Chapter Seven #2
“I look forward to your ridiculous T-shirts every time I see you,” she murmurs teasingly, her hands coming to rest lightly on my chest. She tilts her head up, amusement and affection sparkling in those breathtaking eyes of hers.
I grin down at her, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should see the ones Micha makes me change out of before I leave the house.”
Odette giggles, her body shaking gently against mine, and suddenly the chaos of my mind stills for just a moment. There’s nothing but her warmth, her laughter, the easy banter of my packmates in the background, and the comforting scent of marble dust and sunshine wrapping around us.
If this is what insanity feels like, then sign me the fuck up, because I’m never letting her go.
I reluctantly loosened my hold on Odette, just enough to let my packmates ease into her orbit.
Not because I particularly wanted to let go, I didn’t, but because I could feel the pull from them, their quiet eagerness to touch and reassure her, too. We are a team, a pack, and we are hers.
Micha stepped forward first, cupping Odette’s face between his palms with a reverence I usually only saw from him when he handled rare weapons or very old whiskey.
He brushed his thumb tenderly across her flushed cheekbone, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against her forehead.
Odette’s lashes fluttered closed, and she sighed softly, a quiet release of the tension she’d carried in her shoulders.
“You really do look beautiful,” Micha murmured against her skin, voice quiet and full of steady affection. “Missed you.”
Salem was next, his touch just as gentle, careful, and deliberate. He caught her hand, lifting it slowly to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on her fingertips. Her eyes widened slightly at the sweet gesture, a new blush darkening her cheeks as Salem smiled softly.
“We’re happy to see you smiling again, Odette,” Salem said, quiet enough that it felt like a private confession just for her. “Feels like the sun finally came back out.”
Odette smiled shyly, something tender and hopeful flickering through those beautiful blue eyes, and my chest ached deliciously. God, she really was our sun—warm, bright, and capable of burning us all to ashes without even knowing it.
Ravik waited last, a quiet, looming shadow, until she looked up at him.
His jaw was tense, eyes carefully guarded, but when he reached out to her, every gesture was delicate, as if afraid the wrong movement would bruise her.
He slowly tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, tracing his fingertips along her jaw.
For a moment, the silent brute simply stared down at her, the intensity of his gaze so profound I almost looked away—almost.
“You’re stronger than you realize,” he murmured finally, his voice a rough, low rumble of conviction. Odette held his gaze bravely, blinking away tears I wasn’t sure she noticed.
“I’m trying,” she whispered back.
As the tenderness filled the room, my restless gaze drifted across the studio and landed on her newest sculpture.
The marble figure was complete now, unpolished but stunningly vivid in its expression of agony and strength.
The sight punched me square in the chest. I whistled softly through my teeth, stepping closer to run my fingertips carefully along the smooth, cold curves of marble chains wrapped around the figure’s wrists.
“Holy shit, my sun,” I breathed. “You finished her.”
The others stepped closer, their attention now entirely on her work. Ravik was the first to speak, his voice tight with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. “It’s extraordinary. Raw and beautiful. Like you.”
Odette’s lips parted in surprise at his words, color rising in her cheeks again, but there was pride in the lift of her chin. Micha tilted his head thoughtfully, eyes thoughtful and serious as always. “What are you calling this one, sweetheart?”
She hesitated briefly, eyes on her sculpture, before she spoke softly. “Trapped.”
At her admission, a quiet hush filled the room, the heavy weight of meaning hanging between us all. Micha nodded solemnly, understanding passing silently between them. Salem stepped forward, softly squeezing her shoulder in support.
“It’s powerful,” he said simply, gently grounding her in our presence.
Odette released a quiet breath, something inside her visibly loosening with our reassurance, before looking up at us again. Her blue eyes glittered with a spark of mischief, just enough to break the somber mood. “Want to head upstairs? I need to pack, but I got caught up working.”
We followed her eagerly, climbing the narrow wooden staircase that led up from the garage. Odette opened the door at the top, stepping aside to let us into her private sanctuary, and my mouth immediately dropped open in delight.
Her apartment was pure Odette, warm and inviting, bursting with vibrant, sunshine colors that felt exactly like stepping into a sunset.
Walls painted in rich honey-gold glowed softly beneath the strings of delicate fairy lights draped across the ceiling.
A plush, vintage-style orange sofa with thick cushions dominated the living area, piled high with soft pillows in warm shades of yellow and cream.
A fluffy white rug lay underfoot, leading to shelves overflowing with beloved books, sculpting journals, and eclectic art prints.
Small succulents and houseplants dotted every surface, thriving cheerfully beneath the glow of sunlight that poured through large, breezy windows framed with sheer curtains.
Her scent is heavy and thick. Saturating every inch of the place.
“I love your place,” I said reverently, practically spinning in place like an excited child, taking it all in. “It’s like living inside your mind. Warm, colorful, and a little bit chaotic.”
Odette laughed softly, her blue eyes sparkling as she watched me explore. She seemed lighter here, surrounded by her space and comforted by the colors and warmth she loved.
“You captured her perfectly,” Salem said quietly, looking around the space with gentle appreciation.
I sprawled happily on the soft, orange sofa, stretching out shamelessly and grinning up at Odette. “I officially live here now. You’re going to have to drag me out, kicking and screaming.”
Odette shook her head in fond amusement, stepping toward me and lightly nudging my shoulder with her knee. “Careful, chaos-boy. I would take you up on that. But I’m supposed to be packing to move in with you .”
I laugh, grabbing her hand to tug her down beside me.
She landed softly with a startled laugh, nestled against my side as the others settled comfortably around us, Micha leaning against the back of the couch, Salem lounging gracefully beside him, and Ravik quietly claiming a nearby armchair, his presence filling the room with silent strength.
As Odette relaxed against me, something in my chest clicked firmly into place. Sitting here, surrounded by the colors of her soul, I knew one thing for sure: I was never letting her go.
Not ever.
For a while, we all simply lingered in Odette’s cozy living room, the easy conversation flowing between us like we’d known each other our whole lives.
Her laughter filled the air, sweet and unguarded, and for a moment, the darkness we’d glimpsed downstairs seemed impossibly far away.
I’d never felt more content than with her curled against my side, her head resting lightly on my shoulder, fingers absently playing with the hem of my ridiculous T-shirt.
Eventually, she sighed softly and shifted beside me, gently patting my chest before standing up. “Okay, as much as I love lounging around, I really need to start packing. Otherwise, I’ll never make it to your place.”
I made an exaggerated noise of distress, clutching dramatically at my heart. “You wound me. Leaving me here alone, unthinkable!”
She rolled her eyes playfully but laughed anyway. “You’ll survive, I promise.”
“I’ll help,” Salem volunteered immediately, rising smoothly from his seat.
Odette smiled warmly, placing a gentle hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s okay. I’ll be quick, I promise. Just relax—make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.”
Reluctantly, Salem sank back down, shooting her a gentle, encouraging nod. “We’ll be here.”
As she disappeared down the short hallway toward her bedroom, I glanced around her apartment again. “Honestly, guys, how great is this place? It’s like stepping directly inside her head.”
“It suits her,” Micha agreed quietly, eyes softening.
Ravik hummed his agreement from the armchair, idly tracing his thumb over a small carved statue he’d picked up from a nearby table, clearly fascinated by her artistry. “She deserves comfort after everything she’s been through,” he murmured.
Odette reappeared sooner than expected, carrying a heavy, worn duffle bag that she carefully placed by the couch. Her face was thoughtful now, the playful sparkle momentarily subdued by seriousness. I could feel the shift immediately, an undercurrent of tension settling softly around her shoulders.
“Everything okay?” Micha asked gently, picking up on the change just as quickly as I did.
She hesitated for a heartbeat before lifting her chin, meeting our curious eyes head-on. “I need to pack up my nest. I want to bring it with me.”
The room quieted briefly, each of us exchanging uncertain glances before Micha cautiously cleared his throat. “Odette, sunshine, we can—”
But she held up her hand gently yet firmly, stopping him mid-sentence. The determination in her gaze was so fierce, so beautifully stubborn, that it caught me off guard.
“Please listen,” she said softly, her voice steady and sure.
“I know tradition says an alpha provides an omega’s nest, but…
my nest is mine. Every item in there, every blanket, pillow, and every scrap of fabric, is something I bought and chose myself.
Lately…” Her voice trembled just slightly before she steadied herself, determination blazing even brighter.
“Lately, almost everything in my life has felt completely out of my control. But this, my nest, my things, my space, is something I have power over. I need that. I need to keep that.”
I saw Micha’s expression soften instantly, understanding flooding his gaze. Salem nodded quietly, clearly respecting the quiet strength it took for her to say this out loud. Ravik merely tilted his head slightly, eyes serious but warm.
I stood slowly, approaching her carefully, not because I doubted her strength, but because I wanted her to feel how serious we took her words.
Gently, I cupped her cheek, running my thumb softly along her jawline, delighting in the warmth of her skin beneath my touch.
“My sun, if your nest means that much to you, we’ll move the moon itself to bring it home. We understand, really.”
Micha nodded firmly beside me, moving closer as well. “Your space is sacred, Odette. We’ll never take that from you. If you want your things, they’re coming with us. End of story.”
She visibly relaxed beneath our assurances, tension melting out of her frame.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Thank you. And I promise I won’t make you move any furniture, just…
the blankets, the pillows, all the soft stuff.
” She paused, grinning mischievously. “Technically, if you provide the furniture, you’re still providing for my nest. Loophole? ”
I barked out a surprised laugh, delighted by her cleverness. “I adore you. Did I mention that yet today?”
“Only every other text you’ve sent today,” she teased softly.
“Clearly not enough,” I retorted, dropping a loud kiss to her cheek. “Prepare for a lifetime of constant reminders.”
She flushed warmly, looking down at the floor with shy happiness before clearing her throat, regaining control.
“Okay. If everyone’s done embarrassing me with sweetness, I should finish packing.
And yes—” She pointed accusingly at me. “—you may help me carry things, chaos-boy, since you seem so eager to prove your worth.”
I bow dramatically, grinning broadly. “At your service, my queen.”
As we followed Odette back down the hall toward her bedroom, laughter echoed softly between us, wrapping around her like a promise: we would always hear her. We would always respect her. We would always keep her safe.
And if carrying her beloved nest back home meant she felt even the slightest shred of comfort, I’d happily tear apart heaven and hell to make sure it happened.
She deserved nothing less.