Page 22 of Omega on the Rocks
I narrowed my eyes, scenting the air. His cologne was different today—too sharp. I shifted a blanket over the edge of the nest like a shield.
He moved cautiously closer. “You’re nesting.”
“No shit,” I muttered, patting down a fold of worn cotton like it was sacred.
Keiran sat on the floor beside the edge of the nest, watching me with something between reverence and amusement. “How long have you been at this?”
“Since before sunrise.”
He glanced at the window. “It’s almost dusk.”
I blinked, glancing toward the clock. He wasn’t lying. I’d been in here building this cocoon forhours, driven by instinct and something deeper I didn’t want to name.
“You okay?” he asked gently. “Not hurting?”
I paused, my hand resting on my round belly, feeling the flutter of movement just beneath the surface.
“No pain,” I said quietly. “Just… this need. I can’t explain it. It’s like my bodyknowssomething’s coming. Like it’s telling me to build the safest place in the world for them. And I don’t want to leave it. I don’t even wantyouin it unless I say so.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You don’t have to explain. This isyours. Whatever you need, I’ll get it. If I need to sleep on the damn roof, just say the word.”
That tugged something loose in my chest. I turned toward him, lips twitching.
“You’re not sleeping on the roof.”
“Good. I hate heights.”
I reached out and took his hand, pulling him just to the edge of the nest. “You can come in. Just you. No sharp smells. No questions.”
He smiled like I’d given him the moon. “Deal.”
As he crawled in beside me, careful not to disturb the folds I’d obsessively arranged, I felt his warmth settle behind me, his arm coming around my waist, hand instinctively splayed over the rise of our pup.
I tucked my head beneath his chin.
“You smell like home,” I murmured.
“Youaremy home,” he replied softly.
And there, in the fortress of fabric and love and instinct, I let myself breathe.
Let myself rest.
Let myselfbelong.
Epilogue
A Few Months Later
I’d never held anything so gently in my life.
One tiny hand gripped the edge of my shirt like it was the only thing tethering him to the world. His eyes were shut, lashes long and fluttering, little nose scrunched in a dream. His warmth soaked into my chest, anchoring me, calming me in a way no words ever could.
The fire crackled low behind us, casting soft light across the cabin walls. Our nest, now expanded to a ridiculous size thanks to Keiran’s over-indulgent alpha instincts, lay like a cottonycloud behind me. But I didn’t want to lay him down. Not yet. Not ever, maybe.
“He’s perfect,” Keiran whispered from the doorway, arms crossed, eyes glassy as he watched us.
I smirked down at the baby in my arms. “Of course he is. He’s half me.”
