My omega.
CHAPTER 42
BELLS
The nest iswayfucking better this time.
Not because of the blankets or the pillows or the mattresses dragged from three different rooms and shoved together in the living room. Not even because of the fairy lights Phoenix strung along the bookshelf at my request or the fact that Raf's secret candy stash has been raided so thoroughly we had to place a frankly embarrassing order for more snacks, and the overloaded bags tore open when the delivery guy carried them into the elevator lobby.
Last time, I built a nest and swore up and down it wasn't one. I piled mattresses and arranged pillows and created a sprawling padded island in the middle of Rex's living room and saidslumber partywith a straight face while three alphas nodded along. Because the alternative was acknowledging what we all knew, and none of us were ready to officially name.
Tonight, the nest is better because there's no pretending.
Rex isn't even wearing a mask. Or a hoodie.
He has a black t-shirt and sweats, and his full face is bare beneath the warm fairy lights. His dyed dark hair is still falling across his scars, and I'm sure that's on purpose, but still.
He's not hiding tonight.
And neither am I.
I'm in one of Phoenix's t-shirts, which is a dress on me, and nothing else. No binder. No collar. No suppressants masking my scent, because I haven't refilled the prescription and don't intend to.
My scent fills the room.
Phoenix noticed first. His nostrils flared the second I walked in and he made a sound in his chest that was more vibration than voice. Raf's reaction was subtler, a slow exhale, his dark eyes tracking me across the room.
Rex just breathed in and closed his working eye.
Now we're here.
The four of us in a nest that is unambiguously,unapologeticallya fucking nest, and my hand is on my throat, feeling the crescent scar beneath my fingers.
It's cooler than it's been in years. The inflammation from the bond severance has already faded to a faint pink, the raised tissue settling into something that looks less like a wound and more like… well, what it is.
A scar.
Just a scar.
I've been carrying it for so long, it's been the axis around which my entire life has rotated. Every decision. Every disguise. Every lie, every mask, every inch of fucking distance I put between myself and every other human being on the planet. All of it traced back to this scar, to the night an alpha I didn't choose put his teeth in my neck and tried to make me his forever.
I look at Phoenix, cross-legged on the mattress to my left, his blond hair loose around his shoulders, his blue eyes steady. Raf, sprawled on my right with his head propped on his hand, watching me. And Rex, leaning against the wall, his face turned slightly but bare all the same, watching me with a softness I've never even dreamed he was capable of.
Terrified, but soft.
"I want to be marked," I say quietly. "Not someday. Tonight."
Phoenix and Raf stop breathing.
Rex doesn't visibly react. "You're sure."
I pull Phoenix's shirt over my head and drop it on the blankets. The cool air hits my bare skin and I don't cover myself. Don't cross my arms, don't hunch, don't do any of the things I've done for years to minimize.
I tilt my chin up, baring the crescent scar in the twinkling light. "I want your marks to cover this. You're my pack."
Phoenix moves first.
His hand cups my jaw and tilts my face toward him. His warm mouth finds mine as his other hand slides down my bare side, fingertips tracing the dip of my waist, the flare of my hip, and my skin erupts in goosebumps everywhere he touches.