28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mira
I wake to find Adrian smiling down at me, his gaze warm and gentle. For a moment, panic flutters in my chest. I fell asleep on him, imposed on his space… surely he'll be angry? But his scent remains steady, calming, wrapped around me like the soft blanket I don't remember being covered with.
“Hello, Little One,” he murmurs, and somehow everything is okay. His chest rumbles with that delicious purr that makes me want to melt. When I reach for the omega biology book, he simply hands it to me. “It's yours. Take it with you back to your nest if you want,” he says, as though sharing knowledge isn't a dangerous thing. As though I deserve to learn.
I do take it to my nest.
And he doesn’t say another word about it.
Days blur together after that moment, each one challenging everything I thought I knew about relationships between omegas and alphas. About this different view of the world I’m living in. Thankfully, I’m spared of any more heat spikes, although the strange heat still prickles under my skin. Memories of that morning in Adrian’s office chair, spread open for him, filter into my mind. The way he made sure my pain went away with his tongue and his hands. The way he demanded nothing in return for giving me an earth-shattering climax. I spend hours in my closet nest reading the book, absorbing information that contradicts everything I was taught. The pages speak of choice, of consent, of natural cycles, not punishment .
In fact, there’s nothing at all between the pages about punishment.
Sometimes I touch the pages of the book, as if I could absorb the truth of its words through my fingertips. The book describes heats as natural. Beautiful for both the omega and her pack. Not dirty, shameful episodes.
Somehow, I find myself drawn back to Adrian's office while he works on his laptop. I curl up in what I've come to think of as my chair, reading whichever book I’ve chosen for the day and occasionally asking quiet questions—questions he always answers. His dry smoke scent has become synonymous with safety and learning.
In the kitchen, Zane teaches me where everything is kept. His playful nature makes it easier and less frightening to learn new things when he teaches me a recipe. “Try this,” he'll say, offering tastes of whatever he's cooking. He never comments when I flinch, just adjusts his approach. When I finish my plate at dinner, there's always somehow a little more on my plate the next time, served so casually I almost don't notice the careful way they're helping me regain weight.
Cole remains a shadow at first, watching from doorways. His scent carries notes of guilt and longing that I don't understand, but slowly, like a cautious wild thing, he begins to join us. First at dinner, then breakfast. He doesn't speak much, but his presence is... important.
More bags appear in my room daily… soft clothes, blankets, pillows, although I’ve managed to make do with my own clothing so far.
No one mentions them, no one demands I use anything in them.
I have to resist tearing into their contents.
Every day I stay makes the day I must leave so much harder to imagine. Every day I’m here makes that one day I’ll leave harder to find.
One morning I stand in my bedroom, the nest doors beckoning with an irresistible urge. I cross the room and slowly open the doors, my hands trembling on the handles. I glance over my shoulder, sure that someone will come and tell me not to enter; that the space beyond is no place for an omega like me, but of course that doesn’t happen.
Adrian, Zane and even Cole won’t stop me.
They'd be overjoyed to find me here. I’m not stupid enough to think they wouldn’t. They are doing everything they can to make me want to stay.
I turn to the space inside, heart pounding, breath shaking, as my gaze roams over every square inch which is calm, inviting, and filled with natural light from the bay windows. I shouldn’t want things that aren’t mine. I’m an illegal omega. I know things that would put these three alphas in danger. If I’m caught here, they’ll be jailed. I’d be taken back to Haven and sold faster than my next heat spike, but the urge…oh, the urge to sink onto the mattress in this nest room. To roll around in all things soft and sensuous, drenched in their scents. I see all of us in here, naked, hard cocks, swelling knots, sweating, pleasuring, cumming…
A cream-colored blanket catches my eye, impossibly soft-looking where it peeks from a new bag lined with others along the bedroom wall. Just looking at it makes my fingers itch. The urge to take it, to lay it atop the bare mattress in the nest slams into me. I see it woven with the other soft things carefully folded in many other bags. Blankets and pillows arranged just so, creating a safe haven for all of us. The vision is so vivid it makes my chest ache… the way Adrian would smile, how Zane would tease, even Cole's quiet presence.. .
I jerk back from my thoughts like I've been burned, my heart racing.
Dangerous.
So dangerous to want.
I know better than to have a nest like that of my own.
The few times Lars caught me trying to arrange blankets resulted in the scar wrapped around my hip when he caned me. I shudder, pushing the memories away…and still the cream blanket calls to me. Before I can stop myself, I snatch it out of the bag and retreat to my closet nest. My fingers work it into the existing structure, weaving it between my worn blankets. The contrast between my old, threadbare blankets and this new luxury makes my throat tight.
Forbidden. So forbidden, but no one is coming to take me away. No one will tell me I can’t do this.
When I lie down, I can't help but let the soft ends brush against my cheeks. It's so different from my old scratchy blankets. This is plush and warm and… oh so right . A small sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan escapes my throat as I press into it, a sound I didn't even know I could make. For just a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to build something real. Something permanent. A proper nest in that sunken room, filled with my alphas’ scents and their presence.
Why do their scents make me feel like this, and… fuck ! I called them my alphas.
I curl tighter around the cream blanket. When did that happen? When did they become mates my omega recognizes as mine?
I can't want them. Can't dream of belonging. Dreams are dangerous things. They make you weak and vulnerable. Make you stay when you should run.
But Gods, I want to give in.
I have to be realistic. They can't be mine. The secrets I carry would put them in danger, and I won't be responsible for more death. More pain.
But a treacherous voice whispers: What if you don't have to run? What if they could protect you? What if.. .
I press harder into the blanket, trying to silence the dangerous thoughts. I can’t fall into the trap of being an omega. I can't let myself hope. Hope is more dangerous than anything Haven ever did to me.
Somehow I drift off. A soft knock pulls me from sleep, and I reluctantly untangle from the cream blanket.
“Mira?”
I emerge from the closet, smoothing my old clothes. Zane's scent reaches me before I open the bedroom door, making my heart race before I even see him. He stands there, practically vibrating with excitement, and my heart does that stupid flutter it always does when he smiles at me like that. His presence fills the doorway without being threatening, somehow managing to be both powerful and playful.
My skin tingles, warmth pools in my belly, and my scent sweetens. I have to fight the urge to bare my neck, to seek his touch. My fingers twist in the hem of my sweater to keep from reaching for him. It's getting harder to resist these instincts around them, harder to maintain the distance I need to keep us all safe. This daily growing want for them as mine fills me with terror.
He stays in the doorway, respecting the invisible boundary they've all maintained since I arrived. But even from there, his presence fills my senses. The way his light hair falls across his forehead makes my fingers itch to brush it back. The playful light in his sea-blue eyes draws an answering smile from me before I can stop it. There's something so infectious about his joy, something that makes me want to let down my guard.
His expression shifts when I smile, something raw and wanting crossing his expression. His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring as he catches my sweetened scent. “You're so beautiful.” The longing in his voice makes my chest ache. His own scent deepens with desire, and a warm shiver steals through me.
I drop my eyes, guilt churning in my stomach. I understand how he feels… how they all feel. Even Cole. I've seen the way Adrian watches me with those intense eyes, how Cole's distance can't hide his desire. Despite the scars crisscrossing my body, they want me. Want to claim me, to make me truly theirs. The worst part is how much I want that too. How right it is when they're near, and how empty I feel when they're gone.
“Did you want me for something?” I try to ignore how my body leans toward him, seeking his warmth.
He collects himself, though that spark of excitement returns to his eyes. His smile softens into something that makes my heart trip over itself. “I have a surprise for you.” He grins, and despite everything, curiosity blooms.
“A surprise? For me? What is it?” The only surprises I can remember were unpleasant, but Zane’s enthusiasm is contagious, making me feel lighter. Warmth flutters in my chest at his smile. Maybe I’ll like this surprise.
He laughs, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between us. “It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now, would it?”
I step toward the door, but he holds up a hand. “You'll need a coat. It's cold outside.” There's an underlying current of protectiveness in his tone that makes my skin tingle.
“Outside?” The last thing I want to do is show my face in public.
“Don’t worry. This is private. Just you and me,” Zane says.
I turn toward the closet where my old coat hangs, threadbare and patched, but serviceable. His scent shifts slightly, a note of something like sadness threading through.
“Will you…use the new one I got you? You'll need to be properly warm for this.” The care in his voice makes my throat tight. How can he make even this simple thing so intimate?
“You bought me a new coat?” Accepting anything from them is a bad idea, but the thought of actually being warm while going outside sounds too good.
“May I come in and get it for you?” he asks, and my heart skips at how carefully he phrases it. Always asking, never demanding. Never pushing past the boundaries I've set, even when I can smell how much he wants to be closer.
“Okay,” I whisper. He enters the room with measured steps and goes straight to a bag I haven't dared open yet, pulling out something that leaves me stunned. He doesn't mention that I haven’t opened any of the other bags, either, which helps more than anything to ease the tightness in my chest.
Everything he does eases the tightness all throughout my body.
The coat is gorgeous, a deep emerald, and long enough to fall to my knees with a fur-lined hood and quilted interior. It's the kind of coat I've only seen for sale in expensive shop windows, not in thrift shops. The kind I never dreamed of owning.
“I...” My voice catches as he holds it out but the hope in his eyes makes it impossible to refuse. His scent envelops me, warm and inviting, filled with an eagerness to provide that makes my omega want to roll in it.
“Try it on,” he encourages softly. “Let me see if it fits.”
Zane holds the coat open. As I slide my arms into the sleeves, I have to suppress a shiver when his fingers brush my shoulders, adjusting the collar. The fur is impossibly soft against my skin, warmer than anything I've ever worn.
I turn around, and his eyes darken, pupils dilating as they sweep over me. But more than the desire in his gaze is something deeper, something that shatters the walls I’ve built.
“I knew emerald was the right color,” he says, his voice rougher than usual. One hand reaches up as if to touch my face before dropping back to his side. “Baby Girl.” The longing in his voice makes me tremble. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”
I have to look away from the naked emotion on his face. It's overwhelming and too real, too close to everything I shouldn’t allow myself to have. Yet, I can't deny that accepting the coat crosses a line from which I can’t return.