"She's out." Kol's voice was barely above a whisper, his free hand gesturing me closer, his amber eyes warm in the low light. "Fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow."
I settled onto the edge of the nest, careful not to disturb her, my eyes tracing the peaceful lines of her face, the way her lips were slightly parted, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.
"She's safe." Kol continued, his voice still soft, his amber eyes meeting mine with unusual gravity, his arm tightening protectively around her waist. "We're going to keep her that way."
"Yes." I agreed, my voice rough with emotion, my green eyes holding his. "We are."
I lay down on her other side, close enough to feel her warmth, to breathe in her scent mingled with Kol's and the lingering traces of Reid and Sawyer. The nest smelled like pack, like home, like everything I'd ever wanted and never thought I'd have.
Aster stirred slightly, making a soft sound, and without waking she reached out and found my hand, her fingers threading through mine with the unconscious trust of someone who knew, even in sleep, that she was safe.
I held on tight and let myself believe it.
Whatever came next, whatever Easton Branston tried, we would face it together.
This pack protected its own…..and Aster was ours.
CHAPTER THIRTY
ASTER
I couldn't sleep. It had been a week since Easton's encounter, a week of jumping at shadows and flinching at unexpected sounds, a week of my Alphas surrounding me with protective fury that should have made me feel safe but instead made me feel like a burden.
The pack room was quiet, the nest empty except for me. Reid was doing a final check of the perimeter — something he'd started doing every night since Easton. Sawyer was with him, silent and watchful. Kol had finally gone to bed after I'd assured him three times that I was fine, that I just needed some time alone to think.
I wasn't fine. But I didn't know how to explain the restlessness crawling under my skin, the way my body felt too tight for itself, the ache that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with need.
The clinic light was on.
I could see it from the window of the pack room — a soft glow cutting through the darkness, steady and warm. Nolan. Heoften worked late, catching up on paperwork or researching new treatments, his dedication to his work as much a part of him as his gentle hands and calming scent.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I was pulling on one of Kol's oversized t-shirts and padding barefoot across the yard. The clinic door was unlocked. I pushed it open, the familiar smell of antiseptic and eucalyptus wrapping around me, and found Nolan at his desk, bent over a stack of papers, his sandy hair falling across his forehead.
He looked up when I entered, his green eyes softening immediately, concern flickering across his features as he took in my appearance — the oversized shirt, the bare feet, the way I was hugging myself like I might fall apart.
"Aster." His voice was gentle, questioning, as he pushed back from his desk, his whole body orienting toward me like a flower toward sunlight, his brow furrowing with worry. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I couldn't sleep." The words came out smaller than I intended, my voice catching on something that felt dangerously close to tears, my arms tightening around myself. "I just... I needed..."
I didn't know how to finish the sentence. I didn't know what I needed. Just that the ache inside me was growing, and Nolan's scent — eucalyptus and honey, calm and safe — was the only thing that seemed to quiet it.
"Come here." He held out his hand, his green eyes warm and patient, no judgment in his expression, only gentle invitation, his voice dropping to something soft and coaxing. "Come here, sweetheart."
The endearment broke something loose in my chest, and I crossed the room on unsteady legs, letting him pull me into his lap, letting his arms wrap around me, letting his scent envelope me until I could breathe again.
"I've got you." His voice was a murmur against my hair, his hand stroking down my back in long, soothing passes, his chest vibrating with a purr so soft I could barely hear it but could feel it everywhere we touched. "I've got you. You're safe."
"I know." I pressed my face against his neck, breathing him in, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, my voice muffled against his skin. "I know I'm safe. That's not... it's not fear. It's something else."
He pulled back just enough to look at my face, his green eyes searching mine with that quiet intensity that always made me feel seen in ways I couldn't quite explain, his thumb tracing along my jaw.
"What is it?" His touch was gentle and questioning, his brow furrowed with concern, his voice soft. "Tell me what you need, Aster. Whatever it is."
"I don't know." The admission came out frustrated, my hands tightening on his shirt, my body shifting restlessly in his lap, heat prickling under my skin. "I feel... wound up. Like there's something inside me that needs to get out, and I can't figure out how to release it."
Something shifted in his expression — understanding dawning, his pupils dilating slightly, his scent warming with something that made heat pool low in my belly, his hand sliding from my jaw to cup the back of my neck.
"I think I know what you need." His voice had dropped lower, rougher, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin at my nape, his green eyes darkening as they held mine. "But I need you to tell me. I need to hear you say it."
