Chapter 30
thirty
I’ve imagined this moment.
When I was teenager, smitten with a girl I thought I could never have, I pictured what I’d do if I had the kind of freedom most people are born with.
How I’d whisk Ivy away from Maytown and bring her to the palace. Parade her around for everyone to see what a gorgeous, good-hearted person she was. And then give her this; the suite reserved for my princess.
Even while we were apart, I held on to that fantasy. Had dreams about it. Added it to the pile of regrets I carried between my shoulder blades.
Last week, when we discovered Ivy’s true designation and she agreed to give us a chance to prove ourselves to her, those fantasies became inevitabilities.
I pictured the moment over and over. Bast flinging the creamy double doors open. Revealing the grand, airy space, all trimmed in thin white silks.
There’s a lot to see in here. An entire wall of gleaming stained-glass windows in every shade of blue and pink imaginable. The view of the garden maze, our lake, and our stables. A two-story-high ceiling, domed and intricately carved into hundreds of frescos and fleurs-de-lis, all delicately painted in soft shades of sky and lined with gold luster.
The rest of the suite matches those colors. An enormous white-stone fireplace off to the left of the oval floor, framed by tufted light blue sofas. Gold-veined marble floors. Powder-blue window treatments.
And that’s just the beginning.
To the right, tucked slightly away from the windows and their sunset vista, there’s a large circular platform. Ivy’s new bed—with plenty of room for the rest of us—stands at its center. Partially shrouded by an ivory silk canopy… hanging from a second platform that floats several meters above the first.
The nest.
Whoever prepared the suite for our arrival chose to leave it open. Usually, the thick velvet curtains are closed, hiding the enormous mattress built into the cylindrical space. Shining glass encloses the smaller room—designed to let light in, if desired, or not, when the curtains are drawn.
I’ve been up there once or twice, inspecting how safe it is. But the floating nest is every bit as solid as the two curved staircases bracketing the bed below it. All of it was carved from the same solid marble—one giant piece that could withstand an army, let alone an omega’s heat.
I suppose it’s rather pretty, too.
The four of us stand on the threshold, silently staring into the suite. Bast shifts, clearly nervous Ivy doesn’t like it. Dair is too busy watching her to betray his own anxiety, but his scent sours as seconds tick past.
Explanations and reassurances bubble to my lips. I open my mouth to tell her we can change the whole room. Or choose a different one. Or, hell, build a new one.
In all my years of imagining this moment, I thought I’d pictured every possibility. But Ivy turns her head slowly for a final time, blue eyes climbing over every detail they touch. Then she looks away…
And buries her face in my chest.
Baffled, I close my arms around her and start to purr. “Darling? Is something wrong?”
She trembles slightly, shaking her head. “The room is beautiful, Ash,” she whispers. “But it doesn’t smell like you.”
Her nervous gaze flits to my packmates. “ Any of you.”
Awe echoes between the three of us. My heart seizes, spasming behind the secret tattoo I kept covered for years. An ache blooms at the base of my throat.
Any other person might be enamored with the luxury of this room. But not Ivy.
She doesn’t really care about any of this. She cares about us .
None of us know what to do with that. Until Bast blinks once. Twice. “Well, fuck, gorgeous. Let’s fix that right now.”
He walks into the middle of the room and undresses, flinging pieces of clothing in every direction until Ivy’s uncertainty cracks into a tiny smile.
Dair loves it. I’ve never seen him look at anyone with the soft, warm regard he has for the little curve of her lips.
He doesn’t bother walking into the room before kicking his shoes off and following Bast’s lead. His black suit pants go flying onto the sofa. His dress shirt to the plush padded bench at the foot of the bed.
The bastard even takes off his underwear—paying no mind to how Ivy’s eyes widen and snag on his half-hard dick while he leverages the waistband like a slingshot and shoots the black briefs right at the chandelier. They catch on one of the cut crystals and dangle there.
Ivy’s giggle makes it impossible to feel annoyed. The sound is shy and shaky, but bright and bubbly too. I’ll do anything to hear more, so I hug her closer for one last precious moment… and release her with a sigh, rolling my eyes while I start to strip.
It’s a good thing I had all the security cameras taken out of here.
Bast’s bare arm accidentally jostles mine. He flips me a quick cringe, and I can hear his unspoken apology.
Sorry, bro.
It’s not his fault, though. Ivy wanted our scents in her space… and now her Omega wants them in our nest.
If that means the three of us have to stand nude on the platform next to her sacred space… well, here we are.
Dair shifts on his feet. I know being naked doesn’t bother him, so I assume his restlessness has more to do with the way Ivy’s been standing in the center of the mattress for close to three minutes. Hesitating.
Over the last week, we’ve collected our worn clothes for exactly this reason. I had them placed in a hamper and brought to the top of the stairs when we arrived. The staff knows better than to enter the nest, though, so Bast dragged the laundry into the rounded glass-and-gilt room.
At first, Ivy picked through them happily. But within minutes, she seemed to get overwhelmed.
I hate that I can’t do anything for her. Part of me wants to pluck our shirts out of her frozen fists and reassure her that she doesn’t need to build anything for us straight away.
I did a lot of research on this, though. If we storm into the nest without being invited and take over, we risk her Omega rejecting the space entirely. Or, worse, demoralizing her to the point where it won’t be possible for Ivy to build a proper nest for her heat.
Bast starts to move but reins himself in. I shoot him a firm, quelling look, my pack leader command clear in the expression.
No.
We wait for Ivy.
My darling blinks an uncertain glance over her shoulder. Her scent darkens, singeing. “I?—”
We all hold our breath over purrs. She swallows. “I think I need some help.”
Relieve slackens my posture. I step forward, gesturing. “Can we come in?”
She startles and I realize— she didn’t know she needed to invite us . Sadness mingles with the anticipation pinching my lungs.
I can tell she senses it in my scent. Her head falls forward slightly, but she nods. “Please.”
We practically trip over each other to get to her. The shame doesn’t fade from her scent, but at least her body seems to unwind a bit as soon as we all touch her.
Bast snuggles into her back while Dair twines her fingers in his. Her free hand finds mine, squeezing weakly as she skirts her crystal eyes to mine. “Where do I start?”
The question throws us all. We catch each others’ gazes, confirming that, no, none of us have the first clue how to build an omega’s nest.
That’s the thing, though—her Omega does know. She just needs to get better at reaching that new piece of herself.
An idea winds into my mind. I step into her front, framing her face in my hands and lowering my lips to hers. “Let’s start here,” I murmur.