33. Elena

Perfect.Perfect. Perfect.

I chant it over a million times as I look at the nest. Not a single thing is out of place, and it's like an absolute dream. Even if I'm starting to cramp up and feel like absolute garbage. I mean, intrinsically I knew this was going to happen, but experiencing it is a whole other story.

All of them helped me make it perfect in some way. Finn put up the swing and unpacked the chair. Lorcán went shopping for all the loose ends I needed. Cillian collected scents and helped me fold towels, even if I had to refold them after. And Declan helped me pick out almost everything that I have in the cozy space, along with jumping on the nest bed to make sure that it's broken in enough.

For the first time since my pápa died, I feel truly taken care of and cherished.

I can't help it when tears start falling down my face as I put their pillows underneath the correctly-colored ones.

Declan chooses that moment to walk in and looks at me with fear in his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

He sits on the bed and cups my face, his eyes widening even further.

"Elena, sweetheart, you feel a little warm."

"And I'm an emotional wreck."

"You're not."

"I thought I was ready. My nest is perfect. You're amazing. Everything is how it's supposed to be. But what if I'm not ready, Declan? I don't know how I'll act or feel. What if it sucks? It's already starting to hurt."

"What hurts?"

"My whole fucking reproductive system feels like it wants to explode. What if it hurts the whole time? What if I can't express what I need? What if it's too much?"

His thumbs run soothing circles on my temples before he uses them to wipe away my tears.

"Where's that device thing we got?"

I sniffle and point to the left of the bed, where there are a series of drawers. Everything is meticulously placed, and I don't particularly like the idea of him messing with my stuff, but I let him get up.

He opens the top drawer and whistles.

"Damn, blondie, that's a lot of toys." I shrug, and he grabs the patch designed to help with cramps and shuts the drawer softly. "Lay back."

I do as he says, and he lifts my shirt, kissing my stomach and sticking the purple patch on my abdomen before turning it on.

"How"s that?"

I wipe my face and nod.

"Do you think if I ate you out, that might help?" he asks, and I smile and nod.

He peppers kisses all over my stomach, making me laugh and forget about all the pain currently ricocheting through my body.

"Wait!" I stop him as his teeth clamp down on the waistband of my shorts.

The waistband snaps from his mouth against my skin as he looks at me.

"I need you to make me a promise."

"Okay, anything."

"That no matter what I say, no matter how much I beg you, don't let anyone bond with me."

"You're sure?"

"I want to be lucid. Maybe it's stupid, but I like the idea of it being romantic. Not something to ease whatever this is. I'm sure I'll ask them to do it, to bite me. But I need it to be a choice when I'm not in heat."

"Maybe I should bring a taser in here and zap ‘em if they try," he jokes.

"I've done a lot of research on what it's like to go through heat and not bond, it's difficult. But sucking on my neck, grazing teeth, and words of affirmation will help with the feeling of rejection."

"You know none of them are rejecting you."

His head rests on my pelvis, and I brush his hair away from his face, his locks gliding through my fingers smoothly.

"Rationally, right now, I know that, but I won't during my heat. I'm trusting you to keep everyone in line."

"Aye, that's me, master of mitigation."

I smile, and he grabs the hem of my shorts again with his teeth, proceeding to eat me out like his life depends on it. It helps with the pain, and so does the device, but I have no doubt in my mind I'll be in full-blown heat within the next few hours.

My clothes itch, and they don't smell right.

I'm pacing the nest while Lorcán, Cillian, and Declan stare at me like they don't know what to do.

Of course, they don't know what to fucking do. None of us do. This is a disaster.

This perfect nest, yet none of us have a single clue what we're doing.

Something feels so off, so wrong.

Lorcán's shirt looks super soft, though. I snap my fingers at him, and he looks up at me. "Your shirt."

The man takes it off with zero hesitation, and I remove my clothes to put his shirt on. This is much better. It smells just like his rich cedarwood scent.

Cillian's scent is the strongest in the room, likely because he's my scent match, but it still isn't enough. It doesn't feel right.

"Princess, is there something you need? Something we can do to make you feel better?" Lorcán asks apprehensively.

A needy whine rips from my throat, but I continue to pace.

It's not what's missing. It's who is missing.

How could my other scent match not want to be here for me? Am I not good enough? I'll just have to make him understand that I can be good for him, that he needs to be here for me. Because without him here, I'm not sure I can do this.

I stop pacing and begin to leave the nest.

"Elena, where are you going?" Cillian asks, but I ignore him as I put in the code to leave the nest.

He doesn't stop me but continues to follow me as I walk towards Finn's room.

"Mo stór, I don't know if that's the best idea."

I don't reply to him because he clearly doesn't get it. He doesn't understand this deep-rooted, incessant need for Finn to be a part of my heat, that without him there, I'll just ache.

Finn is sitting on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands as I approach him. I know my scent is the thickest it's ever been, and it has an instant effect on him. He drops his hands, looking at Cillian and me.

I drop to my knees and place my cheek on his thigh.

"I'll be good, please," I tell him. "I'll be so good. I can't… I can't."

He runs a tattooed hand through my hair, his skin feeling electric against mine.

"You can't what?" he asks, his voice gentle. It makes me want him even more.

"I can't do this without you. I need you. I promise to be good."

He sighs, deeply inhaling my scent or breathing in irritation, I'm not sure.

"I know you're good, you're perfect. There's nothing wrong with you. You are perfect," he promises in the softest tone I've ever heard him use. "You don't really want me there, though, Elena. I don't deserve to be a part of your heat, not yet."

"I don't fucking care," I tell him, rubbing my face against the buttery-soft material of his pant leg. "You're not broken. You're mine whether you want to be or not."

"I don't deserve you, baby," he says, and I can feel wetness pooling around the apex of my thighs.

"I don't care. It doesn't matter."

He sighs, and the sting of rejection cuts so deep I want to curl into a ball and die. A cramp rumbles through me so hard that tears well in my eyes from the pain.

"Come on, Elena, I'll take care of you. It will be okay," Cillian encourages, attempting to grab my arm.

"No," I nearly shout at him as I tug my arm away and place both hands on Finn's thighs. "Don't make me beg. Not after everything. Why don't you want me?"

Finn grips my chin, his face the closest to mine it's ever been.

"Don't be stupid." My heart drops in my chest. I should have gotten sedated and waited until we were truly a pack to go through my heat together. I've ruined everything. "I want you more than I've wanted anything, and I don't know how to deal with that. Why would you ever want me after everything I did to you?"

"Shut up," I tell him before standing and crawling onto his lap. He thankfully lets me as he holds me by the waist. "You want me?"

He nods, and it feels like all the little pieces are clicking together. Everything I've ever wanted is finally making sense.

Words are hard with Finn, so instead, I just grab his face and crash his lips to mine.

He moans against my mouth, and his hands grip my ass roughly. I knew he'd be like this, in control and rough.

Cillian comes to stand behind me, and both of their scents, the identical scents of rosemary and spearmint, it's nearly too much to handle. I part from the kiss and look into Finn's eyes, his pupils nearly taking up his irises.

I'm frustrated with all the fabric between us and even more so by this thing stuck on my skin.

I rip the shirt over my head and watch Finn's lust-filled eyes take me in. I go to aggressively rip the patch from my midsection when Finn grabs my hands.

"I'll do it."

He's gentle and tender as he slowly peels the device from my skin and places it on his bed.

"Let's move this to your nest," my tattooed scent match says.

I bite my lip and decide my tongue needs to explore every inked and scarred inch of this man. So I do, licking the side of his neck before kissing him everywhere my mouth can touch.

He hefts my naked body up, and I try to undress him as he carries me to my nest, but it's more difficult than I thought.

I need his skin on mine; I need all of them touching me, kissing me, worshiping me.

My scent match locks the door to the nest behind me, and I'm greeted with the combination of my pack's scent. Everything feels right, and I finally let myself go.