Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Neveah
We’ve all been on edge, impatiently waiting for Sage to either finish her nest or collapse from exhaustion. It’s nearly eight at night, which means she’s been at it for over twelve hours.
Riley is sitting at the kitchen table, both of his knees bouncing as he scrolls on his phone. Brooks has been in the kitchen cooking up enough food to feed an army.
And I keep pacing up and down the stairs, shoving my hands in and out of my pockets. Why don’t I know what to do with my hands? What do I normally do with my hands?
The door at the end of the hallway opens and I leap up the last two steps to see Sage looking like she’s ready to drop. I stride over and scoop her into my arms.
“How are you feeling?”
“It’s done,” she says, a content smile on her face.
“I’m so happy to hear that, Sweetling. I’m sure it’s perfect, but I asked about you, not your nest.”
“Oh,” she says, scrunching her eyebrows as I stalk down the stairs with her cradled against me. “I’m good. Yeah.”
“Very convincing,” I murmur, then I set her on a stool at the kitchen counter.
Brooks immediately starts shoving food in front of her, and to everyone’s relief, she practically inhales it. We all watch her, having snacked here and there ourselves over the last two hours, but she freezes when she realizes we aren’t eating with her.
Her eyes dart to each of us while her cheeks are puffed out like a cute little chipmunk. She chews rapidly, then swallows with a gulp.
"You're not eating?”
“Of course we are,” Brooks says, glaring at Riley and me, then shoving plates in front of both of us.
“We are now,” Riley grumbles, and Brooks shoots him another look. I sigh, this has been a tense day for all of us.
“You said the nest is done,” I say. “How do you like it?”
“I love it, it’s—” Sage cuts herself off, then darts her eyes around the three of us. “I mean, I think it’s good. I hope you’ll all like it.”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“I don’t know,” she says, poking at her food. “I was always told alphas don’t like a lot of colors, but now I think… Maybe… That was a lie?”
Brooks swallows a growl and my hand clenches on my fork.
“You’re correct in that whoever told you that was lying. Alphas like all different colors, just like anybody else.”
“Oh,” she says, a small frown on her face. “Okay.”
“We’d love to see it,” Riley says.
“When you’re ready to show us,” Brooks interjects.
Sage takes another bite, chewing and swallowing slowly.
“I want to show you, but I’m scared you won’t like it.”
“I promise that’s not possible, Petal.”
“How do you know?” she asks. Her voice is so vulnerable it makes me want to build actual brick walls around her to keep her safe.
“Because it’s you,” I say.
Brooks and Riley both nod in agreement, and we all watch the confusion and uncertainty play across her face. Finally, she pushes her mostly empty plate away and stands.
“I’d like to show you now, then. Before my nerves get the better of me.”
We follow her up the stairs like a line of ducklings, only for her to stop outside the door.
“Close your eyes,” she says.
We all obey immediately, and I hear scuffing feet, then small hands grip my arms and tug me forward. I feel Riley in front of me, and Brooks’ massive bicep brushes against mine.
“Okay. Keep them closed until I say.”
The door opens, and the most beautiful combination of our scents flows out. Brooks groans, and Riley and I suck in deep breaths.
Soft lavender and sweet vanilla.
The earthy tones of mine and Brooks’ scents weave together into notes of warm musk, smooth and woody. A summer forest with blooming chamomile.
Fresh lemon intertwines them all.
“Okay,” a soft voice calls out. “Open your eyes.”
I barely suppress a gasp when I open my eyes, and Riley doesn’t bother to cover his.
“Sage,” I breathe, my eyes darting around the space.
Deep blues accented with touches of green and soft beige, teal and turquoise interspersed with the occasional dot of rich purple.
Piles of pillows and blankets are neatly arranged in aesthetic clusters.
The walls look textured due to the rippling wallpaper, accentuated by the twinkle lights casting the space in an ethereal glow.
And in the middle of it, our own perfect omega.
She kneels, sitting back on her heels in the middle of the recessed mattress. Her long brown hair flows around her, barely skimming her heels, and her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles white and pinched with nerves.
“Do you like it?” Her voice wavers slightly, and Riley jerks forward a step in response. Brooks catches his shoulder with a warning growl. We will not step a single toe across that doorway unless she asks us to.
“We love it, Petal. It’s absolutely stunning,” he says.
Riley nods emphatically and I hum my agreement, lost in the beauty of her in her space. She eyes us, uncertainty pinching her brow, but then her expression clears.
“Oh, I forgot. Please, come in.”