"There's a lock on the door." Sawyer's voice was rough, and when I pulled back from Kol to look at him, his pale eyes were bright with unshed tears, his jaw tight with the effort of containing them. "On the inside. You can lock it whenever you want, and no one can come in without your permission. Not even us."
Something cracked open in my chest—something that had been locked tight my whole life, some defensive wall I'd built so high and so strong I'd forgotten it was there.
"You're giving me a room I can lock you out of?" My voice came out confused, disbelieving, my brow furrowing as I tried to make sense of it.
"We're giving you a space that's entirely yours." Reid's voice was fierce, his dark eyes burning with intensity that made my breath catch. "Your nest is sacred. We would never enter without invitation, but we wanted you to have the physical ability to keep us out if you needed to. Wanted you to know—to really know—that this is yours."
I looked around the room again, at the beautiful shelves Sawyer had built with his own scarred hands, at the soft blankets Nolan had researched and chosen with care, at the pretty fabrics Kol had picked because he thought I deserved velvet, at the entire concept Reid had dreamed up and made real.
For me. They'd done all of this for me.
"I've never had anything like this." The words came out raw, scraped from somewhere deep, my voice cracking on every syllable. "I've never had a space that was mine. Never had people who wanted to give me things without expecting something in return." I looked at each of them in turn—Reid's steady strength, Nolan's gentle wisdom, Sawyer's fierce protectiveness, Kol'soverwhelming warmth. "I don't know how to be someone who has this."
"You learn." Nolan's voice was soft, his hand finding mine and squeezing gently, his green eyes bright with tears and hope. "We'll teach you. However long it takes."
"Can I—" I stopped, swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "Can I look at everything?"
"It's yours." Reid's voice was rough with emotion, his dark eyes soft. "You can do whatever you want." They spread out around the room as I began to explore, giving me space while staying close enough that I could feel their presence, their scents a comforting backdrop to my discovery. I walked to the shelves first, running my fingers over the smooth wood Sawyer had sanded and stained. The texture was perfect—solid and real, crafted with obvious care, warm beneath my fingertips.
"You made these." I looked at Sawyer, my voice wondering, my fingers still tracing the grain of the wood. "With your hands."
"Yeah." His voice was rough, his ears going red beneath his copper hair, his pale eyes dropping away from mine. "Worked on them at night, after everyone was asleep. Wanted them to be right."
I moved on to the fabrics, touching each one with trembling fingers. The velvet was impossibly soft, like touching liquid, the flannel worn and comfortable like an old friend, the fleece like touching a cloud. There were textures I didn't even have names for—silky things and fuzzy things and things that seemed to change under my fingers as I touched them.
"Kol." My voice cracked on his name. "How long did it take you to find all of this?"
"A few weeks." He was hovering nearby, his amber eyes anxious like he was waiting for approval, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I wanted variety, you know? Different textures for different moods. And the colors—I tried to pick things thatwould go together but also things that would make you happy. Do you like them? If you don't like something, we can?—"
I pulled him into a hug, cutting off his rambling, my arms wrapping tight around his waist.
"I love them." My voice was muffled against his shoulder, fierce despite the tears still streaming down my face. "I love all of them."
Kol made a sound that was half laugh, half sob, and hugged me back so tight I could barely breathe, his arms crushing me against his chest, his face buried in my hair. When I pulled away, I moved to the blankets on the shelves, touching the ones Nolan had chosen. They were incredibly soft—softer than anything I'd ever felt, like touching nothing and everything at once, like my fingers were sinking into comfort itself.
"Medical-grade?" I looked at Nolan, curious despite my tears, my fingers still buried in the impossible softness.
"There's research on Omega comfort." His voice was soft, his green eyes bright with emotion, his freckled face flushed with pleasure at my reaction. "Certain textures, certain materials, certain levels of softness that are optimal for nesting. I wanted to make sure you had the best."
"You researched." I was crying again, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks, my voice cracking. "You researched what would be best for me."
"Of course I did." Nolan's voice cracked slightly, his green eyes going glassy with tears he was fighting to contain. "You deserve the best, Aster. You deserve someone paying attention to what you need."
I moved finally to the nest platform itself—the massive, beautiful space in the corner that Reid had designed. I climbed onto it carefully, my bare feet sinking into the plush surface, feeling the give of the mattress beneath me, the softness of theblankets already layered there. It was like sinking into a cloud, like being held by something impossibly gentle.
"Reid." My voice was barely a whisper, cracked and raw. I looked at him where he stood at the edge of the room, his dark eyes soft and vulnerable, his hands loose at his sides like he was forcing himself not to reach for me. "You planned this. Since the week I arrived."
"The moment I saw you." His voice was rough, barely audible, his jaw tight with emotion. "Feral and scared and ready to run. I knew you'd never had anyone take care of you. Never had a proper home, a proper nest." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I wanted to give you one. Even if you left, even if you decided we weren't your pack—I wanted you to have this, at least once. Wanted you to know what it felt like to be provided for."
I held out my hand to him, my fingers trembling, and he came—crossing the room slowly, his boots silent on the plush carpet, climbing onto the nest platform beside me, his weight dipping the mattress. I pulled him down until we were lying face to face, my hand on his cheek, his dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my heart stutter.
"You saw me." My voice cracked, tears still streaming down my temples into my hair. "That first day in the barn. You saw me, and you decided to do this."
"I saw you." His voice was fierce, his hand coming up to cover mine on his cheek, his fingers warm and calloused. "And I decided that no matter what happened, I was going to make sure you knew what it felt like to be safe."
I kissed him.
It was soft, brief—just a press of my lips against his, tasting salt from my tears and something warm underneath, something that felt like coming home. He made a sound low in his throat, his hand sliding from my cheek to the back of my neck, cradlingmy head gently, but he didn't deepen it. Just held me there, our lips barely touching, breathing the same air.
