54. Zephyr
Zephyr
After we help Phoenix back up to lie next to Lazarus, our shadows slowly come back to us. It’s a warm feeling like a well-loved blanket being draped over my body, and I instantly start feeling better.
My eyes are closed when it’s like a second blanket has been added, and then a third. I get an instinctual feeling that it’s Phoenix’s and Laz’s shadows, though I can’t explain why I know that to be the case.
My pain starts dissipating quickly. My side doesn’t sting, and the feeling of bloating starts to go down. I’m super peaceful and warm.
Honey curls up between Laz and me. I inhale deep breaths of her spiced cider scent and let myself drift off to sleep.
I’m not cold when I wake up. Honey’s body is against me, and she’s a little furnace.
I try to use my shadow to raise the blanket, but my shadow’s gone, surrendered to her. This must be what it’s like to be a beta.
When I move away from Honey, she rolls toward me, eyes wide open, like she hasn’t slept a wink. I stand up out of bed, and she smiles and yawns, pushing to sit up.
Every inch of her is on display, and I step between her and the mirror, blocking its view.
“I feel hot,” Honey whines softly.
It’s that beautiful, needy omega noise that calls to the alpha in me.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and cooled off a little bit.” I pick up her discarded gown from the bed and hold it out for her.
Without arguing, Honey slides the garment on and ties it at the side.
Xavier went all out with these nesting suites.
The bathroom is fitted with accessibility features, but it’s all in the highest luxury materials.
The shower features multiple heads, benches, ledges, and is big enough for an entire pack to fit in.
The tub is practically a hot tub with how big it is, and a panel on the wall shows that it has a water recirculation system for keeping the water comfortable and warm.
There are three sinks, two toilets in separate water closets, and a cupboard that has warmed towels.
“Is this a real bathroom?” Honey asks, looking around. “This doesn’t feel like a bathroom people normally have.”
“It’s surprisingly common in big, wealthy households. My parents each have their own bathroom, plus the pack bathroom.” I scrub my hand down my face before walking over to the shower and turning it on. A readout displays the exact temperature of the water as it falls from the showerhead.
“I prefer the smaller bathrooms.” Honey wanders over to the water closet and closes the door behind her. She says through the door, “The toilet seat is warm. Okay, this is kind of a nice feature.”
I’m forcing myself to keep my laugh quiet, but I wish Phoenix was awake to hear this exchange.
The water is almost the perfect temperature when Honey comes out of the bathroom. Despite getting ready to hop in the shower, she stops and washes her hands in the sink. She sniffs, scenting the soap. “It smells like flowers threw up on my hands.”
This new opinionated version of Honey has come out of nowhere, and I love it. I’m smiling so wide at her as I help her pull off the gown and discard it in the laundry hamper tucked between the sink and shower.
“Get in, I’ll grab us clean clothes from the dresser.” I know, for the kind of money it costs to rent one of these suites, there will absolutely be fresh robes and sweatpants to wear.
Honey steps into the shower and under the spray. Her whole body sighs, shoulders slumping as the mildly warm water hits her.
In the nest room, Phoenix and Lazarus are snuggling. Lazarus has his arm around Phoenix while he’s cuddled up to Lazarus’s chest.
It almost seems like a trick of the light as our shadows move from Phoenix’s body. A large darkness pools in the air above them before settling into Lazarus. Why didn’t they heal Lazarus first?
I know I won’t get an answer, but maybe Phoenix and I were worse than we thought.
Remembering why I came in here, I move over to the dresser. There are practically every size of sweatpants, sweatshirts, T-shirts, and robes. I pick out things to fit me and Honey before going back to the bathroom.
Honey hasn’t moved; she’s standing, eyes closed, under the spray, drawing slow breaths. Her chest rises and falls in a peaceful rhythm. She’s perfect, relaxing there like that, her lips a little pouty as if sleeping.
I set the clothes on the counter, and when I step in with her, she opens her eyes.
“Hello.” She reaches for me.
Taking her hand in mine, I note that her temperature hasn’t changed. Oh yeah, she’s in heat.
I squeeze it before raising it to my mouth and placing a kiss on it. “I love you.”
Honey blushes, her cheeks going pink. “I love you too.”
This is what it should have been like the first time in her heat.
I step into her space and kiss her. The water bouncing off her and spraying me is cold after it travels through the air, causing me to shiver.
“We can turn the water warmer.” Honey looks over her shoulder toward the wall with the screen and taps.
“I’m okay.” I kiss her forehead. “Besides, you’ll keep me warm.”
“I went into my impure time, heat” — she corrects herself — “again. But it doesn’t feel like the last time this happened.”
“It should come and go in waves at first, getting worse before it gets better. But we’ll all be here every step of the way.” I reach for the shampoo to wash her hair.
“We can’t go home?” Honey’s lips part ever so slightly.
“We’ll send a courier to get your blankets and pillows and clothes so that you’re comfortable. But no, it’s against the law for the nexus to let you leave if you’re actively in heat, and Xavier won’t break that law.” I explain as sensitively as I can. I don’t want her to get upset.
Movement in the bathroom catches my eye. I look but don’t really need to. I could feel Phoenix getting closer.
“Why would we need blankets and pillows? There are some on the bed.” Honey switches places with me in the shower, and I change my mind, quickly bumping up the water temperature a few degrees while I wash her hair.
But when that question sinks in, my heart breaks.
“What do you mean, why would you need them?” Phoenix opens the door to the shower. “You’ll want to nest.”
He turns on the spray from another showerhead and stands under it, not caring that it’s frigid at first.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Honey shakes her head. I start working the shampoo into her hair, and she sighs. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t need those things.”
Phoenix and I exchange looks. And it’s clear with our silent conversation, raised eyebrows and head shakes, we agree she’s getting those boxes of blankets.
“Well, just in case you want them. It’s kind of expected. Omegas want to make a space feel comfortable for themselves while they’re in heat.” I try to explain.
“That feels good,” Honey murmurs as I work the shampoo into her scalp a couple inches behind her ears. “I guess, if you want me to have them here, if it’ll make you feel better, then we should.”
“It’ll absolutely make us feel better.” Phoenix tries not to laugh, biting his lips together.
I’m guessing Honey’s eyes are closed because he’s shaking his head.
Phoenix washes himself while I help Honey rinse her hair. She’s purring and making those soft, needy sounds.
I haven’t tried reaching out through the bond to any of them yet, but I can feel it strung between us. It’s like webbing in my brain, and they each live at different ends but are all tied together.
I try to reach Phoenix. “Can you hear me?”
“Oh, man. This trick will really piss people off. We literally share a brain now,” Phoenix answers.
“Who do we trust to go into our apartment that won’t piss Honey off?” I push a list of people through the bond, but Phoenix stops me.
“Fox. Obviously. He’s like the nesting supply god, and he doesn’t care about digging through our dirty laundry. ’ Cause he’s a doctor and shit.” Phoenix makes such a valid point.
“Okay, now, where are our phones?” I try to remember when I even last saw it, and the only thing that comes up is on the road, calling for help.
“Why are you having brain conversations without me?” Honey joins in, and it feels like when we were busted by Mom trying to sneak out of the house.
So, apparently, talking through the bond requires more concentration to keep her and Laz out of it. Or, maybe, that’s the point, to keep us all connected.