When I reach the doorway, I pause, momentarily stunned by the scene before me.
Kai sits cross-legged in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a chaotic array of pillows, blankets, and what appear to be... nesting magazines? He looks up as I enter, his expression brightening.
“Perfect timing!” he exclaims, holding up two glossy pages. “Quick question: are you more pillow-dominant or blanket-dominant in your nesting style? Because these memory foam body pillows look amazing, but then there’s this weighted blanket that’s supposed to simulate an alpha’s embrace whenwe’re not around, which seems totally unnecessary since we’ll be here, but the reviews are stellar.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, easing some of the tension. “Are you seriously researching nesting styles right now?”
“Someone has to,” he says with mock seriousness. “You’ve too busy with the case to have time. Some of this stuff I had to special order weeks ago.”
“I think you care more about my nest than I do,” I observe, stepping into the room and immediately feeling calmer as I’m enveloped in the combined scents of my alphas.
Kai shrugs, looking slightly sheepish. “Just trying to resist the urge to convince you to spend your heat out in the woods.”
“In the woods?” I shiver, not entirely from revulsion. “With bugs and dirt and?—“
“And fresh air and privacy and primal energy,” he counters, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Very traditional.”
“Maybe next time,” I concede with a laugh. “For now, I really like those pillows you picked up from Caro’s last week.”
“The purple ones with the satin trim?” Kai asks, glancing toward the closet.
“They’re on the top shelf,” a deep voice rumbles, and I nearly jump out of my skin as Grayson rises from one of the couches where he’d been sitting so quietly I hadn’t even noticed him.
“How do you still keep doing that?” I demand, pressing a hand to my startled heart.
Grayson’s lips quirk in the barest hint of a smile as he moves to the closet. “Sorry.”
“Well, I bet sneaking up on me is going to be harder once we’re bonded,” I inform him pertly. “And yes, the purple ones.”
He wraps an arm around me from behind, pulling me against his chest. I let out of a squeak of surprise in response as my heartpounds faster. When he leans over me, it only highlights the relative difference in our sizes.
Scarred lips gently brush the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Good thing I like a challenge.”
Grayson reaches up effortlessly to retrieve the pillows, his t-shirt riding up to reveal a strip of tanned skin above his jeans. My mouth goes dry at the sight, and I quickly look away, almost disturbed by how strongly my body is already responding.
It’s starting, I think with a flutter of panic. It’s really starting.
I busy myself arranging the pillows Grayson hands me, trying to ignore the growing warmth spreading through my limbs. The pillows smell faintly of laundry soap and more strongly of my alphas—they’ve clearly been scent-marking them when I wasn’t paying attention.
The door opens again, and Noah enters, medical bag in hand. I groan at the sight.
“No,” I say firmly. “Absolutely not. Heats don’t require medical intervention.”
“This is only your second heat ever,” Noah points out reasonably, “and your first since coming offallmedication, including your suppressants. I just want to make sure?—“
“That I don’t spontaneously combust?” I finish for him, rolling my eyes.
He steps closer and lightly brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. His expression is tender, but serious. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of. I need to know that nothing bad will happen to you. Ever.”
My belly clenches, a curl of heat settling in the pit of my stomach. I lean into him as his arms come around me in a loose embrace. My lips brush his chest and even through his shirt, I know my mouth is mere millimeters away from the claiming bite. Finding it as instinctive, the mark practically like a homing beacon. In the last few days, he hasn’t been allowed to walkaround without his shirt on because just the sight of it is enough to distract me from whatever it is I’m doing.
“You do take care of me. Always. But I don’t want you in doctor mode right now.” I can’t resist the urge to press my teeth against the indent of the mark in his skin. A little thrill runs through me at the reminder it’s a perfect fit. “My blood pressure should be the last thing you’re thinking about.”
Noah’s breath hitches as my teeth press harder, but it isn’t a sound of pain. “Nothing can make me forget my concern for your wellbeing, Holly.”
I raise an eyebrow in challenge. “Nothing?”
I sink to my knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact as I reach for his belt. His pupils dilate, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by black.
