8. Sadie

Logan's steady heart beats near my ear. The lack of accompanying fingers tapping on a keyboard is the first sign I'm not in the city. For the last few weeks, all I seem to do is find myself waking up from a nap on Logan's chest in the car between stops. My poor mate has mastered the art of one-handed typing.

I open my eyes and note the light from the soft curtains in our room. I'm home, and it's afternoon.

Shit. What day is it?

I think back to the last thing I remember. My nest. Dinner with the pack. The warmth of the memory of Hunter and Logan quietly bathing me makes my eyes water. They were so tender with me that thinking about it aches. This pack is so good to me, good for me. Has any omega ever been loved like I am by this pack? I don't think it's possible. I clear my throat, refusing to cry again.

Focus. If that's the last I remember and it's afternoon, at least another day has passed with me sleeping.

Jeez.I'm a freaking mess. I hope this isn't the start of my pre-heat. I remember from last time that I was tired right before, but I'm not ready. And that knowledge kills me.

"You awake, beautiful?" Logan asks softly.

"I think so, but I don't have a good track record at the moment. How long was I asleep?" I try to sit up from his chest, but he squeezes my hip.

"Not so fast. How are you feeling?"

Like a total hot-ass mess. But I don't say it.

"I'm fine," I mumble, sitting up and looking around the nest.

Our huge bed has become a bit like a crater. It's surrounded by laundry and piled with blankets saturated in the scent of pack. I'm sure it was me, but I don't remember doing it. It's probably weird, but the sight of it soothes my soul and fills me with hope.

That bubbly feeling is snuffed out just as quickly by the guilt that sits in my stomach. These last few months, I've been a zombie. I sleep, try to keep up in boardrooms I'm not remotely prepared for, talk to the press, and cry when I think no one is watching. This sucks. I'm so damn needy. I take and take from my pack.

Logan startles me with a hand to my cheek, pulling my eyes to him. "Hey. What's going on?"

I drifted again. I can't seem to stay in the present. "I was wondering when the heck I built Mount Laundry."

"Saturday night, I think. Cutest thing I ever saw." Logan smiles at me, his brown eyes warm and the expression on his face full of fond amusement.

Even now, he's sweet and reassuring when we're talking about me taking dirty clothes and piling them all around us.

See? Totally needy.

"Hardly." I run my hands under his sweatshirt and along his chest, simply wanting the contact of his smooth skin. "And what day is today?"

"Tuesday. You slept all day yesterday. And before you ask, everything is handled. I've got to be back in Lux later this week when the council investigation resumes, but you're cleared through the week."

"Wasn't that interview?—"

"Handled. The only thing on your to-do list for the time being is to relax," he says, using that firm tone that's all reporter.

I swallow the lump in my throat and hug my beta tightly. "Thank you for everything, Lo."

He wraps his arms around me, and I suck in his crisp cashmere and autumn air scent. It reminds me of when we were first mated and how I would curl up in his lap in the backyard. The world was full of hope then. One thing hasn't changed. As usual, Logan has been my ride-or-die, handling this crisis like a fucking boss.

"I'll always have your back." He kisses my forehead.

Beneath me, Logan is hard, and that makes me feel like shit. I pull away, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable. I simply don't have the energy for an afternoon romp, even though that knowledge is depressing.

Logan ropes me back to him. "Ignore it, beautiful."

"Aren't you uncomfortable?" I whisper into his neck.

He chuckles, his hand rubbing my back. "I'm fine. Seriously. My dick has a mind of its own and an inability to read the room. Ignore it."

Even though the guys have told me explicitly on more than one occasion that it's a non-issue, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever feel like myself again. Since I found out my family is totally bat-shit-psycho, my instincts have told me to hide under a blanket. But that wasn't an option. So I've been sucking it up. As a result, it seems my body has decided to stage a protest.

My vagina has been a dry desert, even after seeing Logan in work mode. If that doesn't make me horny, I know my libido is on strike. Watching him handle the Kings and organize all his contacts into an army was undeniably sexy as hell.

I've mostly gotten over my hatred of the Kings, and I begrudgingly like Madison, but watching Logan take them on has been hot as fuck and a little satisfying. But not even being surrounded by Logan's hotness has been able to cure me of my funk.

Ugh. I'm tired of myself.

"Hey, Sadie?" Logan's voice holds a note of anxiety, and I sit up so I can look at him.

"Yeah?"

"I love you, you know. It isn't that you're an omega, or that you're gorgeous."

"Gorgeous, huh?"

"Absolutely and incredibly sexy. But my point"—he runs his finger down my nose—"is that's not all you are to me. I can feel your worry in the bond. Want to talk about it?"

I close my eyes against the onslaught of love in his eyes and blow out a breath. "You're not pressuring me. I guess I'm annoyed with myself and the way my body is acting. I want to be feeling different than I am."

"Feeling different or thinking different?" he asks. The question is soft and asked kindly, but it lands sharply.

"I don't know. My instincts tell me one thing, but my thoughts are a mess. I feel guilty and mad at myself… a lot."

Logan hums, rubbing his hands down my arms while he takes that in. After a while, he says, "I know it's easier said than done, but try to give yourself some kindness. There's no rule book for how to deal with this shit."

I let myself feel those words. Why am I being so hard on myself? I don't know the answer to that question, but it seems as though it might be important. Already though, I'm worn out again from this conversation, all the emotions swimming around in my heart, and the doubts speeding in my thoughts.I roll over and stare at the ceiling, rubbing idly at my chest. A new ache there smarts, but I can't get a handle on what it is. It's too much to sort out, and I close my eyes.

The low soundof voices wakes me, and I'm hit in the face with the smell of pineapple and mango.I whine, the sound so loud that I startle and sit up, looking around. Beside me, Logan is wide-eyed. Panic fills my chest until my eyes land on the door to my nest. It's open a crack, and Hunter is poking his head inside.

"Shh, baby, you're all right. She's not coming inside. I'm coming up to get you, is all." Hunter's purr sounds, trying to combat the rising of my whine. He steps inside, bringing that overly sweet smell into the room.

"What is that?" I grumble, covering my nose.

Hunter steps back, his face all hard lines and the dominance of his alpha, even as he purrs for me. "Lo, bring her down. I don't want to contaminate the nest. Explain, but hurry, please. I can't—" He backs out of the room.

I turn to Logan, and my stomach lurches.

Shit. I'm going to puke from the smell.I dart from the bed but don't make it to the bathroom. Instead, I heave up nothing but bile into an empty basket that usually holds a stack of quilts near the end of the bed.

Logan is there in an instant, running his hands along my back. "It's all right. Let it out."

I heave, but nothing comes except a string of tears and snot. I'm so gross right now, but I can't even think about that over the rocky upheaval in my stomach.

"It's the scent of Dr. Fields. We're worried, so we asked her here to see if something is going on with you."

I wipe my mouth, embarrassed and trying to find the words to ask questions or apologize.

Logan takes off his sweatshirt and uses the sleeve to clean me up, then he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly. "It's all right. We're going to get it sorted out. Hang on."

He picks me up, and I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my nose near his jaw. It helps, but not enough to cover up the overly sweet smell of fruit.

"Dr. Fields is an alpha. She works with Tris at the college in their omega clinic, and she's great, I promise."

I nod against him in reassurance, but my stomach has other ideas, squeezing tightly.

He carries me down the stairs and into the living room, where that fruity scent takes over everything. My hands tremble, and I hold Logan tighter until a low rumble sounds. Hunter's juniper and spicy currants drown out the newest alpha when Lo passes me into his arms.

"It's all right, baby, I've got you. I'll hold on the entire time."

A warm, feminine voice sounds from across the room, but I don't turn. "I'm sorry about this, Sadie. I know you must be uncomfortable with an unknown alpha near your nest when you're not feeling well. I've sprayed de-scenter, but when omegas nest, they don't like any new scents, so I'll do my best to make this quick. Hunter, can you please sit down with her on the couch?"

I suck in his scent in huge lungfuls, my nails digging into his neck until he's seated, then the heat of my pack surrounds me. With their presence, my nerves and stomach settle enough that I peek my head out.

The alpha doesn't look threatening at all. Dr. Fields is dressed in bright tie-dye scrubs, Crocs covered in pins of kittens, and her hair braided in pigtails. She looks about the same age as my aunt Bethany, her kind face lined with age and sun. Even though Dr. Fields looks harmless, my omega instincts want me to kick her from the house.

Total hot mess.

Hunter's rumbly purr fills the room, then I recognize Elliot's deep tone added to the mix.I look over my shoulder to see my Bear tensed at the back of the couch beside a hovering Logan. I reach out, and Elliot's big fingers thread through mine.

"It's all right, Red." Elliot's country accent is thick, drawing out the sound of my nickname.

I smile, trying to reassure us both. "I'm okay."

"That's better already," the doctor says, pleased. "I'm going to approach you now." I turn back to her and watch as she makes exaggerated movements. "All right. This time I'm going to feel your neck and check out your scent gland." She leans in, asking for confirmation that she can touch.

It's not as if I've never seen a doctor before. Omegas see them plenty. There were all sorts of tests when I was younger because I was a late bloomer and didn't perfume when most omegas do. I don't understand why the heck I'm acting like this.

I take a breath and do as Logan said, trying to be gentle with myself. When I'm ready, I nod to the doctor. "But please make it fast. My skin feels too tight."

Her soft fingers feel my neck, and I grit through it, clenching my teeth.

"That's good, sweet girl. Tell her what else you're feeling." Hunter's praise feels like the sun's rays, and my chest expands. I don't understand why, but it gives me the boost I need to find more words.

"I'm tired. I'm crying a lot."

She continues her exam, asking with each new touch for permission. I'm grateful for how slow she's taking it. The longer she's here, the more I settle, but the urge to ask her to leave is still strong.

"I'm having a hard time focusing, and I want to ask you to leave. I'm so sorry."

She chuckles. "Don't be sorry. That's excellent. It would be very concerning if you didn't. Your instincts are telling you to protect your territory."

She finishes up, making some notes on a tablet and stepping back. "Any other symptoms? Feeling achy? Chest pains? Tingling?"

"She's lost her appetite," Tristian says from his spot on the arm of the couch. His tone is full of worry.I lock eyes with him, and he mouths, "You're doing great."

Turning back to the doctor, I add, "I'm not hungry, and my body is more achy than usual. My sex drive is gone. And I've had a few panic attacks."

She makes more notes and asks me several follow-up questions.

"All right. Sadie, from what I see, you've got a case of clinical exhaustion. Which means you need rest. If it persists, we can run some tests, but I'd prefer not to bring you into the clinic right now. Limit your travel. Stay home and in bed as much as possible. Rely on these guys." She lifts her chin at my pack.

My muscles unlock, my fears popping like a water balloon. There is no strange illness. No need for panic. I'm tired. I've been going nonstop. Of course I'm tired.

Dr. Fields continues, "Listen to your instincts, but as long as you do that, you should fully recover. Unless you want me to stay and discuss the treatment with you, I'll walk Tristian through it on the porch so I can get out of your space."

I scrunch my nose and nod. "Please." I'm so rude right now, but the need for her to go is a steady, shrill alarm blaring in my head. "But also, thank you!"

We'll need to air out the house, and I want my pack to shower before they step foot in the nest. I guess I should give in to my instincts and do what Lo said by trying not to judge myself so harshly.

She waves off my rudeness. "You're delightful," she calls as Tristian and Logan walk her to the door.

Graham holds out his hand to me. "Come on. I haven't gotten enough snuggles today."

"Not unless you shower!" I command, which only makes him laugh.

"All right, my Sleeping Beauty, let's get cleaned up." Hunter picks me up and passes me backward over his head toward Elliot.

I let out a surprised squeak, but Elliot's got me secured in his arms before the sound reaches my ears.He doesn't speak. Instead, he leans in, scent marking his cheek against mine. His warm s'mores scent is more dark chocolate than usual, but being in his arms is a balm to my soul.

As Elliot takes me toward the stairs, there is a buzzing at the back of my mind, as though I'm missing something. Maybe it's because the other guys stepped outside, and I want them close? Or perhaps it's that endless to-do list hovering right outside this week the guys have bought me?

Either way, I don't like the feeling and snuggle closer to my Bear.

Be patient with myself. Be kind. Rest. I can do this. I have to because my pack is counting on me to be okay.