Episode 26 Building Castles… And Nests
I’ve spent all day with Florence, running errands for her, prepping ingredients, hanging up string lights and fluffing pillows, doing every little thing that needs doing. She’s essentially made me her little bitch, and honestly I’ve never been happier.
Especially when she spent an inordinate amount of time arranging blankets, pillows and floor cushions until her blanket fort was just right. I don’t know if she even realized she was doing it, but it was suspiciously close to an omega creating a nest for her pack, and it made my heart ache.
Her brow furrows as she sits back on her heels, teeth sunk into her bottom lip, before she looks at me. “Do you like it?” She asks uncertainly. “Will they like it?”
I come to stand behind her, chest swelling with emotion, taking in the date she has planned for my pack, for us. Because I know she intends for me to stay, to be a part of it. None of the other omegas did that, not even Isadora, who knows I’m a part of the pack.
And it's been lonely as hell for the last few days.
Well, it was lonely, until Florence started asking me to help her with her date. Sunshine. She has a way of making me feel seen in a world that seems determined to relegate me to the shadows, shining her light on me, warming me with her attention.
She tilts her head back to watch my face as I look at the setup she’s created. “I think it's perfect, omega,” I tell her. “They’re going to love it.”
And they will… once they get over the shock of the very simple and low key date she’s planned for them. For us.
She’s been like this all day. Second guessing her instincts, waffling between being certain this is what we need and doubting every step she’s taken.
I’ve had to reassure her countless times, but I don’t mind in the slightest. I’ll do it a million more times tonight if needed.
But I think once the others get here and add their reassurances she’ll settle.
She frowns at the little kitchen, at the array of food already laid out on the island. “You don’t think I should have done something fancier?”
“Mac and cheese is Thayer’s late night food. Cheeseburgers are what Grieves eats when no one is watching. The cheesy bacon fries are Forsythe’s go to room service order. Believe me when I say they’ll love this.”
They will. I know it in my bones. The other omegas looked at the image my pack shows to the world and, even after all this time in close quarters with them, they think that is all they are. The polished, fancy, haute couture wearing, twelve course meal eating royals.
Only Florence has taken the time to look beyond that. To get to know who we are on a deeper level.
She’s filled this room with little homey touches, with things that will speak to each of my pack mates. A chess board set up by the window, a book of crosswords in the fort, the food, the dim lighting. Everything is so perfect it makes my heart ache.
It's far too easy to imagine this as our lives. Me and Ren getting things ready for the pack, making each night special whether it's staying in or going out. Lazy days lounging in bed. Taking Ren out and showing her off.
I want all of that with a ferventness that shocks me.
And I have to keep reminding myself that I can’t have her.
She’ll never be ours.
Never be mine.
Hell, I’ll probably never actually have an omega. Isadora has made it clear she doesn’t want me anywhere near her, regardless that I precede her in the pack. That the alphas actually love me, want me, and they barely tolerate her.
I fully expect Isadora and I to lead separate lives.
Which, if I’m honest, is more than alright with me. Or it would be if it didn’t also mean that I’ll be separate from the rest of my pack too.
“Piers?” I come back to myself, to Ren, to find her standing just in front of me, those bewitching eyes of hers watching me with concern. “Are you alright?”
I force my lips to smile and nod, running a knuckle down her cheek in reassurance. “Yes, I’m fine. Just contemplating.”
Her head tilts. “What are you contemplating?”
“You mostly.”
Her cheeks go pink again, and she snorts as she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t waste your time on that, on me. There’s not much to contemplate.”
Is that what she thinks? Is that what my pack has made her think? That she’s not worth our time? Their time?
Probably.
Definitely.
We have no one to blame but ourselves.
“I disagree, little bird.”
Ren harumphs, and scans the room again, checking that everything is ready. Outside the sky cracks and it starts pouring down rain. The first rainy day since we’ve been here, and it's for Ren’s date. If the weather channel is to be believed it's only going to get worse as the night progresses.
It's a good thing that what she planned didn’t require us to go outside. I know one of the omegas—Odette, I think—planned a sunset dinner on a yacht. If Ren had done something like that we’d be soaked in minutes.
Of course with her, it would probably be as romantic as hell. She’d just tip her head back and laugh as the rain fell, soaked her dress, made it cling to that gorgeous body of hers. Then she’d coax all of us out into it with her, make us dance and laugh and splash.
Yeah, I have a feeling doing anything with Florence would be a fucking delight.
Root canal.
Taxes.
CrossFit.
“You’re doing it again,” she huffs, bustling over to the fort to check the pillows for the fifteenth time. I fold my arms and watch her, something warm and soft taking over my chest as she drops to her knees and shifts a light blue velvet pillow a millimeter to the left.
It's the same blue as the Ashbourne tartan.
Every single thing in this room has been picked with care by the omega in front of me.
A knock on the door has her jerking, messing up the pillow placement as she does. She looks with wide eyes from the door to the pillows and back. Her omega no doubt demanding that she fix the ‘fort’ while she also knows she needs to let in whoever is on the other side of the door.
“I’ll answer it,” I reassure her. “You finish what you're doing.” What she’s doing is building a nest, but we’ve both been very careful not to call it that.
Another crack of thunder rolls through the room as I open the door, revealing a cameraman, a producer and Courtland, huddled under the small front porch.
Court frowns. “What are you doing here?”
Ren makes an outraged sound that I’m not sure my packmate can hear, but a second later she’s between the two of us, her little omega body pressed too damn close against my cock and her faint floral forward scent blooming around us. “I invited him,” she says glaring up at him.
Court’s eyes move from her to me and back. His lips quirk into a smirk, as he folds his arms over his chest. “We going somewhere we’ll need a personal assistant, pix?”
Ren scoffs and shakes her head, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Don’t start that with me.”
His brows jump. “Start what?”
“That flirty fuckboy thing that makes all the omega’s melt.” I choke on my tongue when she calls him a fuckboy and the cameraman snickers while the producer gasps like she’s offended. Florence doesn’t seem to notice though. “It won’t work on me.”
Court chuckles. “It won’t, hmm? I kind of thought it already did.”
She shakes her head solemnly. “Nope. I’m immune.”
His smirk only grows. “Interesting. Seeing as how not too long ago you were moa-” Her hand snaps up and slams over his mouth, stalling his words. His green eyes crease at the corners and I know he’s grinning against her palm.
“No,” she says firmly, like he’s a dog that’s just done something naughty. And from the flush I can see on her cheeks, maybe he did. “None of that, pretty boy.”
He curls his fingers around her wrist gently and pulls her away from his mouth, only to bring it right back and press a kiss to the center of her palm. “Sorry, Pix. I lose all sense of self when I’m with you. Forgive me?”
There’s a pause, a weightless moment where they just stare at each other and then she strokes her fingers down his cheek. He leans into her touch. “Yeah, pretty boy,” she murmurs, sounding sad. “I forgive you.”
I get the impression that she means for more than just this. That she’s forgiving him for not choosing her, for not being brave enough to pick love over duty.
Courtland must be feeling the same, because he stares at her hard, lips slightly parted, a look like grief passing over his face.
“Pix,” he breathes.
She sighs and shakes her head, those gorgeous eyes of hers flicking toward the camera and then back to Courtland.
“Sorry. Let’s try that again.” We both watch as she closes her eyes and shakes out her shoulders, making her messy bun bounce and a wave of the scent of her soap float on the air.
A smile curls her lips as she opens her eyes again, making that dimple in her left cheek pop.
“Hi, Court. It's lovely to see you.” She steps back, bumping into me, and I don’t move out of the way, loving the feel of her against me.
“Piers was just helping me get everything set up.” She leans forward slightly, pressing the round ass of hers into my lap, eyes sweeping up and down the path behind him. “Is the rest of the pack coming?”
Court’s still watching her with that grieving look on his face. “They’ll be along.”
She nods once, then reaches out to curl her fingers around his wrist, tugging him into her cabana.
Now I back up, letting him into the space I helped her set up.
Court comes in, the camera and the producer stay on the porch to catch the arrivals of my other pack mates.
They’ll leave once that’s done, a whole slew of crew having invaded Ren’s space earlier to set up cameras to capture the date without having additional people in the cramped space.
Court looks around, taking in the pillow fort in front of the huge TV I had brought in, the snacks, the drinks. In the little kitchen the meal Florence spent the better part of the afternoon cooking smells amazing.