Molten eyes meet mine, so deep that I feel like I’m swimming through rivers of gold. I steal a quick kiss. Nothing too deep, just a bite of affection to tide me over until we collapse into bed and I feel his body weight pressed against mine.
“No, Kaitlin’s woken up three times already tonight. Seeing her father scared the shit out of her.” Shepherd shakes his head and lets me step back to dry my body. “Hannah is hiding how shaken she is. You should have seen the fear in her eyes, Foster. He might not have been physically abusive, but he’s tormented her in other ways.”
“By passing her over to her family,” I mutter. I wish I’d been here so that I could have given that asshole the beat-downhe deserves. My girls don’t need to be subjected to his bullshit anymore.
Clean and dressed, we leave the bathroom. I pause outside the guest room, my instincts urging me to peek inside and check on our girls. The door creaks softly, but neither of them stirs. I tiptoe toward their bed and press kisses to the tops of their heads. Warm brown eyes flutter open as I pull back. “Foster?”
“Just stopping by to say goodnight, Angel. Go back to sleep.”
One of her hands rises to rest against my chest, fingertips tensing when they press against bare skin. “Glad you’re back.” Her eyes fall shut, and her breathing evens out, hand falling to rest against her side.Fates,I love them all so much.
“We’ll keep him away from them,” Shepherd promises from the doorway. “I’m meeting with building security tomorrow to make sure everyone on the staff knows his face. Her mother and brother, too. None of them will violate their safe space again.”
“Maybe we should move,” I suggest. It’s been a thought in my mind for the past couple of days. Our two-bedroom apartment is great, but it isn’t built for a pack, not with three adults and two littles.
Their door clicks closed, and my Alpha takes my hand in his, leading me to our room. His eyes are heavy as we climb beneath the sheet, my back pressed to his chest. “Let’s wait until their divorce is finalized. I don’t think Hannah is ready for anything that big with us.”
Knowing he’s right doesn’t make having patience any easier.
The vibe inside the apartment is markedly different when we wake up the next morning. Somber, bordering on fearful.I hate it.Hate that Hannah’s asshole ex-husband had to show up here and wreck the peace we’d been building.
Kaitlin clings to her mother’s side all morning, no longer the smiling, happy child she was the day before. I pace the apartment, wondering how to fix this. How to bring back the laughter and joy. How to make them feel safe again.
What makes me feel safe? My nest. Could I bring them into my nest? Pausing, I glance at Hannah, who sits on the edge of the couch, helping Kaitlin build with her tiles. No, she isn’t comfortable enough with our relationship to accept an invitation into my sacred space, even a non-sexual one.
Music plays from down the hall. Our dryer is letting us know that the clothes inside are finished. Needing to keep moving, I head that way. As I’m pulling blankets out to fold, it hits me. A fort! We can turn the living room into a temporary nest!
Excitement bubbles in my chest as I hurry to gather all the spare pillows and blankets that aren’t already in my nest. Shepherd eyes me from the dining room table, sensing my feelings through our bond. “Need a hand?” He asks when I pass by, arms overloaded.
“Please! I want to build a fort.” Of course, my Alpha immediately understands my goal and is quick to join me, taking what I’m holding and heading to the living room. I open the closet and grab everything left over from when I set up my nest. I can’t hide a grin when I find the spare string lights and hooks to hold everything up. By the time I finish, a massive pile covers the end of the couch.
Kaitlin eyes the mess with a curious glance. “Hey, Princess, want to help me build a fort?”
“What’s a fort?”
Shepherd and I freeze, eyes snapping to her in tandem. Hannah looks down at her feet, and her cherry scent turns acidic with embarrassment. These two break my damn heart.
“A fort is a special place made of pillows and blankets. It’s where we hide and watch movies and read stories.”
Our princess perks up, taking in the pile with a keener eye now that she knows our intention. “Okay. I helps. How we do it?”
Together, we move furniture, hang blankets and lights, and pad the floor with pillows and thick comforters. It’s a slow process with little hands helping, but when we finally get there, our magical wonderland takes up the entire room.
“This is amazing,” Hannah whispers from beside me. I hold one arm out, letting her lean against me as Kaitlin explores the inside. “I’ve never built a fort before. Our parents would never have let us create a mess this big.”
I want to reply, to condemn her parents for ruining her childhood, but I bite the words back. No one is more aware of how horrible the Montgomerys were than Hannah. She grew up there, living under their torment and control. Instead, I hold her tighter and guide her to the fort’s entrance. We can help her experience all the magic she missed out on as a kid.
Starting with this fort.
We spend our day watching movies and singing along. At one point, Kaitlin brings out her princess crowns and places one on each of our heads. Her giggles echo through the small space when Shepherd pulls on a matching pair of fairy wings and a tutu. I fall a little harder for my Alpha watching him tease and play with our little girl, and I think Hannah does too, based on the awe-filled smile that stretches across her lips.
After dinner and a bath, we settle beneath the twinkling lights once more. A calmer movie plays this time, and Kaitlin quickly passes out, spread across Shepherd’s chest. She’s stilltired from waking so often the night before, so we turn the volume down and enjoy the soft sound of her snores.
“How was your concert?” Hannah asks, leaning her head against my shoulder. Pillows pile behind her to keep her sitting at an angle and ease the pressure on her lower back. She’s started having small bouts of Braxton-Hicks contractions, and they are wearing her down.
Tilting my head against hers, I tell her about the show. She’s never heard of the all-female band, not having had access to their type of music in Whitlan, but she lights up at my description of their stage performance. “Have you ever been to a concert?”
She snorts. “Only church choir performances.”
