Page 76 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
"It's perfect," I said, meaning it completely.
"It's ours," Wes corrected gently, and the word sent warm shivers down my spine.
Unloading went even faster than packing had, it helped that there were four of us and only enough boxes for us to carry one each. The cabin's interior was exactly what I'd expected from Wes. Clean lines, natural materials, everything serving a purpose while still being beautiful. But it was also clearly a space designed for one person.
"Where should we put your camera equipment?" Rhett asked, hefting my professional gear.
I looked around the living area, trying to imagine where my tripod and lighting equipment would fit without overwhelming the carefully balanced space. Everything felt too presumptuous, too permanent.
"The spare bedroom?" I suggested tentatively. "If that's okay. I could set up a little studio space there."
"More than okay," Wes said immediately. "We should think about adding on a darkroom for you in the new addition."
The way he said it, like my creativity was something he'd been planning for, made my heart clench. When had anyone ever cared about my dreams enough to make space for them?
"It's what you deserve," Rhett said firmly. "What you've always deserved."
"We should definitely figure out a proper studio space," Elias continued. "The spare room is fine for now, but if you're going to be working professionally..."
"There’s an old barn," Wes said suddenly. "It’s a little further set back behind the house next to a clearing that used to be apaddock. We could convert part of it. Natural light, plenty of space, close enough to the house for convenience but separate enough for focus."
They were talking about renovating outbuildings to support my career like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like my success was as important to them as their own.
"You don't have to do that," I said softly.
"We want to," Wes said simply. "We want you to have everything you need to be happy."
The afternoon dissolved into a blur of domestic activity that felt surprisingly natural. We arranged and rearranged furniture until the living space felt like it belonged to all of us. My books found homes on Wes's shelves. My few decorative items integrated seamlessly with his more utilitarian aesthetic.
But it was setting up the nest room that felt most significant.
Wes's master bedroom was beautiful in its simplicity, with large windows overlooking the forest and a larger than average king-size bed that would easily accommodate all four of us. But the attached walk-in closet had been transformed into something magical.
"When did you do this?" I asked, staring at the space that had clearly been designed specifically for omega nesting.
"This week," Elias admitted. "We wanted you to have options. A private space that was completely yours if you needed it, but connected to the main bedroom so you wouldn't feel isolated."
The closet had been fitted with soft lighting, temperature controls, and built-in storage for blankets and comfort items. Hooks and shelves allowed for easy rearrangement of fabric walls for privacy adjustment. A small refrigerator and electric kettle meant I wouldn't have to leave the space for basic needs.
"It's incredible," I said, running my hands over the smooth wood surfaces. "But how did you know what to include?"
"Research," Wes said simply. "Lots of research."
"And consultation with some omega friends," Elias added. "Kit gave us a very detailed list of features that make nest rooms feel safe versus claustrophobic."
They'd planned this. While I was still figuring out how to ask for what I needed, they'd been thinking three steps ahead, anticipating needs I hadn't even voiced yet.
"There's something else," Rhett said, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He pulled three t-shirts from a bag I hadn't noticed. "We thought... for comfort. During heat. If you want them."
The shirts smelled like each of them. Rhett's carried the scent of motor oil and sawdust and something fundamentally protective. Wes's smelled like pine and fresh air and steady calm. Elias's was layered with herbs and oils and gentle strength.
"You want me to have your scent," I said, understanding the significance.
"Only if you want it," Elias said quickly. "No pressure. Just options."
I took the shirts, holding them against my chest and breathing in the combined scent of my pack. The omega in me practically purred with satisfaction. This was what safety smelled like. What belonging felt like.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For all of this. For thinking of everything I didn't even know I needed."
