plastic I found, finding it utterly familiar. It smelled of me.

I crossed my arms, trying to listen to Grim speak. His voice was muffled, I couldn’t completely hear him articulate his words. It was fuzzy as I tried to listen. Instead, I felt a presence inside me, showing me what I was supposed to be doing.

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