Page 75 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
"No," he said roughly, "but you deserve to have your stuff in our home. Deserve to wake up tomorrow inourbed, not as a guest."
Our bed. The possessive pronouns were doing things to my omega instincts that should probably be illegal.
The drive to my rental house felt like traveling backwards through time. Three weeks ago, I'd been a different person. Scared, isolated, convinced I didn't deserve good things. Now I was sitting in Rhett's truck, surrounded by the scents of three alphas who loved me, going to collect the pieces of my old life so they could become part of something new.
"You okay?" Wes asked from beside me, because apparently my emotional state was written across my face.
"Just thinking about how different everything is," I said. "Three weeks ago, I thought I'd be living in that house for months. Maybe years. Now I can't wait to leave it behind."
"Change can be good," Elias said from his position behind the driver's seat. "Especially when you're moving toward something instead of away from it."
"What am I moving toward?" I asked, genuinely curious about his perspective.
"Home," he said simply. "Family. The life you were always meant to have."
The certainty in his voice made my chest tight. I was still learning to believe that I deserved those things, but hearing him say it with such conviction made it feel more possible.
It didn’t take long to pack me up. I hadn’t arrived with much of anything and it wasn’t like I’d been throwing money around trying to fill the house up with things. By the time we were finished Mrs. Henderson was waiting for us outside, her weathered face creased with what looked like genuine regret.
"Hate to see you go, dear," she said, accepting the keys from my slightly trembling fingers. "But I understand you've found yourself a proper situation."
The way she said it, with a knowing smile and a meaningful glance at the three alphas flanked around me like a protective wall, made it clear that Hollow Haven's gossip network was as efficient as ever.
"Yes ma'am," I said, surprised by how steady my voice was. "I have."
"Good," she said firmly. "You looked like you needed some taking care of when you first arrived. Glad to see you found folks willing to do it right."
As she drove away, I stood looking at the house that had been my refuge for such a short time. It had served its purpose, giving me space to heal and figure out what I wanted. But it had never felt like home. Just a waystation between the life I'd escaped and the life I was building.
"Ready?" Rhett asked, and I realized I'd been standing there for several minutes.
"More than ready," I said, and meant it.
"This is it?" Wes asked, looking at everything we'd loaded into the truck, looking at the small pile that represented my entire life.
"Sterling didn't like clutter," I said automatically, then caught myself. "I mean, I like to keep things simple."
"We'll fix that," Rhett said matter-of-factly. "House needs some personality anyway."
The casual assumption that we'd be acquiring things together, building a life that would accumulate the comfortable debris of shared days, made my omega instincts purr with satisfaction. Nesting wasn't just about soft things and safe spaces. It was about permanence. About belonging somewhere long enough to make it truly yours. And for the first time in as long as I couldremember the thought of nesting somewhere didn’t make me want to run. Or at least not run away from it. I was definitely ready to run straight for it with an open heart and three alphas at my side.
The drive to Wes's cabin felt like such a significant moment. Like I was being formally escorted to my new life by three alphas who took their responsibility seriously. My body was starting to respond to the significance of the moment, scent production increasing in a way that filled the truck cab with something that made all three of them sit a little straighter.
"Everything all right?" Elias asked, though his tone suggested he knew exactly what was happening.
"Just feeling a little warm," I said, which was true but incomplete. It wasn't just temperature. It was the way my skin felt more sensitive, the way every casual touch sent sparks through my nervous system.
"Heat symptoms," Wes said, not a question.
"Early ones," I admitted. "Nothing urgent yet, but definitely building."
"Good to know," Rhett said, adjusting the air conditioning. "Timeline helps with planning."
The casual way they discussed my approaching cycle, like it was just another logistical consideration rather than something shameful or inconvenient, still amazed me. Sterling had always made my heats feel like an imposition, something that disrupted his life rather than something we navigated together.
When we pulled up to Wes's cabin, I felt a shift in my chest that had nothing to do with biology and everything to do with recognition. This was home. Not just because Wes lived here, but because it felt right in a way my omega instincts understood on a cellular level.
The cabin sat in a clearing surrounded by old-growth forest, its log construction and metal roof designed to blend with thenatural environment. Solar panels and a small wind turbine spoke to Wes's commitment to sustainable living. Gardens in various stages of seasonal transition suggested someone who understood growing cycles and long-term planning.
