The thought grates against my skin, making me want to tear my flesh off mybones.
I barely notice the drive to the stables.
“The hell did you do to him?” A voice growls. My head jerks up, and I see Ash’s face pressed up against the door.
I think he’s the closest thing to a friend I have here. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. I’m glad he looks like he’s doing alright.
“Did you drug him?” Ash asks, glaring at Rowan. “This is the calmest I’ve ever fucking seen him.”
“He understands everything people say, so we just had to talk to him a bit,” Mira says, hopping off the ATV and rounding the trailer to wave at me through the bars of the cage. “We’re gonna get you out now!”
“You going to cause any trouble?” Rowan asks, dragging open the heavy, reinforced metal door of my stable.
I give him a single shake of my head.
“Hey man, my name’s Griffin, nice to meet you,” another voice calls. My gaze jerks to the stable across from Ash and mine, and I see a new face.
“This is the other new fighter I mentioned!” Mirabelle says, waving a hand between us. “Now you’ve met everyone on the team.”
Team.
Because apparently, now we’re a team.
It’s a little scary. Anything new is a little scary.
But I’ll be a part of anything, as long as it’s something with Mirabelle.
CHAPTER 24
Mirabelle
“Can I open my eyes yet?” I say, still facing towards the corner of Rowan’s little kitchen, away from the living room.
“Not yet!” Rowan huffs as he sets something down on the couch.
“You’re making an awful lot of noise. I’m so curious now!” I grumble.
“I just didn’t expect there to be so much stuff!” He mutters under his breath. “Okay, you can look now.”
I spin around, blinking my eyes so they adjust.
“Oh my God!” I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.
Piled on top of the couch are neat, crinkly plastic cases full of what look to be a variety of fresh blankets and pillows. There are a few extra fuzzy-looking blankets he’s neatly arranged, too. It’s like an omega’s nesting dream.
“Is this—is this all for me?” I ask, my voice a strained whisper.
“Course it is, Sugar. Who else would it be for?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “It took a while to ship here, but these kits came highly rated, so I just got afew different ones. Why don’t you come over here and give ‘em a feel and tell me whether you like ‘em. I can always return them if?—“
I throw myself around him, my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.
“Oof,” he breathes out, his hands coming to grip my thighs as he takes an unsteady step back, bumping into the stack of vinyl bags.
I should probably be a bit more careful, considering the fact that his black eye has only recently faded and his ribs are still a little sore. But I can’t help it.
In the past two and a half weeks since that day I made my first attempt at a nest, I’ve moved my nest to Rowan’s room. He insisted I sleep in his bed instead of on the floor next to the couch.
Because he’s insisted on sleeping out on the couch, to my disappointment, he hasn’t shared my nest since.
