Page 116 of Storm
"Aww, you say the sweetest things." I place a hand over my heart, batting my eyelashes dramatically.
Jonathan hesitates by the edge of the omega mattress, seeming uncertain whether to stay or go. It's so unlike his usual confident demeanor that I can't help but find it endearing.
"You can stay," I offer. "Watch me build, if you want."
He nods, settling into the armchair by the window as I begin sorting through the blankets. My omega instincts guide me, helping me determine which blankets should form the base, which should line the sides, and which should be saved for the top layer. It's strange how natural it feels, despite never having done this before.
"I've never actually seen an omega build a nest," Jonathan admits, his voice softer than usual. "Fox usually does his in private."
"Is it weird?" I ask, pausing with a blue blanket in hand. "Watching me do this?"
"No," he says quickly. "It's... fascinating. Beautiful, actually."
A blush creeps across my cheeks at his words. I turn back to my work, creating a circular shape with the base blankets, then beginning to layer the sides. The work is calming, satisfying something deep within me that I didn't know needed satisfying.
"Can I ask you something?" Jonathan says after a few minutes of companionable silence.
I glance over my shoulder at him. "Sure."
He clears his throat, looking oddly uncomfortable. "I wanted to know if you'd like any protection. For your heat."
The question catches me off guard and I turn to fully face him, the blanket I was arranging still in my hands.
"Protection?" I repeat, my mind suddenly racing.
"Yes," he says carefully. "Birth control. I can arrange for whatever you need."
The realization hits me like a physical blow. I haven't used any protection—not with Rook, not with Reed, not with Fox and Alex in the media room. Not once. It hadn't even crossed my mind.
"Oh my god," I whisper, dropping the blanket. "I haven't been using anything. At all." My hand flies to my mouth as panic rises in my chest. "How could I be so stupid? I didn't even think about it!"
Jonathan moves quickly to my side, his hand gentle on my shoulder. "Storm, it's okay. You're not stupid."
"But that's so basic!" I exclaim, my voice rising with panic. "Protection should have been the first thing I thought about! I've been with Reed, and Rook, and Fox, and I just—I didn't even consider—" I break off, mortified by my oversight.
"Storm," Jonathan says firmly, bringing my spiraling thoughts to a halt. "Look at me."
I reluctantly meet his gaze, expecting judgment, but finding only concern. My hands tremble slightly as I resume my nest building, my mind racing.
"I could be pregnant right now," I whisper, the thought both terrifying and strangely thrilling.
"You could," he agrees gently. "Especially during your heat. That's when you'll be most fertile."
I sit back on my heels, staring at the half-built nest as reality crashes over me. "Kids were never on my radar," I say, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions his question has triggered. "But here, in this home, with all of you..." I trail off, uncertain how to finish that thought.
"Storm," he says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, "we are all so grateful to have you as part of our pack. Whatever you want—or don't want—we will support. There's no pressure, no expectations."
I meet his eyes, searching for any sign that he's just saying what he thinks I want to hear. But all I find is sincerity, a rare vulnerability that makes my chest ache.
"Can I think about it?" I ask. "I mean, I know I could get pregnant anytime, but like you said, during heat is when I'll be most fertile. I just... I need to process this."
"Of course," Jonathan says immediately. "Take all the time you need. Just know that we're here for you, whatever you decide."
On impulse, I reach for his hand, lacing my fingers with his. His hand is warm, strong, his fingers closing around mine with a gentle pressure that grounds me. "Thank you," I whisper. "For understanding and not being an asshole."
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I'm not the asshole you thought I was?"
I laugh, the sound breaking the tension. "No, you're not. Though you still have your moments."
