Page 118 of Storm
He approaches, setting the bundle down beside me. “Thought you might want options."
I reach for the items, spreading them out to examine each one. The hoodie immediately catches my attention—dark blue, soft from wear, the fabric saturated with Reed's scent. I press it to my face, inhaling deeply. It smells like him after a shower, clean but still undeniably Reed, with notes of that ocean breeze that always clings to him.
"This one," I decide, adding it to the nest, arranging it carefully next to Frankie's flannel and Fox's blanket. "Thank you."
Reed nods, his eyes tracking my movements as I continue building.
"Have you had any luck with Harley?" I ask, remembering his promise to try to contact her.
"I'm trying," he says, his expression darkening slightly. "It's complicated. They left the city, likely hiding out like we are. But I'll keep at it."
I pause in my work, concern for my friend washing over me. "What's happening in the city?" I ask, suddenly realizing how isolated we've been here, how little news we've received about the aftermath of the rebellion I accidentally triggered.
Reed's jaw tightens, but after a moment, he answers. "Changes. Big ones. The lottery system is being completely overhauled. The Omega House is under new management."
My heart leaps with hope. "Really? So I didn’t fuck up when I chose your pack?"
"No, the system needed a little…storm.” A hint of a smile crosses his face.
Reed's stormy eyes meet mine directly. "Your actions were the spark, whether you intended them to be or not. The rebellion was coming either way—you just gave it the push it needed."
“What happened exactly?” I saw how angry those beta-born alphas were. I hope they didn’t hurt anyone.
"Everything has changed, but for the good. You're safe here with us, and we'll make sure you stay that way. That's all you need to know.”
Impulsively, I rise from the nest and cross to him, wrapping my arms around his waist in a hug that seems to catch him by surprise. After a moment, his arms come around me, returning the embrace.
"Thank you," I murmur against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. "For everything."
His large hand comes up to stroke my wild curls, the touch gentle and surprisingly tender. "You're pack now," he says simply, as if that explains everything. And in a way, it does.
When Reed leaves, I return to my nest, incorporating his hoodie into the design with care, making sure it's positioned where I can easily reach it, where its scent will surround me during the most intense moments of my heat.
The door opens again without a knock, and Rook's familiar strawberries and cream scent washes over me. My heart lifts at his presence, at the way he strides directly to the nest without hesitation.
"Look at you," he says, admiration clear in his voice as he takes in the nearly completed nest. "Building a nest."
I smile up at him, reaching for his hand. "It’s weird, but also not weird."
Rook laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Who knew this is where we would be?" he says, settling beside me on the edge of the nest.
“You didn’t bring me anything.” I pout playfully.
He pulls off the faded band t-shirt he's wearing and offers it to me. "Fresh scent."
"Oh my god, are you stripping for me?" I tease, fanning myself dramatically.
He laughs as I take the still-warm garment and immediately bring it to my face. The powerful flood of his scent—strawberries and cream, but also sweat and something purely Rook. It sends a wave of contentment through me, followed by slick, that reminds me my heat is approaching.
"Perfect," I say, voice slightly muffled by the fabric. "This is going right in the center."
Rook watches as I place his shirt in the heart of the nest, arranging it carefully so it won't get buried under the other items. His dark eyes are soft with an emotion that makes my chest tighten with love.
"How are you feeling?" he asks. "Any more cramps?"
I shake my head. "Not too bad. But I can feel something building, like pressure under my skin. Fox says that's a normal part of the pre-heat."
Rook reaches out to touch my face, his calloused fingers gentle against my cheek. "You're going to be okay," he says, conviction in his voice. "We'll all be here for you."
