Chapter 54

Chapter Fifty-Four

FREYA

E ntering the cute boutique, I reflexively swallow the stress ball that surges up my throat. It has nothing to do with the small space, or the fact that all four of my mates take up most of it. It's the pressure.

It's the fact that Lucas held the door open for me to go first, which now fucking means I'm leading our train through a store I don't even want to be at.

Actually, that's a lie. I do want to be here, to get better and move forward with my healing process, but suddenly two weeks of freedom feels like an hour.

"Oooo, this is cute." I hear Casey's appreciation from behind me.

I turn, happy to follow my beta's lead. His head of messy, dirty blonde hair is bent over a rack of dresses. The one in his hand looks really similar to the T-shirts I was forced to wear like a dress during my time in the cell.

"Not that one," I croak, hoping it's okay to deny the article of clothing.

Immediately, Casey drops the dress and smiles. "Good job, baby. Thank you for telling me."

I smile, my shoulders dropping slightly with his praise. Gripping my hand, Casey tugs me through the racks, stopping a few times to study my face until a wall of swim suits snags his full attention.

Standing behind him while he peruses the revealing strips of cloth, I allow my gaze to take in the store. A few tables by the register and changing rooms stand out and the next thing I know, my hands are dragging over the array of blankets, pillows and sheets.

My focus narrows on a set of creamy white silk sheets. My senses drive me to grab the package and rub my cheek against the small strip of fabric it allows me to feel. A distressed sound leaves my lips when the only scent I can pick up on is soap. There's no espresso, dark chocolate, whiskey, maple. Only the lingering scent of my subtle whipped cream and almond bark.

Huffing, I put it back. It was perfect until it wasn't. Frustration fills me when I realize none of the things I want smell right.

A candle that smells like sweet breakfast is nice, appealing to the only sense it needs to. Tucking the little jar to my chest, a package of light purple fuzzy socks basically sparkles out of the corner of my eye. I snatch it up, making sure to not sniff it. I like it, and socks don't need to be chosen based on my determined nose to find something that doesn't exist in this damn place.

Cocking my head at the accessories table beside the tower of socks, a purple scrunchie with white polka-dots practically screams my name. I don't hesitate to grab it.

"Whatcha got there, Ray?"

A possessive curl to my lips greets Elliott when he tries to get a better look at my three items. It's a threat, but he only smiles and leans his hip against the table by a rack of necklaces.

Then Ronan's there, studying my little stash with a frown. "That's a great start. But why don't you pick out some clothes, huh?"

I stiffen at the same time Elliott does.

I shake my head. "I don't want any clothes. I like these," I say, hugging my finds tighter to my chest.

"But you need to find your own style too, Freya," Ronan argues.

Why is he arguing with me? I've done good, haven't I? I'm choosing things for myself!

Ronan pales and Elliott growls, glaring daggers at our pack alpha. "Of course you did amazing, Star! I'm so sorry for pressuring you."

Oh, I said that out loud .

"How 'bout we get your nesting items purchased and go down to the beach?" Elliott suggests, but I'm stuck on one thing.

"I'm not nesting."

Elliott raises a dark brow. "You're possessive of them, even with your alphas. It's okay, omega. It means your system is beginning to regulate."

But I don't want to regulate. Regulate means heat.

"Oh, Freya," Lucas enters our conversation with the silk sheet that didn't smell right. "I saw you looking at this. Do you want it?"

I hesitate, but decide to tell them it doesn't smell good.

Lucas frowns down at it, then rubs his cheek against the exposed fabric and swipes it against the other three when Casey comes bounding over.

"How about now, sweetheart?" Lucas encourages me to take a sniff by holding it out.

I blush when my eyes widen and my pussy flutters.

"Mm, our sweet omega likes our scents on her sheets," Lucas rumbles, making my scent flare in our little corner.

"Can I..." I trail off, reaching for the package.

"Of course," Lucas says with a shit-eating grin that I kind of want to lick and punch all at once. Damn him for being right . Just the thought of making them roll around on my new sheet when we get home has me all hot and bothered.

Elliott clears his throat. "Let's check out and go wander the beach for a little before we head home for hot dogs."

"Oh yum! With barbecue chips?" I ask, feeling giddy.

"Of course, my love," Ronan murmurs, dropping a kiss to my temple and swiping his card.

All thoughts of nesting vanish in the wake of dinner being mentioned and the promise of a salty breeze ruffling my hair. And of course, watching my mates' asses trek the shore line.

An omega could get used to this.