My nest calls to me, and I stumble toward it, burrowing into the blankets and pillows that smell like me, like safety.
But everything feels different now.
I can still feel Malik’s hand on my waist, steadying me. Can still see Jalen’s surprised expression when I started tending his cut. Can still hear Cole’s quiet thanks, Dax’s concern.
They were worried about me.
They helped me back to my room.
They said thank you like they meant it.
I pull a pillow against my chest, my fever-fuzzy brain trying to process what just happened.
The Knightley Pack is supposed to be guys I hate. Guys who steal my events and make my professional life difficult.
But just now?
Just now, they were four people who got concerned when I appeared. Who noticed I was shaking. Who made sure I got back to my room safely.
And Jalen, even when he was bleeding and in pain, had looked at me with wonder and said, “You didn’t have to do this.”
Like the idea of someone taking care of him was foreign.
Like he wasn’t used to it.
I curl up tighter in my nest, the realization settling over me like the blankets.
They’re not just rivals anymore.
They’re not just the Knightley Pack, the guys who make my life difficult, the alphas I’m supposed to compete against.
They’re Cole, who makes terrible jokes to lighten the mood.
They’re Dax, who swept up broken glass and worried about me being in heat.
They’re Malik, who noticed I was shaking and helped me back without making it weird.
They’re Jalen, who tried to insist he was fine even while bleeding, who looked surprised that I’d help.
They’re people.
Real, complicated, surprisingly kind people.
And I have no idea what to do with that.
My omega has some ideas, but those ideas are terrible and involve zero boundaries and way too much alpha proximity.
“We are not thinking about that,” I tell the darkness of my room.
But as I drift into an uneasy, feverish sleep, I can’t quite make the thought go away.
Something has shifted.
And I’m not sure I can shift it back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cole
