Chapter Twelve

Red

She's been at it for almost an hour, picking the loft apart left, right, and center. One random item after the other, piled precisely into her nest.

"What the …" I mutter, watching her carry a whole bottle of soap out of the bathroom. "Where's that gonna go?"

"Dunno," Riley says, equally perturbed. "Don't question it."

"An omega's genius," Marcus suggests.

"More like pup-brain," I say under my breath.

Eve appears again, rifling through one of our bags. Actually, my bag.

"Need me to find something for you, baby girl?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I got it."

My alpha doesn't know what to make of this. On the one hand, I love how fixated she is on my stuff, my scent, and I want to give her everything she needs. On the other … I've never seen her nesting quite like this. Something about it doesn't feel quite right.

"She's agitated," Riley notes.

Thorn crosses his arms, lurking in the corner. "I don't like it."

Baxter looks up from his phone. He takes note of Eve, still digging through my bag, then checks the time.

"Alright, little one." He stands. "I think that's enough for tonight."

Eve just grunts.

Baxter approaches, crouching down in front of her. "You hear me, omega?"

It takes him putting a hand on her arm before she flinches, her eyes flashing. Fury—urgency—strikes our bond, potent enough that my alpha jumps to protect her.

Our head alpha is not a threat. But he's getting between Eve and her nest, and right now, I guess that's close enough.

Baxter doesn't pull away, giving Eve—and the rest of us—a moment to put our heads back on. Our omega's eyes clear ever-so-slightly as she shrinks in shame. "Sorry, alpha," she whispers.

Baxter quirks a brow. "You hear me now?"

Softly, she nods.

"Good girl. Come on—let's strip you down and get into bed." He glances at the rest of us over his shoulder. "You're all welcome to join, if you're tired."

I'm not, but what kind of sociopath says no to nest cuddles?

"Wait," Eve half-whines as Baxter helps her up, "the nest isn't ready."

"The nest is perfect," he answers simply.

"It's not finished. I need to—"

"Need what?" Thorn demands, closing in, ensnaring her between him and Baxter. Even watching them across the room, that intensity gives me chills. His silent meaning clear— Anything. I'll give you anything you ask.

Eve breaks. "I need my nest."

Oh, fuck, she's crying. Pregnant omega. Crying.

Frantically, my head racing with all the ways I could fix this, I remind her, "You've got your nest right here, 'mega. Did such a good job with it." I pick up one of my discarded shirts as if to prove the point.

"Not this nest. Home. Want to go back to the nest at home."

"First thing in the morning," Riley assures her, "we'll head out."

Marcus nods enthusiastically. "Your nest will still be there, waiting for you."

"Tonight." She blinks her teary lashes up at Baxter. "Can we?"

Sighing, he cups the side of her face, tucking her hair back. "You need rest, omega."

"I can rest in the car."

We glance furtively amongst each other. With her current track record ? ‘Sleep' isn't on the table. It's not even in the same room.

"Omega—" Thorn starts, always the readiest to deliver bad news.

"I don't want to be here," she hiccups, "the pup doesn't want to be here."

My heart stops. The pup ?

Instantly Marcus intervenes, and Thorn shifts aside, letting him examine her. "What do you mean? Does something hurt? You feel sick?"

"I always feel sick," she snaps. Marcus recoils, and her face falls. "Sorry. It's not—nothing's wrong. I just want to be home."

We breathe a collective sigh of relief. The pup's not even born yet, and they already have us wrapped around their little finger. Just mentioning their existence is enough to send every alpha in the room into a frenzy.

Calmer now, I drift forward. "I want to be home too, baby."

Eve's eyes twinkle. "You do?"

Thorn shoots me a warning glare.

"Yeah," I tell her. "But we've had a big day. Pup has, too. We all need some shut-eye before we hit the road again."

Something in what I've said gives Eve pause. Her watery focus flicks between me and my packmates, like she's picking apart the tired lines on our faces. She shrinks once more, resigned to our fate.

It takes about a dozen more apologies before she settles, lying on top of Baxter's chest to fall asleep. Just as well—we need all the surface area we can get, cramming four more bodies into the nest.

Eve is right. We shouldn't be here. We shouldn't have to give a second thought to anyone—the courts, the Carsons, Riley's family, or anyone else's—outside of this cramped nest. That trusty rebellious streak inside of me wants to say fuck it . Let's take her back to the den. Let's never come back.

A nice thought.

Nice enough to keep me dreaming until morning.