Chapter 42 – Bells
BELLS
The nest is way fucking better this time.
Not because of the blankets or the pillows or the mattresses dragged from three different rooms and shoved together in the living room.
Not even because of the fairy lights Phoenix strung along the bookshelf at my request or the fact that Raf's secret candy stash has been raided so thoroughly we had to place a frankly embarrassing order for more snacks, and the overloaded bags tore open when the delivery guy carried them into the elevator lobby.
Last time, I built a nest and swore up and down it wasn't one.
I piled mattresses and arranged pillows and created a sprawling padded island in the middle of Rex's living room and said slumber party with a straight face while three alphas nodded along.
Because the alternative was acknowledging what we all knew, and none of us were ready to officially name.
Tonight, the nest is better because there's no pretending.
Rex isn't even wearing a mask. Or a hoodie.
He has a black t-shirt and sweats, and his full face is bare beneath the warm fairy lights. His dyed dark hair is still falling across his scars, and I'm sure that's on purpose, but still.
He's not hiding tonight.
And neither am I.
I'm in one of Phoenix's t-shirts, which is a dress on me, and nothing else. No binder. No collar. No suppressants masking my scent, because I haven't refilled the prescription and don't intend to.
My scent fills the room.
Phoenix noticed first. His nostrils flared the second I walked in and he made a sound in his chest that was more vibration than voice. Raf's reaction was subtler, a slow exhale, his dark eyes tracking me across the room.
Rex just breathed in and closed his working eye.
Now we're here.
The four of us in a nest that is unambiguously, unapologetically a fucking nest, and my hand is on my throat, feeling the crescent scar beneath my fingers.
It's cooler than it's been in years. The inflammation from the bond severance has already faded to a faint pink, the raised tissue settling into something that looks less like a wound and more like… well, what it is.
A scar.
Just a scar.
I've been carrying it for so long, it's been the axis around which my entire life has rotated.
Every decision. Every disguise. Every lie, every mask, every inch of fucking distance I put between myself and every other human being on the planet.
All of it traced back to this scar, to the night an alpha I didn't choose put his teeth in my neck and tried to make me his forever.
I look at Phoenix, cross-legged on the mattress to my left, his blond hair loose around his shoulders, his blue eyes steady.
Raf, sprawled on my right with his head propped on his hand, watching me.
And Rex, leaning against the wall, his face turned slightly but bare all the same, watching me with a softness I've never even dreamed he was capable of.
Terrified, but soft.
"I want to be marked," I say quietly. "Not someday. Tonight."
Phoenix and Raf stop breathing.
Rex doesn't visibly react. "You're sure."
I pull Phoenix's shirt over my head and drop it on the blankets. The cool air hits my bare skin and I don't cover myself. Don't cross my arms, don't hunch, don't do any of the things I've done for years to minimize.
I tilt my chin up, baring the crescent scar in the twinkling light. "I want your marks to cover this. You're my pack."
Phoenix moves first.
His hand cups my jaw and tilts my face toward him. His warm mouth finds mine as his other hand slides down my bare side, fingertips tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hip, and my skin erupts in goosebumps everywhere he touches.
Raf's mouth lands on my shoulder from behind.
Open and hot and deliberate, his lips dragging across the curve of muscle between my neck and shoulder, his teeth scraping against my scar without biting. His hand spreads flat across my stomach, pulling me back against his chest, and I feel him hard against my ass through his sweatpants.
I'm caught between them and my brain is already shorting out.
Phoenix's kiss deepens and Raf's hand slides lower and lower across my belly and I make a sound into Phoenix's mouth that I'd be embarrassed about if I had any shame left, which I don't, because shame is a luxury for people who haven't been through the shit we've been through.
Rex hasn't moved from the wall.
I break the kiss with Phoenix and look at him over my shoulder.
He's watching, but his face is still carefully turned. Even at an angle, his gaze is so intense, I can practically feel it prickling on my skin.
"Get over here," I say.
His jaw works. The exposed tendons on the scarred side flex and shift.
"Rex."
He pushes off the wall and rises to his full height.
Three steps and he's at the edge of the nest, looking down at the three of us like he's standing at the edge of a cliff trying to calculate the physics of the fall.
I reach up and grab the front of his shirt and pull.
He comes down hard, one knee sinking into the mattress, and I drag him the rest of the way until his mouth crashes against mine.
The kiss is different from Phoenix's. Rougher and even more desperate.
The scar tissue on the right side of his lips drags against the corner of my mouth and he starts to pull away with a low, broken exhale, so I fist his hair and hold him there.
He growls at me. The sound vibrates through the kiss and into my whole chest.
Raf's fingers find the waistband of my underwear and pull them down my thighs and I lift my hips to help, and then I'm naked between three clothed alphas and the imbalance of it makes my pulse hammer.
"Off," I say against Rex's mouth. "All of you. Clothes off. Now."
They comply.
Phoenix's shirt goes over his head, revealing his gloriously broad, thick torso.
Raf's clothes hit the floor fast enough I think he might have torn them.
Rex is slower. His fingers hesitate at the hem of his t-shirt before he pulls it over his head, the burn scars webbing across his torso shiny in the warm fairy light.
My hand finds his chest. The scarred skin is tight and smooth under my palm, broken up by the tattoos I've spotted before but have never really gotten a close look at.
They're mostly abstract. Triangles and other shapes breaking off from the scars so the scars almost look like they were inked themselves.
Now that I'm looking, they're stick-and-poke, and none of them seem like they were done by a professional.
I think he did these himself.
Even the Roman numerals stretched across his lower left rib, which I realize immediately is his birthday.
Nash's birthday.
The one they shared.
"Gorgeous," I murmur.
"Shut up," he mutters, but his eye is soft.
Phoenix pulls me into his lap. My back against his chest, his cock pressing against the curve of my ass, and his hands come around to cup my breasts with a rumbling purr. His thumbs brush my nipples and I arch back against him, and his groan rumbles through his rib cage and into my spine.
Raf kneels in front of me. He leans in and kisses a line down the center of my chest, between my breasts where the binder has left fading marks on my skin.
His mouth trails lower. And lower. His hands grip my thighs and spread them apart over Phoenix's lap and his tongue finds me. My hand flies to his hair and I gasp so hard my smoke-damaged lungs protest.
"Fuck—"
Raf hums against me. The vibration makes my thighs shake.
Phoenix's hands tighten on my breasts. His mouth is on my neck, on the scarred side, his lips pressing careful, deliberate kisses along the crescent mark. The tissue is tender and the contact sends complicated signals through my nervous system.
Pain braided with pleasure braided with… holy fuck, that feels good.
Rex sits beside us. His hand finds my thigh, just above Raf's grip, and he looks at me like he has no fucking clue what to do here.
He's fucking adorable.
And he'd kill me if he knew I think that. The thought of how pissed he'd be almost makes me giggle. I bite it back somehow, hoping he thinks I'm just enjoying myself.
"Come here," I say, reaching for him.
He leans in, but mostly because I'm tugging on him and he's letting me. I pull his mouth to mine and he kisses me carefully while Raf takes me apart with his tongue and Phoenix works my breasts.
My first orgasm builds fast and hits even harder. Raf doesn't stop. He works me through it, his grip tightening on my thighs when I cry out and giggle and yelp and squirm because I'm too sensitive to not thrash, and Phoenix holds me steady against his chest while my body convulses.
"Again," Raf says against me.
"I can't," I protest half-heartedly.
"Again."
He gets it out of me twice more before I shove his head away with both hands, gasping, trembling, laughing hysterically with my vision going blurry and spotty.
Phoenix lifts me off his lap and lays me down on the mattress. The nest is warm and soft against my liquid bones.
"I want all of you," I say breathlessly. “Now.”
Phoenix looks at Raf.
Raf looks at Rex.
Rex looks at me.
"Who first?" Phoenix asks quietly.
"Doesn't matter. You guys figure it out."
Phoenix settles between my thighs and slides into me slowly, his forehead pressing against mine, his eyes half-closed. He's big—they're all big, but what the fucking fuck, Phoenix—and the stretch makes me hiss and grab his shoulders.
"Okay?" he breathes.
I'm panting. "Just knot me, Phoenix."
He starts moving, long, deep thrusts that have me writhing again immediately, and I wrap my legs around as much of his thick waist as I can and pull him deeper. His hand cradles the back of my skull and his mouth finds mine again.