A growl rumbled up from my chest, low and warning, and I snatched my hand back like the pillow had burned me. Kol froze, his expression shifting from excitement to confusion.
"Aster?" His voice was careful, uncertain, his scent dimming with concern.
"I'm sorry." The words came out choked, horror flooding through me at the sound I'd made, at the feral instinct that had reared up without warning. "I don't know why I — I didn't mean to?—"
"Hey, hey." Kol set the pillow down on the dresser, his movements slow and deliberate, his voice softening to something soothing. "It's okay. It's instinct. You're not supposed to accept things directly during nesting, right? You need to gather them yourself."
I stared at him, shame and confusion warring in my chest.
"How do you know that?" My voice came out small, bewildered.
"I read about it." He shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips, his scent warming again. "When we first realized what you were, I did research. Wanted to understand. Nesting is... it's sacred. Personal. You need to build it yourself, with items you choose. We can offer things, leave them for you, but we can't hand them to you or put them in place. It has to be you."
Tears spilled over before I could stop them, the understanding in his voice breaking something loose in my chest.
"I don't know what I'm doing." The admission came out broken, vulnerable, my hands twisting in the hem of Reid's shirt. "I've never done this before. The suppressants always stopped it and now it's all just — it's instinct and I can't control it and I growled at you?—"
"And that's okay." Kol's voice was gentle but firm, his body staying still, giving me space even though I could see the urge to comfort warring in his expression. "I'm not hurt. I'm not offended. You're an Omega in the middle of nesting — growling at people who get too close to your space is literally the most normal thing you could do."
Nolan appeared in the doorway, a thick fleece blanket in his arms — his blanket, I could smell it, pine and antiseptic and something warm underneath.
"I brought this." He set it on the floor just inside the room, not approaching further, his voice calm and professional. "From my bed. It's the softest one I have."
Sawyer was behind him, silent as always, a worn flannel shirt clutched in his hands. He didn't say anything, just set it on top of Nolan's blanket and stepped back, his expression unreadable but his scent carrying notes of something soft. Something like hope.
Reid returned with more supplies — blankets from the closet, pillows from the guest room, clothes from the laundry basket that hadn't been washed yet. He added them to the growing pile just inside the doorway, then stepped back to join the others.
Four Alphas, standing at the threshold of the room, offering me everything they had.
"Take what you need." Reid's voice was soft, encouraging, his dark eyes warm. "We'll wait."
I approached the pile slowly, my instincts guiding me now, the chaos in my head settling into something that felt almost like peace. I picked up Sawyer's flannel first — his scent wascomforting, grounding, earth and leather and quiet strength. Then Nolan's blanket, soft and warm and smelling of safety. Then Kol's pillow, sunshine and cinnamon, joy in fabric form.
I carried each item to the bed, arranging them with careful deliberation. The blankets went down first, creating a soft base. Then the shirts, tucked around the edges, their scents creating a barrier of pack. The pillows went in specific spots — I didn't know why those spots, just that they were right.
Reid's shirt came off my body and went into the nest, in the very center. Then I looked at him, standing in the doorway, watching me with an expression of such tender wonder it made my chest ache.
"Come here." My voice was softer now, the frantic edge fading, replaced by something warm and settled. "I need you in the center. The rest of it... it builds around you."
He moved slowly, carefully, letting me guide him onto the bed, into the nest. He settled where I put him, his body going pliant and willing, letting me arrange him like another piece of the puzzle.
"Now the rest of you." I looked at the others, still hovering in the doorway. "I need you close. But..." I hesitated, the words hard to find. "Let me place you. Don't just... I need to do it."
They came one at a time, letting me guide them into the nest, letting me arrange them around Reid. Kol on one side, his warmth and brightness a comfort. Nolan on the other, his steadiness an anchor. And Sawyer at the foot, his solid presence a guard.
I crawled into the center, into the space they'd left for me, surrounded on all sides by pack. Their scents mingled together — cedar and sunshine and pine and earth — creating something new, something whole. Something that smelled like home. Tears came again, but different this time. Not confusion or shame, but something overwhelming and beautiful. Relief. Belonging.
"This is pack." Reid's voice was rough with emotion, his arm coming around my waist, pulling me closer. "This is what you deserve. What you've always deserved."
"You did good." Sawyer's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but the words hit me like a physical blow. "Both of you. The rut, the nesting... you did good."
Kol's purr joined Reid's, then Nolan's, then — impossibly — a low rumble from Sawyer that I'd never heard before. Four purrs, four heartbeats, four scents, all wrapped around me like the warmest blanket.
I closed my eyes, let the exhaustion finally win, let myself sink into the safety of the nest I'd built. They were mine. And I was theirs. My instincts weren't something to fear. They weren't something to suppress, to fight, to be ashamed of.
They were leading me home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
