Chapter 37 #2
Reid watched the entire time, his body tense, his eyes tracking every movement Nolan made. The possessive Alpha instinct was still simmering, I could tell, even with the rut broken. Having another Alpha touch his mate — even in a medical capacity — was clearly testing his control.
"No serious injuries." Nolan finally announced, stepping back, his expression satisfied, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "The bruises will heal in a few days. Nothing's torn, nothing's broken. You're both in excellent health, all things considered."
"Good." Reid's hand tightened on my shoulder, his voice rough with relief.
"There's one more thing." Nolan's expression shifted, became more thoughtful, his scent taking on notes of curiosity.
"Aster, your body responded to the rut. Not a full heat — your system is still recovering from the suppressants — but there were hormonal changes.
Your scent shifted. Your body prepared."
I felt Reid go still behind me, his hand frozen on my shoulder.
"What does that mean?" My voice came out smaller than I intended, uncertainty creeping in.
"It means your body is healing." Nolan's voice was gentle, reassuring, his eyes warm. "The suppressants did damage, but you're recovering. Eventually, your heats will return. But it'll take time. Months, probably. Your body needs to remember how to do this on its own."
I nodded, processing. Part of me was relieved — no heat to deal with on top of everything else. But another part felt a strange loss, like my body had reached for something and come up empty.
"We'll monitor it." Nolan continued, packing his medical bag, his movements calm and efficient. "No rush. Your body will tell us when it's ready."
He paused at the door, looking back at us with an expression that was no longer clinical. Warmer. More personal.
"You did well." His voice was soft, his eyes moving between us with something like pride. "Both of you. The rut was intense, and you handled it. Together. That's... that's not nothing."
Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving us alone in the sudden silence. I felt strange. Restless. The bath had helped, Nolan's examination had reassured, but something was building under my skin. Something I couldn't name but couldn't ignore.
I stood abruptly, the movement surprising both of us, and started pacing. My hands wouldn't stay still — pulling at the hem of Reid's shirt, running through my hair, reaching for things on the nightstand and putting them down again.
"Aster?" Reid's voice was concerned, his brow furrowing as he watched me pace, his body still on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know." The words came out frustrated, my voice tight with something I couldn't identify. "I feel... I need... I don't know what I need. Something's wrong. Something's missing."
I grabbed a pillow from the bed, clutched it to my chest, then dropped it and grabbed another. Wrong. They were all wrong. They didn't smell right, didn't feel right, didn't—
"Oh." Reid's voice was soft with sudden understanding, his body relaxing even as his eyes went bright with something that looked like wonder. "You need to nest."
I stopped pacing, the word hitting me like a physical blow. Nest. Yes. That was it. That was exactly it.
"I need—" I looked around the room wildly, my heart racing, my instincts screaming at me to build, to arrange, to create something safe and warm and mine. "I need blankets. And pillows. And — and your shirt. The one you wore yesterday. I need—"
"Okay." Reid was on his feet, his hands on my shoulders, his voice calm and steady, grounding me. "Okay. I'll get whatever you need. Tell me what to do."
"I don't know." The admission came out helpless, tears suddenly pricking at my eyes, frustration and confusion swirling in my chest. "I don't know how to do this. I've never — the suppressants always stopped it. I've never actually—"
"It's okay." He pulled me into his arms, his purr rumbling to life, the sound soothing something jagged inside me. "It's instinct. It'll come. Just... start with what feels right. I'll help."
I pulled back, my eyes scanning the room again, and this time the chaos in my head started to organize itself. The bed. That was where I needed to start. But it was wrong — the sheets smelled like laundry detergent, not pack. Not home.
I ripped the sheets off. Reid watched without comment as I tore the bed apart, pulling off blankets and pillows and tossing them aside. Not right. None of it was right.
"I need—" I turned to him, my voice urgent. "I need things that smell like pack. Like all of you. Clothes you've worn, blankets you've slept with, anything that has your scents on it."
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by something soft and warm.
"I'll get Kol and the others." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his voice gentle. "They'll want to help. They'll want to be part of this."
He disappeared through the door, and I heard him calling for the others, his voice carrying down the hall. I turned back to the destroyed bed, my hands shaking, my instincts screaming at me to fix it, to build, to create something that would keep my pack safe and warm and together.
Kol arrived first, his arms full of blankets, his scent bright with sunshine and excitement.
"Nesting!" His voice was warm, delighted, his eyes sparkling as he took in the chaos of the room. "I've always wanted to see someone nest. What can I do? How can I help?"
He held out a pillow — his pillow, I could tell from the scent — and I reached for it instinctively.
Then stopped.
A growl rumbled up from my chest, low and warning, and I snatched my hand back like the pillow had burned me. Kol froze, his expression shifting from excitement to confusion.
"Aster?" His voice was careful, uncertain, his scent dimming with concern.
"I'm sorry." The words came out choked, horror flooding through me at the sound I'd made, at the feral instinct that had reared up without warning. "I don't know why I — I didn't mean to—"
"Hey, hey." Kol set the pillow down on the dresser, his movements slow and deliberate, his voice softening to something soothing. "It's okay. It's instinct. You're not supposed to accept things directly during nesting, right? You need to gather them yourself."
I stared at him, shame and confusion warring in my chest.
"How do you know that?" My voice came out small, bewildered.
"I read about it." He shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips, his scent warming again.
"When we first realized what you were, I did research.
Wanted to understand. Nesting is... it's sacred.
Personal. You need to build it yourself, with items you choose.
We can offer things, leave them for you, but we can't hand them to you or put them in place. It has to be you."
Tears spilled over before I could stop them, the understanding in his voice breaking something loose in my chest.
"I don't know what I'm doing." The admission came out broken, vulnerable, my hands twisting in the hem of Reid's shirt. "I've never done this before. The suppressants always stopped it and now it's all just — it's instinct and I can't control it and I growled at you—"
"And that's okay." Kol's voice was gentle but firm, his body staying still, giving me space even though I could see the urge to comfort warring in his expression.
"I'm not hurt. I'm not offended. You're an Omega in the middle of nesting — growling at people who get too close to your space is literally the most normal thing you could do. "
Nolan appeared in the doorway, a thick fleece blanket in his arms — his blanket, I could smell it, pine and antiseptic and something warm underneath.
"I brought this." He set it on the floor just inside the room, not approaching further, his voice calm and professional. "From my bed. It's the softest one I have."
Sawyer was behind him, silent as always, a worn flannel shirt clutched in his hands. He didn't say anything, just set it on top of Nolan's blanket and stepped back, his expression unreadable but his scent carrying notes of something soft. Something like hope.
Reid returned with more supplies — blankets from the closet, pillows from the guest room, clothes from the laundry basket that hadn't been washed yet. He added them to the growing pile just inside the doorway, then stepped back to join the others.
Four Alphas, standing at the threshold of the room, offering me everything they had.
"Take what you need." Reid's voice was soft, encouraging, his dark eyes warm. "We'll wait."
I approached the pile slowly, my instincts guiding me now, the chaos in my head settling into something that felt almost like peace.
I picked up Sawyer's flannel first — his scent was comforting, grounding, earth and leather and quiet strength.
Then Nolan's blanket, soft and warm and smelling of safety.
Then Kol's pillow, sunshine and cinnamon, joy in fabric form.
I carried each item to the bed, arranging them with careful deliberation.
The blankets went down first, creating a soft base.
Then the shirts, tucked around the edges, their scents creating a barrier of pack.
The pillows went in specific spots — I didn't know why those spots, just that they were right.
Reid's shirt came off my body and went into the nest, in the very center. Then I looked at him, standing in the doorway, watching me with an expression of such tender wonder it made my chest ache.
"Come here." My voice was softer now, the frantic edge fading, replaced by something warm and settled. "I need you in the center. The rest of it... it builds around you."
He moved slowly, carefully, letting me guide him onto the bed, into the nest. He settled where I put him, his body going pliant and willing, letting me arrange him like another piece of the puzzle.
"Now the rest of you." I looked at the others, still hovering in the doorway. "I need you close. But..." I hesitated, the words hard to find. "Let me place you. Don't just... I need to do it."
They came one at a time, letting me guide them into the nest, letting me arrange them around Reid. Kol on one side, his warmth and brightness a comfort. Nolan on the other, his steadiness an anchor. And Sawyer at the foot, his solid presence a guard.
I crawled into the center, into the space they'd left for me, surrounded on all sides by pack.
Their scents mingled together — cedar and sunshine and pine and earth — creating something new, something whole.
Something that smelled like home. Tears came again, but different this time.
Not confusion or shame, but something overwhelming and beautiful. Relief. Belonging.
"This is pack." Reid's voice was rough with emotion, his arm coming around my waist, pulling me closer. "This is what you deserve. What you've always deserved."
"You did good." Sawyer's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but the words hit me like a physical blow. "Both of you. The rut, the nesting... you did good."
Kol's purr joined Reid's, then Nolan's, then — impossibly — a low rumble from Sawyer that I'd never heard before. Four purrs, four heartbeats, four scents, all wrapped around me like the warmest blanket.
I closed my eyes, let the exhaustion finally win, let myself sink into the safety of the nest I'd built. They were mine. And I was theirs. My instincts weren't something to fear. They weren't something to suppress, to fight, to be ashamed of.
They were leading me home.