“Have you been nesting more than usual lately?” I ask, and Beau frowns, looking away from me.
“I’ve never nested…” he whispers. The sound of my gasp is drowned out by two sets of Alpha growls, which for Apollo morphs into a fit of coughing. He looks genuinely perplexed by his own reaction. I’d probably try to dig into that deeper if I wasn’t so focused on Beau.
“Never? Not even once?” I climbed into my nest this morning while I sipped my first cup of coffee of the day.
Nests are essential to an Omega’s sanity. I’ve spent years making mine the perfect sanctuary. It’s one of my favorite places to be. Beau’s face contorts with a look of shame, and his scent sours further. Without meaning to, I wrinkle my nose and try to expel the smell. If I offend him, he hides it well.
“Do you have any instincts—shit, that sounded rude.” I cringe but continue on, “I was just trying to ask if you take meds that make you numb or something?”
I need to understand what’s happening with this poor sweet Omega.
No nest? That’s tragic.
“I have them, but I try to ignore them as much as I can. The more I give in, the faster I burn through my suppressors. My scent is chemically altered, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. I perfumed just before my eighteenth birthday, and within hours, my father already had me in a clinic being pumped full of drugs.”
“I don’t get it. Why would he want you to hide as a Beta?” I shake my head, unable to guess his father’s motivation. That’s when Apollo’s words click, and I look up at him. He’s staring at Beau, pale as a ghost, with wide eyes.
“It’s a vulnerability,” Thor says gently, and I get the strange urge to breathe in his scent. I bet it would be very soothing right about now. Too bad he hides it while working. “Even if he doesn’t value you, he sees you as an extension of his power. If someone other than him hurt you, that would reflect badly onthat power and control. As a Beta, you’re…” the big Alpha trails off with a shrug.
“You’re less desirable, less vulnerable. Harder for someone else to control,” Apollo says it for him, and we all sit in the silent reality for a long moment. My mind chases the rabbit hole of what if, and I can’t help but catastrophize—can’t help but search for the other worst possible reasons.
What if he’s doing it to make Beau’s first heat really fucking bad so he can sell him?
I’ve seen that before. I know it’s happened. A chill runs down my spine at the possibility.
“Are you all sure that’s the only reason?” I murmur, panic tightening my chest as my past tries to take over in the present. “What if his intentions are worse than that?” I swallow thickly, staring at a fixed location on the wall as my thoughts unravel. “He forced Apollo to present early, and I know what some of the Omegas in Whitehill went through. What they endured. What if he’s planning something much worse for Beau? What if he wanted you compliant all this time, not simply so he could control you but because he’s planning something really fucking bad?”
The silence that fills the room is fucking suffocating.
Why isn’t anyone answering? Why aren't they telling me I’m being paranoid?
When my eyes lock with Apollo, all the air in my lungs leaves me in a huff. I’m not paranoid. I’ve just seen the same evils he has. What people with unchecked power are capable of.
He sees me. Sees into me.
That look, the one turning Apollo from devastating to pure fury, it’s the look I’ve spent all my life searching for in someone else's eyes. It clicks that I’m not alone anymore.
“Apollo,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes as the lump in my throat chokes back my words and pain tightens my chest.
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even blink. He just keeps his eyes locked on me.
My scent reacts all on its own, flooding the room with rose petal desire. I can feel my slick dampening my thong, and I have to shift my weight so I don’t start rubbing my thighs together. I’m not sure that’s the appropriate response in a moment like this, but it’s happening all the same.
I can feel my cheeks heat with my blush as Beau groans beside me, leaning into me as he takes a deep breath. Meanwhile, Hawthorne doesn’t move or make a sound. He’s gripping the duvet with both hands like it’s the only thing keeping him on the bed.
When I look back to Apollo, there’s a new glimmer of something in his eyes that I can’t quite place. Desire, maybe? Or excitement. Does he feel what I feel? This connection?
The moment is broken when Apollo’s computer dings and his head snaps around. His entire body tenses up, setting me on edge.
“Shit,” he hisses as he starts clicking away on the keyboard, eyes glued to the screen and breathing heavily.
Thor is on his feet and next to him in a flash. I flinch, waiting for Apollo to lash out at the sudden closeness of the other Alpha. My anxiety spikes when he doesn’t even seem to notice for several seconds.
Oh no. This must be bad.
“Shit,” Apollo says again, glancing around the room. “Your dad just walked into the hotel. He’s got someone with him; looks like an Alpha.” I watch him look from one window to the next and then to the only exit. “I have a room. I need to go…” he whispers, his body shaking visibly, even from the other side of the room.
There’s a pause. It only lasts a few seconds, but for those few seconds, we all just watch each other, panic growing with everybreath. My thoughts are already going through every option I can imagine, but if Apollo has a room, he just needs to get to it. To move, now.
