“It’s been so long…” I start, my voice breaking unexpectedly.
Joker doesn’t speak, understanding almost immediately. It’s been almost a year since I’ve had a proper nest, between the hospital stay after the incident and then being shipped off to Love Wins. And with my memory being so unreliable, it feels like even longer since I’ve felt the safety of a nest.
“You are welcome here, Delilah. This is our nest now,” Joker says, moving close enough for our knees to touch as he leans in and presses his forehead to mine.
I let out a choked sob, but thankfully no tears fall. Today has been an exhausting roller coaster of emotions, and this is enough to finally break me. My instincts are crying out for relief, and I allow them forward, not wanting to think for the moment.
I pull back slightly and look around, assessing the state of things. The nest is well constructed, everything arranged almost perfectly. But my hands twitch at my sides as I see a few things not quite right. Joker doesn’t stop me when I crawl away, fluffing the odd pillow, swapping out blankets for cushions, anything that my instincts need right now. Not chastising, not going behind me, but allowing me to make this my space, too.
Once I’m done, I let myself curl up in a corner facing the door, sighing deeply as I relax into the cushions. Joker slides up beside me and pulls me into his side before placing a soft kiss on the top of my head. I smile at the casual affection, nuzzling against him.
“You doing okay, luv?” he asks, barely an exhale.
I nod, closing my eyes. He’s so warm, and the weight of his arm around me soothes the frayed edges ofmy nerves.
“I’m going to take care of you, Lilah. Better than anyone ever has before,” he says into the silence.
I don’t answer, not sure I was even supposed to hear that. But the words strike something deep in my heart, a part of me that I’ve ignored or suppressed. For the longest time, I’ve been the caretaker. To my family, and then my pack, and then here. Always there, dependable, jumping when asked. Going out of my way to make sure the people around me were fed, and rested, and happy. Often to my own detriment.
When was the last time I did something just because it made me happy?
When was the last time I spoke up for my own needs?
When was the last time I felt like I could ask for something?
Joker shifts us to lie down, turning us so his body is between me and the door, and pulling a soft blanket over our bodies. I drag a pair of pillows under our heads, my eyes sliding closed once we’re settled.
“I want to see you like this all the time,” Joker murmurs, brushing hair from my face.
I hum in question, not opening my eyes as I balance on the edge of sleep.
“Completely relaxed, not a care in the world. Safe. Content,” Joker replies, leaning down to nuzzle his temple against mine.
I smile softly, not sure how to answer that. But he doesn’t push me to speak; instead, he pulls me to his chest and purrs lightly, playing with the ends of my hair until I’m asleep.
Chapter forty
Iwaketothesmell of bacon in the air, which has me jumping out of bed immediately. Not even bothering with pants, I rush out to the kitchen, but stop dead, my brow furrowing. Delilah is at it again, which shouldn’t be a surprise. But what really has me stopped is the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing and nothing else, as far as I can tell.
“What are you doing up so early, baby doll?” I ask, keeping my voice low but stern.
Delilah looks up at me, and my heart skips a beat. Her stormy grey eyes go wide as she stops halfway between the sink and stove, holding a mixing bowl.
“Pancakes?” she replies, the word lifting sharply inquestion.
I sigh, but shake my head with a smile. “Ya don’t have to keep doing this for us.”
Delilah’s shoulders slump, a little frown creasing her otherwise perfect face. She tucks the bowl to her belly, clutching it like it’s armor. I take a few steps forward, hands raised in a gesture of peace. As I round the kitchen island, she shrinks back, turning toward the stove again.
“Hey, don’t run. You’re okay,” I soothe, taking slower steps toward her.
She looks up at me with those big eyes, and every wall I’ve tried to put up over the years crumbles. She’s so soft, delicate, but incredibly strong, and she doesn’t even realize it. To go through everything she has and not lose herself like so many omegas I’ve seen takes a resiliency that some only dream of. And to look so fucking beautiful on top of it…
I mentally shake myself as I realize I’m staring, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between us. I hold out my hand for the bowl, looking down at her with one eyebrow raised.
“You’re gonna let me finish this meal, baby doll,” I state, giving her no room for argument.
But to my delight and surprise, Delilah huffs and hugs the bowl tighter, rolling her eyes. And she doesn’t even catch herself and panic this time.