Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
LANI
The air doesn’t explode. It aligns.
Kai is the first to move – his hand sliding from my hip to cradle my jaw as he kisses me hard, not claiming, not competing, just sealing something that has been building for weeks. His mouth is warm and familiar and edged with that careless fire I’ve always pretended not to crave.
When he pulls back, Koa is already there.
His kiss is slower. Deeper. His hand settles at my waist, grounding, steadying the heat climbing beneath my skin. There’s no rush in him, only certainty, and it sinks into me like warmth through cold fingers.
Finn comes last.
He doesn’t grab. Doesn’t crowd.
He lifts my chin slightly and kisses me with quiet intention, the calm after the storm threaded through him even now. There is something reverent in it, something almost apologetic – but not fragile.
When he pulls back, Sol’s hand finds my throat gently and he kisses me last.
Not savage.
Not soft.
Deliberate.
It’s the kind of kiss that says this is happening.
When he withdraws, his gaze drops to my mouth, then to my eyes. The fierce determination in his sends my pulse skyrocketing.
“You’re going into heat,” he says quietly.
I huff a faint breath that almost feels like laughter. “Yeah,” I reply. “I know. Worst timing ever, right?”
Kai runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not full yet.”
“No,” I agree. “Just…prickling. Inconvenient though.”
And it is. A low, steady hum beneath my skin. My body feels warmer than it should, my senses sharpened to an almost electric awareness. Their scents wrap around me thickly, amplifying everything. But Sol just got shot. The timing is awful.
“Where do you want to do this?” Finn asks gently.
The bluntness doesn’t shock me.
It steadies me.
Kai gestures toward the door. “We have an omega suite built in at our place.”
I blink. “You what?”
Koa’s mouth twitches. “It’s not set up properly. We’ve never used it.”
“Our parents built it years ago,” Kai adds. “Just in case.”
“In case what?” I ask.
“In case the right omega ever showed up,” Finn says simply. “I think they were hoping we’d pack up and settle down.”
The words settle into me like weight.
“It’ll smell more like us,” Sol says quietly. “Walls. Floors. Everything.”
The idea sends another pulse of warmth low in my stomach.
I glance around Gran’s place. At the cracked plaster from the scuffle and the gun shots. At the sheet that was covering my father’s body earlier, discarded on the floor. At the history embedded in these walls.
“I don’t want to desecrate her house,” I say softly.
Kai snorts lightly. “That’s fair.”
“We’ll go next door,” Finn agrees immediately.
They move with efficient ease, slipping into motion as if this is simply the next necessary step.
Kai pauses by the freezer on the way out and yanks it open.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He pulls out a box of frozen cookies and tucks it under his arm.
“There’s enough sugar in these to fuel an orgy,” he says casually. “We’re going to need it.”
I stare at him. Koa sniggers. Even Sol’s mouth twitches faintly.
The normalcy of it – the humour threaded through intensity – steadies something inside me.
I hesitate at the doorway.
“My nest,” I say reluctantly. Suddenly I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave it. It may not be a proper nest but it’s mine. I built it and filled it with pieces of them and it feels wrong to abandon it now.
All four of them pause.
“You’ll have plenty more,” Kai says gently. “We have so much we can give you.”
“I know,” I reply. “But I want those items.”
There’s something important about that. Those shirts were sent when I was alone. When they didn’t know if I would forgive them. When they offered scent without pressure.
That’s important.
Koa doesn’t argue. He turns immediately and heads down the hallway and up the stairs, returning moments later with the layered clothes folded carefully in his arms.
He doesn’t disturb the order.
He doesn’t comment.
He just brings them to me.
Finn steps closer to Sol. “Lean on me.”
“I don’t need—”
“You do,” Finn says quietly. He doesn’t make a fuss, just says it in a way that allows Sol to keep his pride.
And this time Sol doesn’t argue.
We move together across the garden, the night air cool against my overheated skin. The fence that once felt like distance now feels symbolic as we cross it as a unit.
Inside their house, the scent is overwhelming in the best way. Salt and smoke and warmth soaked into walls and wood and fabric. It wraps around me immediately, and the low hum beneath my skin deepens.
Kai leads us down the hallway and opens a door at the end.
The omega suite.
It’s unfinished but intentional – larger windows looking out over the ocean, heavier curtains, thicker insulation in the walls. The space is open and empty except for a mattress pushed against one side and stacked blankets in the corner.
“It’s not set up,” Kai says, suddenly almost sheepish.
“It’s perfect,” I reply. I’ve never had a nest - never needed one - never even dreamed of one. This empty room and pile of blankets is…everything.
Tears well in my eyes. But the first real wave hits then – not overwhelming, not uncontrollable – just a sharper prickling beneath my skin. My pulse jumps. My body feels too tight, too aware.
And then something else rises.
Instinct.
I step into the centre of the room and look around.
“I need to nest,” I say quietly.
The admission feels enormous.
It’s something I would never have been allowed to do if my father had known I was an omega. Even remotely comforting, soft behaviours were never encouraged. Never permitted. If I had shown signs of being an omega, my father would have beat it out of me.
Kai exhales slowly.
Koa sets the clothes gently on the mattress and drags it into the centre of the room so that the view of the ocean is centre stage.
Finn closes the curtains halfway without being asked and the reduced glare of the sun’s light instantly soothes me a little. I don’t want to shut out the view entirely though.
Sol lowers himself carefully to sit against the wall, watching me with a gaze that is no longer feral, but intent. He still looks pained, but I know that the doctor gave him strong painkillers.
“Tell us what you need,” he says.
I swallow. “I don’t know yet.”
And that’s the truth.
But I step toward the mattress anyway, picking up Sol’s shirt first, then Koa’s flannel, layering them slowly across the bed. The room already smells like them, but I want it thicker. Closer.
Mine.
The prickling heat deepens. Not urgent yet. But coming. And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I have to fight…anything.
The room feels different the longer I spend in it.
I kneel on the mattress and begin layering the extra clothes the guys brought to me with careful deliberation, smoothing shirts flat at the base and spreading items on top.
I intersperse their items with blankets and the pillows they bring me from their beds.
Those are particularly strong with their scents and I love it.
Those to right near the top, where I know I’ll reach for them instinctively.
Finn’s t-shirt I press to my face first, inhaling deeply before placing it near the centre.
The scent in the room thickens immediately.
It makes my pulse skip.
But it’s not frantic.
It’s grounding.
“I need more,” I say without embarrassment.
All four of them react at once.
Kai grins first. “Oh, we’ve got more.”
Koa is already moving. “What kind?”
“Everything,” I reply honestly. “Pillows. Sheets. Even more things that smell like you.”
“Please,” I add as an afterthought.
There’s a flicker in Sol’s eyes at that – something possessive and satisfied – but he stays seated against the wall, one arm resting loosely over his bandaged side.
He doesn’t look too bad, all things considered, but I’m still worried about how all this is going to go with him being hurt.
“I’ve got it,” Koa says, already turning.
Kai jogs past him. “Race you.”
“This is not a competition,” Finn says dryly.
Kai throws a grin over his shoulder. “Everything’s a competition.”
Luckily, he winks at me so I know he’s joking.
I hear drawers opening down the hallway. Cupboard doors. The shuffle of even more bedding being dragged free. My heat pulses low and steady, a gentle tightening beneath my skin that grows warmer with each new wave of scent that filters back into the room.
Koa returns first, arms full of pillows stripped from his bed. He already gave me one of his pillows but now he has loads.
I chuckle. I didn’t really have him pegged as a fancy pillows kind of guy, but right now I’m grateful for it.
He doesn’t toss them. He places them carefully around the edges of the mattress, building structure. He doesn’t even seem to mind when I follow after him, readjusting everything just so.
Kai follows with an armful of hoodies and t-shirts, plus a blanket that very clearly came from his own room. “This one’s prime,” he says, tossing it toward me. “I haven’t washed it in days.”
“Charming,” Finn mutters, but there’s no edge in it.
I take the blanket anyway. It smells like salt and smoke and chocolate warmth, and when I drape it along one side of the nest, my body reacts instantly – a deeper breath, a subtle unclenching.
Perfect.
Finn disappears briefly and returns with two heavy duvets - one from Sol’s bed I think - and his own. He places another pillow near where my head will rest without comment.
Sol watches all of it with quiet intensity, eyes tracking every movement I make as I rearrange and adjust. He doesn’t seem as frustrated to be helping as I thought he would be. In fact, he seems pretty content to just watch me.
I don’t rush.
I tuck pillows upright to create walls. I layer blankets and clothing into thick, uneven ridges. I press my cheek against one section, then adjust it slightly, building instinctively until the shape feels right. Until it feels enclosed. Safe.
Mine.