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?
Chapter thirty-two
Felix
I sit on the bench between the rows of lockers. Silas leans against the wall by the showers, arms crossed, while Liam sits on the bench across from me. All shirtless.
Yes, in our urgency to give us space, we really just got funneled to the hallway that connects the chalet to our private rink. Waiting in our rooms would probably have been more comfortable, but I guess at least, she has the whole chalet to herself now and there's zero chance we're going to disturb her.
"How long do we wait?" I ask.
Silas pushes off the wall. "We should move closer to the corridor. See if we can hear anything. Know when she's—"
The door bursts open.
Naomi stands there, backlit by the rink lights, wearing a simple tank top and underwear. She looks… breathtaking. And feral, but that's sexy as hell. Her hair is wild, her chest heaving, and her eyes are dark and hungry, fixed on us with predatory focus.
"Found you, alphas," she breathes, and the words come out rough, needy. "Tend to me. Now."
"Oh my God, Angel," I start, stepping forward. "Don't get cold, you—"
"Tend. Now."
Well, okay then. You got it, Angel.
I reach her first and her mouth crashes against mine with desperate hunger. She tastes like heat and need and mine, and she's so hot. No wonder she seems immune to cold right now. My hands are already pulling her closer, sliding under the jersey to find bare skin.
She makes a sound, half whimper, half growl, and then Liam is there, his hands on her waist, his mouth on her neck. She arches between us, and I can feel the heat radiating from her skin.
"Here?" Silas asks, his voice strained, moving to join us. "You want us here?"
"Here," Naomi confirms, already reaching for him. "Now. I need—"
She doesn't need to finish.
