Her fingers twist into the blanket. “There’s a little in here, but it’s not enough. I woke up and I had… a bit of a meltdown.”
“Okay.” Hudson settles himself down. “So how do we do this?”
She bites her lip. “Could I… have some of your clothes?”
Her eyes slide to Axel’s hoodie.
“And maybe a pillow?” she asks forlornly.
Oh, kitten.
“You can have whatever you want,” I say firmly. “Come on.”
Holding out my hand, I pull her up when she takes it. Keeping her hand wrapped around mine, I walk her out of the nest and to my room, Cade and Hudson trailing behind us.
Pushing open my door, I spread my arm out. “What would you prefer?” I ask her. “Want me to pick, or would you rather choose?”
Her fingers twitch as she steps forward.
“I can choose?” she asks me hesitantly.
“Anything you like. Whatever will make you feel better.”
I watch as Gabrielle sidles in, glancing over her shoulder at us uncertainly before she moves over to the bed and picks up my pillow. She sniffs at it, before she wraps her arms around it and turns to me.
“This one?”
“Definitely.” I lean down, picking up the shirt I wore yesterday. “What about this?”
Her eyes lock onto it, and she makes grabby hands that makes someone cough behind me to hide their laugh.
We follow her from room to room, watching in growing amusement as Gabrielle slowly disappears under a pile of pillows and clothing that she refuses to hand over. Axel arrives during the mayhem, his eyes widening as he tries to follow what’s going on, Cade hissing to him under his breath.
Finally, we all collapse in Gabrielle’s nest, watching her happily stack various shirts, hoodies and pillows around the room. She throws herself back, burying herself in them with a deep inhale.
“I feel better now,” she says, her head popping up.
Bracing myself, I broach the subject that’s been floating around my head as I’ve watched her.
“Kitten,” I say carefully. “Do you think… you might be close to your heat?”
The room goes silent, everyone swiveling towards Gabrielle, whose ears have turned bright pink.
“It… might be possible,” she says guardedly. “I don’t know.”
“I thought you needed to be Bonded to have a heat?” Hudson asks.
She turns to face him. “Bonded?”
She looks so uncertain that my chest aches, realization of exactly how little knowledge she has hitting us all. When I open my arms to her, she scrambles into them without hesitation, curling up on my lap like a cat.
Cade picks up the explanation.
“Have you ever heard of a mating bond?”
“Like a bitemark?”
Cade shakes his head. “A mating bond is something else. Bitemarks are what the Omega Compound used to keep omegas in line when they were sent to packs. The omega would be bitten, but it was one-sided. It was about control, nothing else.”
