Chapter 48
Winnie
The ride from the wedding back to the pack house was a blur.
Eli’s knot deflated quickly because of the heat hormones, and Rafe, primed and hungry from eating us out, stepped in.
Eli allowed him to slide between my center and his broad chest, then reached down and wrapped his hand around Rafe’s length.
Rafe bit his lip, holding himself silent in the way he knows Eli appreciates.
Eli pumped him once, twice, then guided him to my slick, cum-soaked center. I grasped Rafe’s hips and pulled him into me. The knowledge that Rafe was being used right alongside me sent slick flooding low, my body responding to the shared heat between us.
Rafe drove into me with fast, sharp thrusts, his cock kicking inside me as Eli worked him from behind. Soon, I was knotted again.
By the time we reached Corbin’s cabin, I’d been knotted at least four times.
My omega, satisfied, retreated so that I could have some control.
Corbin bundled me in his jacket, then in his arms, carrying me bridal-style into the big cabin, up the stairs, and into the master suite.
I wiggle out of his hold. This is the first time they’re going to see the nest. I’m not missing it.
As I approach the double doors set into the far wall, my hands shake and my heart storms in my ears.
I glance back over my shoulder at them. Rafe and Eli look wrecked from everything we did in the car.
Corbin’s eyes are full of care. Gage looks impatient, restless.
Zeke, my only bonded, for now, sends a steady pulse of reassurance straight down the bond.
I take a deep breath and open the doors.
The nest looks much like the one we saw at the store, with a few changes. A teardrop chandelier hangs from the ceiling, dimmable and scattered with iridescent crystals. Flowering plants spill softly from their hooks. A mural stretches across the far wall.
A mural I painted with careful precision, using a projector and a great deal of patience. I’m not naturally artistic. I never paint. But I knew I needed a piece of my lost mate in this space, and I hoped the alphas would want a piece of their lost packmate too.
I’m too nervous to turn around, so I listen.
No sound comes from behind me.
I draw in a slow breath and turn.
Rafe is leaning into Eli, tear tracks cutting down his face as Eli holds him close.
Gage has his hand over his mouth, staring at the mural with eyes gone bright and wet, and Corbin’s hand is firm on Gage’s shoulder, like he’s holding him upright by sheer will.
Zeke gives me a watery smile and brushes the bond with pure, knee-shaking love.
“I wanted to make sure some part of Nick was in here with us,” I say. “Rafe lent me his sketches. I hope that’s okay.” My voice trails off at the end.
Rafe breaks free from Eli and strides toward me. I brace myself, but he wraps me in his long, strong arms and lifts me clean off the floor, holding me tight.
“Thank you for this, Dulzura,” he whispers into my hair. “It’s perfect.”
He sets me down, and we stand together, taking in the mural.
Most of Nick’s drawings were of nature. Mountains.
Rivers. Trails winding through trees. Some were close-ups of animals and insects, quiet studies of the wild.
But when I found the sketch of hummingbirds drinking from a patch of wildflowers, I knew.
That was the one. It felt like it belonged to me, deep in my chest.
It fills the far wall of the nest now. Pastel wildflowers spill outward, soft and open. The hummingbirds shimmer in blues and purples, their wings caught mid-beat.
Heat cramps begin low and slow in my belly, the ache curling inward. My brief moment of lucidity fades.
I’m glad I got to spend it showing my alphas our nest.
My alphas.
It’s the last thought I have before my omega rises and takes me under.