“I sound crazy, don’t I?” I wail, throwing up my hands. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “You’re perfect. If something doesn’t feel right, then we’ll fix it.”
“Okay,” I sniff, feeling as if I’m losing it.
Bellamy patiently helps me change the color combination of blankets, so that the neutral colors are on top, while the lavender barely peeks out underneath. The fitted and top sheets are gray and work as they are, while the yellow and cream pillows pull everything together to brighten things up.
Blowing out a breath as I fiddle with the slate blue weighted blanket we finished yesterday, I finally step back to find that it’s perfect.
“How’s the smell of the nest?” Bellamy asks, his earlier calm beginning to bleed away. “Does it feel off, Beloved?”
“Ah…” Taking a deep breath, I realize that our nest doesn’t smell like our alphas. My anxiety ramps up so fast, I see stars, and Bell flinches.
“I knew it,” he complains. “We need to fix it.”
“This belongs to Abbott,” I say, tugging at the shirt that hits my knees before pulling the collar of it to my nose. It smells like amber and a campfire, just like him. The scent is warm andreassuring, making me miss him deeply. “Should I add it to our nest?”
“You’re wearing it,” Bell says, shaking his head as I sigh in relief. “No, I’m not taking your shirt, Beloved. I don’t want you to get cold, and you like it. We need to steal new things.”
We stretched with our alphas in our usual morning ritual, and then came upstairs while they went for their run. Walking down the stairs with Bellamy, I listen for signs that they’re home.
“Maybe they’re still out?” I ask.
“Run club is usually Wednesdays, but they still go out for a run every day,” Bellamy mumbles, shrugging. “We'll be quick. They all have their clothes mixed together. Hopefully they haven’t done laundry.”
“Shit. The house cleaner hasn’t come in yet. We should be fine,” I say. Bell and I wash our own clothes because we don’t like people touching our things. “Let’s see what we can find.”
Hurrying into the room, I find the hamper and begin to dig through it while Bellamy picks up things that are on the floor.
“This is…Abbott’s,” Bell groans, the workout pants against his face as he groans.
Ooh, yes! I need to find their gym clothes. That’ll have their scent all over it. Finding a black shirt, I breathe it in, whimpering as I smell Shiloh’s oleander scent. Mmm. So fucking yummy. Dangerous yet beautiful, just like him.
“I have Shiloh’s shirt,” I say, sighing happily as I keep looking. “I can’t find any women’s clothing in this hamper.”
“I thought the house cleaner did all their laundry and she hasn’t been by this weekend. Where could it be hiding,” Bell mumbles, walking into the bathroom to look for something she may have slept in. “Found her pajamas! I can’t find anything else though.”
Shit. Cassidy must have done her laundry earlier. It’s not much, but it’ll help.
Would it be wrong to strip her out of her clothes as soon as she walks in the door? I’m really fucking tempted.
It’s like Bellamy and I have been turned into feral omegas, hoarding everything we can to fix our nest. I don’t understand what’s wrong with us.
“Bell, are you feeling what I’m feeling, or are they your own feelings?” I ask, searching for something that belongs to Ansel.
The things our instincts are driving us to do aren’t normal, and I’m getting the sinking sensation that it’s more than simply a bad mood.
“My skin is clammy,” he mumbles. “I’m definitely in the thick of whatever this is. Are we getting sick?”
“No,” I say, my stomach flip-flopping with anxiety. Shit, shit, shit!
Chewing on my inner lip, I force myself not to think about anything but searching for Ansel’s clothing. I’m about eighty percent sure this is the beginning of our heat. I’m willing to pretend as long as possible that it’s not if it keeps Bell from freaking out.
We’re just going to have to figure it out together.
“I found one of his socks. Damn. Are you fucking serious?” Bellamy snarls angrily.
Okay, so maybe both Ansel and Cassidy did laundry recently.
