The scent hit me without warning, drifting through the air vent above my door like a virus. Pine. Deadly, sharp, and horrifying. My entire body went rigid in my nest, every muscle locking down as my brain screamed recognition before my conscious mind could catch up.
Bane.
The name echoed in my skull, and suddenly I wasn't in my safe nest anymore. I was back in the pack house, back in that room with the barred windows, and his hands were on me. Grabbing my wrists. Twisting my arm behind my back. His fist connecting with my stomach, over and over, while I begged him to stop, begged him to think about the baby.
The blood. There'd been so much blood.
My hands flew to my abdomen, pressing against the phantom pain that bloomed there. My breathing went shallow, rapid, and each inhale did not bring enough oxygen. The nest walls that had felt protective moments ago now felt like they were closing in, trapping me, and I couldn't remember where the exits were, couldn't remember how to move.
He'd found me. Somehow, he'd found me, and he was here, coming for me, and I couldn't run because my heat was starting and my body wouldn't obey and —
The pine scent grew stronger, seeping through the ventilation system, and I wanted to scream, but my throat hadclosed up. My vision darkened at the edges, tunneling until all I could see were my trembling hands pressed against my stomach. Protecting nothing. Too late. Always too late.
A sound cut through my panic. Soft at first, barely audible over my ragged breathing. Piano notes, gentle and deliberate, floating through the air from somewhere beyond my door. The melody was simple, a lullaby maybe, or something close to it. Each note fell like snowflakes, calm, and soothing, creating a rhythm that my chaotic pulse wanted to follow.
Lucian. That was Lucian playing. The realization penetrated my panic like light through thick curtains. He was responding to my distress, sending music instead of words, offering comfort without demanding I open my door or explain myself.
I focused on the notes, counting them, following their progression. Major chords, warm and reassuring. The tempo was deliberate, measured, like a heartbeat slowed to a calm rhythm. My breathing wanted to match it, and I let it, drawing air in, keeping time with the rising phrases, and releasing it with the falling ones.
The pine scent was still there, still making my skin crawl, but the music wrapped around me like a barrier. Something real and present, bringing me back to the here and now. My hands gradually unclenched from my stomach, fingers spreading flat against the fleece blanket instead.
Not then. Now. Safe. The penthouse. My nest.
Movement in my peripheral vision made me jerk my head toward the door. Kade and Theo stood in the doorway, not crossing the threshold, their bodies framed by the hallway light behind them. They weren't touching the doorframe, weren't leaning in, just standing there at a respectful distance. Watching me with expressions I couldn't quite read through my lingering panic.
Their scents reached me before either of them spoke. Oak and leather, strong and distinctly Alpha, rolling into my room like a tide. My biology responded immediately, some instinctive part of my brain cataloging them as safe, as pack, maybe?
“Your nest looks beautiful, Jasmine,” Kade said, his voice soft and careful. His oak scent intensified slightly, and I watched his hands flex at his sides like he wanted to reach for me but was restraining himself. “Really beautiful. You’ve done an amazing job.”
The compliment landed somewhere in my chest, warm and unexpected. I looked down at the nest I'd created, seeing it through their eyes. The careful arrangement of materials, the walls, and depth, the way I'd layered textures, included parts of them, and created a space that felt protected and mine.
Pride flickered through my remaining fear. I had done a good job. The nest was perfect for what I needed, and some part of me had known exactly how to build it despite never having had the safety to do so before.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and my voice came out rough from the panic that had closed my throat minutes ago.
Theo shifted his weight, and his leather scent grew stronger. “You chose all the right materials,” he said, his deep voice carrying approval. “Soft where it should be soft, structured where you need support. It's perfect, honey.”
The warmth in my chest expanded. They understood. Somehow, these Alphas understood the purpose and care that had gone into every choice I'd made, every pillow placement and blanket fold.
“May we come closer?” Kade asked, and the fact that he was asking, that he wasn't just striding in and taking what he wanted, made something crack open in my chest. “We won't enter your nest without permission. We just want to make sure you're alright.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice yet. They moved forward slowly, stopping a few feet from the edge. Close enough that their scents filled my room, overwhelming the lingering pine that had triggered my panic. Oak and leather wrapped around me, and my body responded with a wave of relief so intense it made me dizzy.
Kade's hazel-brown eyes tracked over my face, reading something there. “We scented your fear,” he said quietly. “Something triggered you.”
I couldn't tell them about the pine scent, couldn't explain that I'd somehow smelled Bane through the ventilation system. They'd think I was crazy, paranoid, letting my trauma create threats that weren't real. So, I just nodded, confirming that yes, something had scared me, leaving the details unspoken.
Theo's jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists before deliberately relaxing. “You're safe here,” he said, and the conviction in his voice made me want to believe him. “Nothing's going to hurt you. We won't let it.”
Their Alpha pheromones were doing something to me, something I didn't fully understand. Where Bane's scent had made me want to submit through fear, theirs made me want to trust. Made my body relax instead of freeze. Made the nest feel even safer because their protection surrounded it.
The confusion must have shown on my face because Kade's expression softened. “Alpha scents can be soothing to Omegas in heat,” he explained gently. “Especially from Alphas who mean you no harm. Your body knows you're safe with us, even if your mind is still learning to believe it.”
I pulled the gray fleece tighter around my shoulders, processing his words. My body did feel safer with them here, with their scents filling the room and pushing out anything that might threaten.
“The nest really is beautiful,” Kade said again, and his smile reached his eyes, making them warm. “You should be proud of what you've created.”
I was proud. The realization settled over me with gentle certainty. I'd built something wonderful, something that would keep me safe through my heat, and these Alphas recognized and respected that.
