Because of course he does.
Mr. Darcy hates everyone. He hated my neighbor. He hated the UPS guy so much the man refused to deliver to my building anymore. He once stared at a houseguest for six hours straight without blinking, which I’m pretty sure violates the Geneva Convention.
But Nate? Nate he loves. Instant, inexplicable devotion from a cat who’s never shown devotion to anyone, including me, the person who feeds him.
Theo’s face falls. “Oh, come on. That cat’s been here twelve hours and he still acts like I don’t exist.”
“Cats can smell desperation.” Nate scratches behind Mr. Darcy’s ears. The cat’s purring rivals his own. Two big predators just rumbling at each other in the kitchen.
“I’m not desperate, I’m friendly.”
“Same thing to a cat.”
“I’m a delight. I’m a ray of sunshine. Ask anyone.” Theo crouches down, extending a hand toward Mr. Darcy. “Hey, buddy. We can be friends. I’m very likeable.”
Mr. Darcy looks at Theo’s hand, looks at Theo’s face, and turns away with visible contempt.
“That cat is broken,” Theo announces.
“That cat has standards,” Nate says. Mr. Darcy settles into his lap like a smug orange loaf and closes his eyes. Traitor.
I try to eat, but the cramps are coming faster now. Every few minutes, another wave, and I have to grip the edge of the table until it passes.
Lucas’s hand covers mine. “Back to the nest.”
Nate scoops me up before I can argue.
The nest room is better.
Their scents are concentrated here, layered into every blanket and pillow, and I sink into the softness gratefully. Nate settles behind me, pulling me against his chest.
“Let us help,” he murmurs against my neck.
Another cramp rolls through me and I whimper. Slick pulses between my thighs—I’m soaked through my underwear already, have been since breakfast.
“Please,” I manage. “I need?—”
Theo’s hand slides down my stomach. “We know what you need.”
His fingers slip under the waistband of my pants, and I gasp when he finds how wet I am. He groans, low and hungry.
“Fuck, Cara. You’re dripping.”
“Pre-heat,” Lucas says, but his voice is strained. He’s pressed against my front now, his cool hand sliding up under my shirt. “Her body’s preparing.”
“I know what it is.” Theo’s fingers slide through my folds, slow and teasing. “I’m just appreciating it.”
I make a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a moan. Then his thumb finds my clit and the laugh dies in my throat.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “Let us take care of you.”
Behind me, Nate’s purr kicks up. Through the bond, I feel his satisfaction—watching his pack take care of me, feeling my pleasure echo through our connection. His hand slides up to cup my breast, thumb brushing my nipple through my bra.
“More,” I gasp. “Theo, please?—”
He pushes two fingers inside me and I cry out. The stretch is exactly what I needed, the cramp easing as my body finally gets something to clench around. He fucks me slow with his fingers, curling them to hit that spot that makes my vision blur.
Lucas captures my mouth, swallowing my moans. His kiss is controlled, deliberate—so different from Theo’s playful energy or Nate’s intensity. He kisses like he’s cataloging every response, learning exactly what makes me gasp.
