15. Opaline
Opaline
Consciousness pulls me awake, toes wiggling and hips stretching before my eyes even open.
Glancing around, I blink the sleep from my eyes, noting we're all in the nest. Darkness coats the walls, but even with the curtains closed, I know this deep stillness is the middle of the night; I don't need any confirmation from beyond the large window.
The pain and mindless need to be sexed up and bred are mostly gone.
Focusing on my body and leaning into the moment, the feeling of coming out of my first Heat is honestly strange.
The majority of it, I can't even…recall.
While the thought is unsettling, the panic never truly lands.
I know I was safe the entire time. Some bits and pieces, memories and moments, come to the forefront, but they're nearly foggy, like photos taken with a blurred lens.
A couple of moments in particular, like the memory of tasting Adrian and Everette together, send heat to the apex of my thighs intense enough to make me wonder if I'm truly out of the woods yet.
Yes, there's no doubt that my mates took care of my needs and kept the constant ache and pain at bay.
Breathing deeply to calm and stop myself from climbing atop whoever's closest, all of our combined scents fill my lungs, immediately easing my tension. My Heat may be over, but the comfort of my mates' signatures will always be a welcome peace and contentment.
I can feel the hum of Sage under my skin.
With a grin, I lean into our new connection, knowing he's directly at my side.
An attempt at turning to my right tugs on my hair.
With a wince, I turn back around, trying to gently pull my hair out from under Calder's substantial bicep.
My strands aren't soaked, but they are damp enough that it's clear someone took the care to bathe me.
A quick sniff test validates my suspicions.
A pang of sadness at the loss of their scents on my body sinks in my stomach before another wave of the truth of my vulnerability during my Heat.
The urge to feel embarrassed, angry, or really any negative emotion at the thought they bathed me…
just isn't there. All I can feel is gratitude for now having people around me I can fully trust in my most exposed, defenseless state.
Slowly, I free myself and turn to my new bonded.
The love I feel for this man comes rushing through me fast and hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Blinking them away, trying not to sniffle and make any noise that would wake my alphas, I watch the soft smile form on his face.
I can't help but wonder if maybe, even in sleep, he feels the depth of my love.
His side of the bond is more of a soft presence.
He's there, but I can feel that both he and Calder are peacefully asleep.
Limbs and bare skin are tangled and piled on top of each other all around me. As much as I want to stay put, the pressure on my bladder and the invisible pull calling me towards the door are too strong to ignore.
Like a surgeon sewing up a grape, I move as efficiently and slowly as I need to in order to exit my puppy pile without waking anyone. The details may be fuzzy, and I don't know exactly how much time passed, but I know with certainty that my alphas need to rest undisturbed.
After throwing on the first big shirt I can find and visiting the bathroom, I follow the little string that urges me downstairs. Luckily, it's leading me to the kitchen, because I'm pretty sure I could chug about a gallon of water right about now, too.
Open curtains and cracked windows prove it's night, if the utter silence of the house and my sleeping mates wouldn't have.
My bare feet hit the hard floor of the kitchen, and I tiptoe my way around the huge center island.
The substantial quiet is only interrupted by the very slight hum of their refrigerator and what sounds like a fan somewhere.
Despite the shadows and quiet of such a large house surrounded by forest and trees, I feel completely at ease on my own in the dark.
Padding along towards the cabinet I know houses the biggest glasses, I stop, a messy, wide array of stuff scattered over the huge kitchen island.
My eyes automatically scan the rest of the countertops and see little things placed randomly across their surfaces.
In the low lighting, it's hard to tell what it all is.
Seems a little unusual in the otherwise tidy, pristine space.
With a quick peek behind me, I make my way closer, confusion only growing. "What is all this?" I whisper to myself.
Stepping around the corner of the island, I tense, an entirely new, sickening surprise leaving me frozen in place. What…no…
Bare, exposed legs lie on the floor, unmoving.
Why…why…why are there legs on the floor?
My heart rate jumps quickly enough to make me dizzy, its pulse somehow hammering in my throat.
With a shaking hand, I grip the edge of the counter and step forward just enough to see the face of whoever these legs belong to, grey fading into the edges of my vision.
No, no, no… No… Adrian.
He's still, too still.
He sits propped up against the lower cabinets, legs crossed and stretched out in front of him, head back.
Lunging forward, I grab his face, racing to feel for a pulse on his neck.
The relief of finding his heartbeat is short-lived.
His eyes fly open, hands reaching and grabbing for me, like he doesn't know which way is up.
The gasp of air I suck in sends me toppling backward, scrambling.
"Opaline? What, what happened?" He looks around like he isn't the problem and the single source of my heart attack.
Falling back onto my ass, I huff in disbelief, trying to calm myself down before I wake up Calder or Sage with my anxiety and fright. "You scared the hell out of me! You were too still!" I whisper-hiss, hand over my heart.
"Too still?" He rubs his hand down his face, like he's trying to wake himself up and get a grip on reality.
"Yes, too still. What the heck are you doing on the floor in the kitchen." I groan. "Beds and couches are a thing, you know," I mutter, exhaustion hitting again after the wave of adrenaline, mirroring his motions and rubbing the sides of my face.
His shoulders start to bounce in quiet laughter, and soon I follow, not able to stop myself once my heart settles.
The smile he gives me lights up his weary face in the most beautiful way.
The reminder of how new whatever this is between us, is, fills the space as silence falls.
I don't know what to expect now, how to act entirely.
In our last moments together, he'd revealed his heartbreaking past. My brows furrow at a memory just out of reach, making me wonder if that actually was our last interaction before my Heat.
A glimpse of him and his distraught face as I'm being carried away hits, only adding to the confusion.
With a sigh, I settle my weight, stretching out my own legs, and lean against the opposite row of cabinets, so we're facing each other.
The coarseness of his leg hair tickles my own, and I'll be damned, even that featherlight touch inexplicably seems to send the right kind of ache to the best spots.
The sensation stands as none other than the very real reminder I am, in fact, not totally out of the woods.
Keeping my eyes averted, I shift slightly to remove the teasing touch. The stretch of silence isn't entirely uncomfortable. Not like it was before, like it used to be between us. The simultaneous urge to word vomit a million things and keep completely silent is at odds internally.
"How are you feeling, little one?" His soft voice reaches my ears, nearly hesitant.
Taking inventory of my body, I feel the sudden weight of all I'd put it through. In a word, I feel utterly exhausted. I tell him as much. I'm sore, tired, my throat feels scratchy, and the ache between my thighs is now an entirely different ache.
Pushing himself to standing, he starts rummaging and looking for something, pulling down a mug and a couple of boxes of tea bags. With muttered words of relief under his breath, he also pulls out a jar of honey.
I watch with rapt fascination as he moves so gracefully, given his height and size.
He isn't as big as our lead, but he's pretty damn close.
And seeing more and more of this gentle side of him is doing things to my heart.
I'm not sure I can blame the lingering Heat hormones on everything.
My chest tightens thinking about everything he had to have done to care for us.
No wonder he's asleep on the kitchen floor; he's probably exhausted too, running on fumes.
His strong arm reaches forward to stop the microwave before the timer can beep, a big steaming mug of hot water set on the counter.
Watching, caught under the spell of his muscular frame and outdoorsy scent, I try to decide what to do, what to say, where to take this.
Standing, I eye everything still sitting on the island. "What is all this stuff?"
With a quick glance back at me before spinning back to the task at hand, he clears his throat, turning as if trying to hide his face.
"It's, uh. I mean, I thought it might be nice to have a recovery kit for you.
After…you…I mean, I figured you might be sore.
Anyway." He moves the fresh cup of tea onto the counter near me, eyes cast downward, jaw tense. "Here."
Looking back at the items, it's clear now exactly what it is.
My hands land on each thing, a cloud of emotion growing in my chest and rising into my throat the more I learn.
Muscle rub, a heating pad for the stomach, silk shorts, healing bath bombs and salts.
Even cooling wipes and a witch hazel cream to help with my tender intimate areas.
Each one sounds more wonderful than the last. "I can't believe you did all this.
" The words are a choked whisper, nearly edging into a whine at the overwhelm of his thoughtfulness.
I can practically hear the creaking of the countertop as Adrian grips it to stop himself from coming to soothe me, just at the sound of my partial whine. The action only adds to everything coursing through me.
Any wariness at his intentions and the truth of his devotion to our new relationship starts to crumble.
Maybe not entirely. But this is proof I didn't even know I needed.
Actions speak louder than words, and this one's undeniable.
If it's an indication of what's to come, I can't wait for what's next.
I can't help myself. I know this is so new, and it's like we're both unsure of where to go from here.
Given that he refused to participate in my Heat for seemingly noble reasons, and the fact he's actively holding himself back right now, I have a feeling he won't be the one to initiate any form of real contact.
While my primal is sated and satisfied sexually, I still have undeniable urges for cuddling and touch.
Those biceps and pecs are calling to me, too. I need him.
Without letting myself think too hard about it, I wrap my arms around his waist, pushing my way between the counter and his body. It takes a second, but finally, I feel his arms wrap around me, cradling me, his nose ducking to the scent gland on my neck, nuzzling into the space there.
"Adrian…" I start, not really sure how to convey the depth of what I'm feeling and how grateful I am.
"Thank you. So much. For the gifts and…just, everything.
I can't imagine how difficult it must've been for you to take care of our pack, running the entire business yourself, and still find time to sleep and take care of yourself. "
Recalling his admissions, this is almost exactly what he had also done for his previous love. Running himself ragged and into the ground to care for those around him.
Leaning back, I trace my finger over his chest in front of me, afraid to look up and meet his eyes just yet.
It's easier this way, talking to a wall of his bare skin.
"And then…" I suck in a breath, shaking my head.
"And then, you denied your very instinct and fought your primal to do the right thing by not participating in my Heat," I whisper, tears lining my lashes.
"I'm so grateful you were here for us…I cannot thank you enough, alpha.
" I can feel the pause, the tension lining his muscles with everything he can't voice.
But rough hands cradle my face, carrying my chin upwards, those stormy, bright amber eyes boring into mine under furrowed brows.
Seconds pass, his mouth moving and opening, like he can't figure out exactly what he wants to say or can't push the words out.
I don't want to add any more stress to the mountain he's surely still carrying.
With a gentle smile, I simply lay my head to his chest, arms wrapping around him.
I'm not sure how long we stay like this, finding comfort in the other.
But eventually, bordering on slipping into sleep, my weight is wrapped around his waist. "Rest, I've got you.
" His words are softer than a whisper, but the depth of his truth is undeniable.
Walking down the stairs into the living room, he settles us onto the large couch so I'm lying on his chest.
The last thing I feel before falling asleep is the broken and rugged purr under me, finding its life in my mate's chest.