Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Naomi
The chalet door shuts and my head spins.
It's warm here and their essence is everywhere.
Silas's leather and dark amber. Liam's black tea and old books. Felix's honey and vanilla. All of it is baked into the air of this house.
The drive up from town couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes, but it was enough for the heat to build from uncomfortable to urgent.
I lock onto the fireplace and the empty rug in front of it. Except it's not just a rug anymore, it's the perfect spot.
Nest. Nest. Nest.
A sound escapes my throat as my omega makes up her mind about having the spot there. It's high-pitched and needy. A whine.
All three alphas go rigid.
"Are you okay, angel?" Felix starts toward me.
"I need—" The words tangle on my tongue. What do I need? Everything. Nothing. Just... "Blankets. All the blankets."
"Naomi." Liam's voice is careful. "You should sit down."
But I'm already moving, grabbing a throw from the couch. It smells like Felix and I bury my nose in it for one dizzying second before my nesting instincts are stronger and I manage to get back to my business.
“Pillows,” I blurt. “Every pillow in this house. The cushions too. Oh, and make a fire." I'm dropping everything in the empty space in front of the hearth. Something inside me is frantic, pacing a cage. "I need—”
"Angel, relax, we'll do this for you," Silas offers, stepping toward me.
"No!" The word comes out sharp, almost a growl.
They all freeze and heat floods my face, hot from embarrassment on top of my actual heat. I drag in a breath, try again.
“I just…” My throat works around the words. “I need to do this. Me. But I—I could really use more stuff. Blankets, comforters, anything soft. From everywhere.” I finally look up at them. “And a fire. Please.”
Something clicks in Liam’s gaze. His mouth parts. “Oh,” he says softly. “You’re nesting.”
The word hangs between us for half a beat.
Then all three move at once, scattering in different directions.
"Linen closets," Silas calls, already heading down the hall.
"Guest rooms," Liam adds, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Suite," Felix says, disappearing around the corner.
I stand there, watching them mobilize. Within seconds, Silas is back with an armful of quilts. Liam thunders down the stairs with blankets spilling from his arms. Felix returns with throws and pillows.
They dump everything in a growing mountain in front of the hearth and immediately spin out again. Hallway doors open and close. Closet hinges creak. Blankets keep appearing, pillows, afghans, a heavy comforter…
"Is this enough?" Felix pants, adding another load.
I shake my head. Not enough.
They keep bringing more until the pile is enormous. Silas finally starts the fire, and, with all that, something in my chest loosens slightly. This is better.
"Wait!" I blurt as they turn to leave again. My face burns. "Your jerseys. The ones you're wearing. Can I—"
I don’t even need to finish.
Silas peels his jersey off in one smooth motion, undershirt coming with it. Liam’s sweater and tee follow, showing his lean muscle. Felix’s shirt drags up over his golden skin and abs, and the heat in my body surges so violently I have to grab the back of the couch to stay upright.
I missed that sight. They're so fucking hot.
“Here you are, angel,” Silas says, already tossing his jersey onto the pile.
“Anything you need,” Liam adds quietly, dropping his.
Felix winks. “My jersey is your jersey."
They're about to leave again, but they're so close, and their smell is even more potent without their tops on… I'm reaching for them before I can think, my hands finding Silas's bare chest first.
I press my face against his neck, inhale, and my head spins faster than it already did. A sound that's half whimper, half purr escapes me, and I'm rubbing my cheek against his throat, scenting marking him.
"Naomi," he breathes, hands coming to my waist.
I pull his head down and kiss him. He makes a surprised sound that turns into a growl, and I'm drowning in his scent and his taste and the feel of his skin under my palms.
When we break apart, Liam is there. I press myself against his chest, nose dragging along his collarbone. My hands slide around to his back, holding him while I rub my face against his shoulder.
"Fuck," Liam groans.
I kiss him too, and something in me whimpers at how right it feels.
Then Felix. I practically climb him, and rub my cheek against his neck, desperate and shameless, smearing my scent on him, claiming him. He makes this wrecked little sound, somewhere between a whine and a chuckle, and his fingers slide into my hair.
"Angel," he murmurs, hand cupping the back of my head.
I kiss him, soft and desperate, and for a moment I consider abandoning the nest and dragging them all to the floor right here.
But underneath the need to touch them, another instinct claws harder. Different. More urgent.
Nest. Build. Safe first.
I tear my mouth away from Felix’s with a gasp. “Out,” I blurt.
He blinks. “What?”
“You need to—” My hands flutter between us, useless. “I have to finish. Alone.”
“Got it,” Silas says immediately, already backing away, hands up.
"Now!"
They scatter, practically tripping over each other to give me space as they disappearing down the path that leads to the breezeway.
Silence drops over the living room, broken only by the crackle of the fire and my own ragged breathing.
I turn my attention back to the space in front of the fireplace.
Nest. Nest. Nest.
I shrug out of my sweater, tossing it somewhere behind me, and start with the nest boundaries.
The coffee table scrapes as I angle it closer to the hearth. One of the armchairs gets dragged in, giving me another solid edge. I nudge the couch a few inches inward until the space feels juuust right.
I know have walls on three sides. Fire on the fourth. Open enough to breathe. Closed enough to feel safe and cozy.
Now softness.
I pull the biggest blankets from the pile, one after another, spreading them on the floor to form the base. Thick comforter first, then quilts, then fleece. I smooth each layer compulsively, hunting down every wrinkle with my palms until it lies flat.
Everything smells like them.
I bring the gray blanket to my face, inhale, and my legs go out for a second. My knees hit the padding with a dull thump.
Home, my hindbrain purrs. Mine.
I lay it down carefully, smoothing the corners until they align just so.
Next, the walls. I drape a thick knit blanket over the back of the couch, letting it hang down to the floor. Another blanket gets thrown over the back of the nearer armchair, creating a curtain against the rest of the room.
This is turning into a nice, cozy den inside the larger living room.
I pull more blankets over the makeshift walls, stretching them from the top of the couch to the armchair, creating a low canopy. The fabric dips and billows, but it holds, enclosing the nest in its own soft tent. I leave the side facing the fire open.
Inside, I arranging pillows. Big ones go around the edges for support. Smaller ones get tucked into corners for knees, backs, heads.
Silas’s jersey goes on the left, Liam’s jersey gets woven into the right-hand blankets, and I drape Felix’s along the back wall.
I crawl across my work, adjusting and readjusting. One throw tucked into a corner. Another pillow wedged for lower back support.
The proportions have to be exactly right. Big enough for four bodies to move and touch, yet intimate enough.
I sit back on my heels and survey my work.
It's perfect.
And now, I need them.
"Alphas," I call out, my voice thick with need.
No answer.
WHERE ARE ALPHAS?