41. Kenny
Kenny
H umming under my breath, I lean back against Jake’s chest, my eyes at half-mast as I flick through movie choices. His breathing is steady against me, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. Fast asleep.
“What about that one?” On the other end of the couch, Max massages my feet. I wiggle my new socks at him in appreciation. For both the movie choice and the socks.
I mean, they have little snakes on them. Unconventional, maybe, but I love them anyway. Grinning, he tugs on my little toe. “You have the strangest taste. I love it.”
Shrugging, I pick up a piece of popcorn from the bowl in my lap and toss it, hiding my smile with a feigned focus on the screen. Biting my lip, I watch as it bounces off the side of Oscar’s face. He looks up from his analytics textbook, his brows scrunching together. He doesn’t even look at Max. Dark eyes narrow on me as I feign innocence. “You okay? Did you just… throw a piece of popcorn at me?”
I point at Max without missing a beat. “Wasn’t me. Do you want to watch the movie?”
He’s not close enough, even though he’s less than six feet away. I want him next to me. In fact, I want all of them next to me. “It’s really warm in here. Can we turn the heating down?”
The back of my neck feels damp when I press my fingers against it. All of me feels too warm. Almost overheated. Even my stomach, weirdly. Grimacing, I pull off my sweatshirt, leaving me in a thin tee and leggings. But it doesn’t help. I tug my top away from my damp skin, fanning it. “I think the heating is broken. Or the tacos Theo made were off.”
“They weren’t off. They were excellent tacos. You ate four of them.” I relax as his hand brushes my cheek in gentle reassurance, tilting my head to grin up at him. But he doesn’t smile back. His forehead dips, pulling together into a frown. “You do feel warm. We need to check your temperature.”
It’s barely even Spring. It shouldn’t be this warm in here.
Twisting, I reach for Max. He leans forward immediately, our fingers lacing. “What’s the matter, baby?”
Frowning, I focus on his face. “I need…,”
Something. My abdomen clenches, and I suck in a breath. “I don’t think I feel very well.”
He glances down at my hand. Back up. “You’re burning up.”
Burning.
It almost feels like a signal going off in my head. My stomach twists, flips, clenches in a surge of need that has me folding over, gripping my belly. Jake jerks beneath me, instantly on alert. “That’s…,”
“My heat,” I whisper. Panic threatens to flood my veins as I curl up. “This is my heat.”
Oh, god.
I’m not ready for this.
“Kenny.” Oscar is kneeling beside me. “We prepared for this, remember? Everything is ready in your nest.”
A rough, needy sound pulls from my throat.
“That’s it,” he coaxes. “We’re taking you to your nest, right now.”
Jake’s hand wraps around my stomach, stroking the skin beneath my tee. And I arch into his touch, my neck stretching wide. “More.”
The fire grows. My entire body prickles with sweat, my breathing speeding up as Jake jumps up. His lips brush the side of my forehead, and I whine, leaning into him. It’s not enough. I don’t want gentle. Or soft.
My legs press together as my scent soaks the air. Jake’s grip tightens on me, and he takes the stairs two at a time. “Nearly there.”
“Empty.” My voice feels slurred. “I feel… empty. Hurts.”
Why does it hurt?
Jake sets me down against the soft blankets that line my nest. My eyes lower, fingers tangling in them. “Wait—,”
Not right. This isn’t right.
I hold up my hand, my lips curling back and a warning snarl rippling out as he lifts his foot. Jake freezes, his foot hovering in mid-air. “Not yet.”
“Kennedy.” I drop my eyes as Oscar steps up beside him. “You need us, baby. For your heat.”
I snap my teeth instead. “Not yet.”
He crouches, watching closely as my hands fly over my things. My bedding gets tossed, pushed, rearranged. I throw items behind me, tossing out one of my pillows and burying my face in another.
“Baby,” Oscar says softly from the door. “Tell me what you need from me so we can come inside.”
A small, broken sob sounds in my chest as I hold out the pillow. He looks… hazy. My vision swims. “Not right.”
And my voice is too low. Rasping, almost. “Fix it.”
I watch warily, shuffling back and watching as Oscar presses the pillow to his nose, breathing in. “It’s too new. Smells like… plastic, almost. Get her ours. All of them. Anything that’s soaked in our scent.”
More follows as I empty out half my nest in growing agitation. The emptier it gets, the worse I feel.
“We shouldn’t have gone shopping the other week,” Max mutters from the doorway. They’re all watching me now. Jake reappears with his hands full, holding them out to me.
I take them from his hand, and he vanishes again as I frown. Another snarl ripples as Theo reaches for the light. Our eyes meet.
My alpha snarls back. “Lights.”
Above me, little strings of lights flicker on. I assess them warily before offering him a short nod.
Another heavy, dragging pulse hits me in the abdomen. The space between my legs…clenches. Empty.
It’s all wrong. My nest is wrong. I want my alphas, but they can’t come in until it’s right.
It’s not right.
I bury my face in my hands, my breaths shuddering. Deep, spicy scent wraps around me. Arms wrap around me, and I snap my teeth close to Oscar’s throat. Very sharp teeth.
But he tightens his grip. “ Enough now, baby. We’re going to build you a pretty, soft nest. A good nest for your heat.”
I shrink back at the edge of a bark that overlays his words. But they capture my attention. Oscar shifts to the side, placing me down on a pillow. “Wait here. Don’t move.”
His lips press to mine, and then he’s gone. I wrap my arms around my stomach, fighting off that tugging feeling, shoving down the heat that prickles across my body as I watch my alphas, my lips pursed.
Layers. They work in layers. Max and Theo rearrange the toppers that line the floor, softening it as Jake collects blankets.
Oscar… is gone . Out of the nest.
My snarled complaint barely leaves my lips before he’s back. He raises an eyebrow at me before upturning the large, oversized basket in his hands.
Shirts. So many of them. All of them soft, warm, worn.
My fingers tangle in them as I beam at him. “Better.”
He looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “More?”
I follow him to the edge of the nest, waiting until he comes back with another basket. This one is all shirts too.
Theo’s hand settles on the back of my head, and I lean into him. “So that’s where all the shirts went. Good plan.”
My eyes turn heavy as I tilt against him. My stomach flips again, and my moan filters out. A spike of my own fear, bitter and twisted, follows.
No control. None . I barely have control of myself now, and with every second, I have a little less.
But they’re here. All of them.
They won’t let anything happen to me.
And I want them. I want their bites. I want them to bite me.
I close my eyes.
And I let myself fall.
I’m ready.