Chapter 32 Remi
I wake up in a nest.
Not my nest. Not the one I would have built, with the arrangement of pillows and blankets and Crew's worn hoodie that I've been wearing for weeks.
This nest is different. Bigger. The pillows are silk.
The blankets are cashmere. Everything smells of bourbon and chocolate and orange, as if someone took Knox's scent and pressed it into every surface of the room.
Knox built me a nest.
He chose the pillows. He chose the blankets. He arranged them in the safe, circular pattern that omegas need.
Crew is at the foot of the bed. Not on the nest. Sitting in a chair he's pulled close, his elbows on his knees, his hands steepled under his chin. He's watching me with the stillness of a man who has been watching me for hours.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey." My voice comes out rough. "How long was I out?"
"Just two hours."
I try to sit up. My body disagrees. Heat rolls through me in a nauseating wave, low and crushing. I grip the edge of the nest and breathe through it.
"Don't move," Crew says. He leans forward but doesn't touch the nest. His hands are right there, inches from the blankets, and he's holding himself back because that's what alphas do.
You don't enter an omega's nest unless you're invited.
It doesn't matter that I'm burning alive.
It doesn't matter that his body is telling him to hold me. The nest is mine and he waits.
"Crew."
"Yeah."
"Get in here."
"Thank fuck." He's beside me in a second, pulling me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me so tight his heartbeat feels like my own. His skin is cool against mine and I press into him, every fevered inch of me seeking the relief of his body temperature.
"Don't drop," he says against my hair. "Don't you dare drop on me."
"I'm trying."
"Try harder." His voice cracks. Just slightly. Just enough. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. When your heat comes, I'll be right here. I promise."
I press my face into his neck. His scent fills my lungs and steadies something in my chest that's been rattling since I woke up.
"Where's Knox and Steele?" I ask.
Crew's arms tighten around me. "Knox and Steele are trying to find Isabella."
"Still?"
"Yeah, her apartment was empty and she’s gone."
I pull back. Look at him. His jaw is set, the way it gets when he's holding information he doesn't want to hand over.
"Gone?"
"Knox called me to get here, because he doesn't trust anyone with you. And then he drove across the city."
The heat surges. I grip Crew's shirt and ride it out, my teeth clenched, my thighs slick, my body doing something it hasn't done before and doing it badly. I feel like an old car with an engine that's been idle too long, firing on half its cylinders.
My phone rings on the nightstand. Crew hands it to me.
"Knox."
"You're awake. Are you okay?" His voice is tight. Controlled. The kind of control that means nothing is under control.
"I'm awake. I'm fine."
"I need to ask you something about Isabella. Did she ever mention anyone? Someone who made her uncomfortable. A man, maybe. Someone around the skating world."
I close my eyes.
Isabella and I on the couch, coffee cups, her bracelet catching the light. The way she talked about it as if it was nothing when it clearly wasn't nothing.
"She mentioned a gift," I say. "Someone left her things. A bracelet. Earrings. Expensive things. She played it off, but it was strange."
"What else?"
I press my forehead against Crew's chest. Think.
And then it hits me.
"It couldn't be Dr. Peters, could it?"
Silence on the line.
"I never liked him," I say. The pieces click together too fast. "And when I came to Nashville to train, Nikki asked him about my omega status.
He kept pushing me to stop the suppressants.
He ran tests, asked invasive questions about my heat cycle.
Kept telling me my body needed to be freed.
I thought he was being medical about it. "
My stomach turns.
"Did he want me off the suppressants because of my health? Or because he wanted an omega in heat? And if he wanted that from me—"
"He wanted it from Isabella."
"She's an omega. A famous one. A beautiful one who lives alone and has a doctor who knows exactly how to trigger an omega's heat." I stop. "But he's married. Married men don't leave anonymous jewellery."
Knox's breathing turns steady. Too steady.
"Knox."
"Her apartment is empty, Remi." His voice has gone flat in a way that's worse than shaking. "The door was open. She's not here."
Crew's arms lock around me. His whole body goes rigid.
"Find her," I say.
"I will. I'll tear this city apart if I have to. But Remi—"
"I'm fine, Knox. Find her."
He hangs up. I stare at the phone screen until it goes dark.
"He's going to find her," Crew says.
I nod. I don't trust my voice.
The heat takes another run at me. This one is worse. Slick soaks through the cashmere blanket and my temperature spikes. I curl into Crew's body and shake. Not from the cold. From fear.
A woman appears in the doorway. Dark hair, a calm face, medical bag.
"I'm Dr. Avery," she says. "Knox asked me to come."
She checks my temperature, pulse, pupils with gentle but clinical hands, Crew holds me. Her hands are cool.
"You're in pre-heat arrest," she says, sitting back. "Your body has been trying to trigger a full heat for weeks, but the damage from the suppressants is disrupting the release. You're stuck at the threshold."
"What does that mean?"
"Two options." She folds her hands. "First, we let it play out. Your body continues to build toward the heat and either it breaks on its own or—"
"Or I drop."
"Yes."
"Option two."
"I inject you with a heat booster. Synthetic oxytocin combined with a hormone accelerant. It will push your body past the threshold and into a full heat."
"And the risk?"
"The heat could be intense. Prolonged. Days, potentially. And with the suppressant damage, your body may not regulate it well. You'll need alphas present throughout."
I look at Crew. "When is the next semi-final?"
"Three days."
In three days, Steele and Crew could be on the ice in a game that determines whether the Scorpions advance to the finals. And me, potentially locked in a heat that lasts longer than any of us can predict, needing alphas who should be playing hockey.
"I don't know if I can risk it," I say. "I don't want you and Steele missing a game that's this important. And I can't go through a multi-day heat with only one alpha."
Crew takes my face in his hands. "Your health is more important than the game, Remi."
"Crew."
"I mean it. Hockey is what I do. You're who I am." His thumbs brush my cheeks. "Bring it on. I can do this."
I look at Dr. Avery. "How soon?"
"I can administer it now. The heat will likely begin within six to twelve hours, possibly sooner."
My hand strokes the nest Knox built me as I look at Crew, an alpha who waited at the foot of the bed because he wouldn't enter without permission. My phone sits dark on the nightstand, waiting for a call.
"Do it," I say.
Dr. Avery opens her bag.
Crew pulls me closer. Presses his mouth to my temple. "I've got you."
"I know."
"The whole time. I'm not leaving this nest."
"Thank you." I close my eyes. His heartbeat against my chest. The cashmere under my skin. Knox's scent in every pillow. "Tell Steele."
"Already texted him."
"Tell him to find Isabella first. Then come home."
Crew's hand tightens in my hair as the needle goes into my arm. Cold, then warm, then nothing for a second.
Then heat.
“Crew, before this starts and I lose myself, I want you to know that I love you.”
Crew’s eyes fill with tears as he holds me close. “And I love you.”