50. Amaya

50

AMAYA

G reen of all shades gives my nest a perfect soothing, comforting vibe. Blankets, body pillows, sheets, and comforters. They're beautiful even if my omega craves their green colors because of the color of her mates’ eyes.

Oliver and Samuel, even if they never step foot in my nest, they are here in the softest, most comforting forms.

Gold sparkles in a few accent pillows and knickknacks I decorated a few of my tall shelves with. I even found a shimmery gold silk robe that's hanging on one of the hooks by the door.

Emmett. He's here in the sprinkles of gold his brown eyes twinkle with. There's happiness, an extra layer of the life I loved in those pretty accents.

What surprised me the most was the gorgeous blue beaded canopy Vincent helped me hang on the back wall when he came up with a snack. The canopy made me feel like my alpha was watching over me and my safe space.

God, I couldn't stop perfuming once I allowed him inside. Seeing my big, tattooed alpha dominating the space of my new nest was the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

His bright blue eyes absolutely smoldered when he took in the large sunken mattress. Thankfully, I had everything exactly where I wanted it, with the blankets tucked and twirled around the edges with all my soft pillows resting against them.

Rolling my new fluffy throw blanket, I set it with the other two. My fingers sink into them as I stare at the box of twinkly lights that still need to go up.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here rolling and re-rolling my blankets under the comfort of my sheet, but I have never felt so at peace. There are still a few things that are making me a little twitchy, like the fact that Vincent's scent is fading from his quick pop in, and that the lighting is all wrong.

I'm trying to ignore the incessant poutiness making my eyes burn with tears when I remember the absence of my other mates. My nest is a constant reminder of what could have been, but any other color scheme I tried wasn't right.

There are boxes of purples and pinks, blacks and silvers, even bright yellows and soft oranges lining the hallway outside of my bedroom. I tried to make my nest with them, but it didn't feel like home .

I intentionally ignored the bag that smells of my mates. I may need a reminder of them in my nest, but physically smelling them is a step too far. They feel like home, and this is the closest I'll ever be to that feeling ever again. Even if it hurts me, if they hurt me, I need them in some capacity, I guess.

Instincts are a bitch .

I'm glaring daggers at the lights that apparently aren't self-hanging when a familiar scent invades the open door of my nest. Jumping to my feet, I stumble across the mattress, careful not to ruin my hard work and slam the door closed behind me.

Tilting my nose in the air, I close my eyes, then imagine I'm back home and Nana's making dinner. Creamy Italian sausage and potato soup. My favorite .

My head thunks against the wall outside my nest. "I miss you, Nana," I whisper, allowing a few tears to fall for her. For the woman who raised me and loved me more than my own mother. "I love you."

With a deep sigh, I wipe my tears and try to hold on to a rare moment of clarity during this heat cycle. On shaky legs, I tiptoe out of my room and down the stairs. It feels like the ghost of my nana is here, but it can't be. She's gone, so who's making her soup?

My heart gives an extra thud, then another until it's practically beating out of my chest. Sweat beads in my hands.

Voices, quite a few of them, meet my ears before I see them. My mates, all four of them bustling around my kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Except for Sam and Oliver, those two still bicker like they used to, I guess.

"The potatoes are done, Oliver," Samuel declares, trying to nudge his brother out of the way of the stove.

Oli pushes back, his brown curls bouncing with the effort. "No they aren't!"

Emmett huffs. "Guys, shut up," he hisses at them.

I stay where I am, knowing they will pick up on my scent soon, but this is the first glimpse I've gotten of them without whatever front they put up for me. And it's the first time I'm seeing Samuel since the disaster of buying this house.

Vincent just watches them, amusement in his gaze as he butters some garlic bread. But as I'm studying him, his attention shifts to me, and where I thought he'd panic at seeing me near the other guys, he just gives me a soft smile. I feel his unspoken question from here, and the support he offers. I know if I shake my head or show any sign of distress, he will follow my lead and make the others leave.

"Oliver, they're going to get mushy," Samuel murmurs close to Oliver, but his tone still bites.

I want to roll my eyes like I used to when he would get bossy, but I resist the urge and clasp my hands in front of me nervously.

Oli just continues to watch the boiling pot with concentration. "This is how Nana did it. She would set the timer to the correct amount, but wait another minute and a half."

Butterflies explode in my tummy, and maybe a little slick dampens my panties, but I ignore that part.

' Beta!'

My omega's excitement makes me smile since I share her feelings. I can't believe he remembered that detail.

Samuel looks thoughtful for a moment, then he nods. "Oh yeah! She did that with the spinach too, right? Except she gave the spinach an extra two minutes to wilt."

Emmett nods and a soft smile graces his plump lips like he's reminiscing. "God, I miss her," he says sadly, even while enjoying the memory.

' Alphas?'

Wrapping my instinctual side in a metaphorical hug, I take a step forward and make myself known. "Me too."

Everything stops. If I didn't know any better, I would assume I had the ability to stop time, but the boiling water evaporates that dream.

The three of them stand there staring dumbly at me like I'm the one that's a surprise. It's my kitchen they've made themselves at home in. And that's my nana's recipe they are ten seconds late on pulling potatoes for.

Vincent snorts, surprising me with how nonchalant he's being about all of this. "It's been a minute and forty seconds, Oliver."

"What?" the beta says, confused.

I gesture to the pot, making my way to the opposite side of the island from them. "The potatoes. They are now overcooked."

"Oh fuck!" Oli gasps and cranks the dial to simmer for the spinach to be put in. "I can't believe I messed it up. I'm so sorry, Amaya!"

I shrug. "That's alright. Nana used to get lost in her dancing and overcook them half the time, anyway."

"Oh my god." Emmett pales and shakes his head. "Please don't ever remind me of your nana's dancing ever again."

A giggle falls from my lips at the memory of Nana twerking around our small kitchen. The sound of my soft laughter causes silence to descend once again, making me uncomfortable.

I turn my pleading eyes on Vincent to make this less weird before the whine that's building in my throat slips free. Suddenly, the room feels too large and my breaths aren't deep enough.

Dishes clank before I'm surrounded by lemon goodness. Sniffing my alpha like a fiend, I settle into his comforting presence.

"What do you need, Omega?"

Omega, not Amaya.

My breaths stutter out as I struggle to piece together an answer to his question. Saying I don't know isn't an option. When my alpha pushes me, I know it's important.

Vincent let them inside, let them make me food. That means it's up to me. If he wasn't okay with them in our home, he wouldn't have let them take a step inside. Maybe he wouldn't have if I hadn't attacked all the things Oliver brought to my doorstep. Speaking of. I peel my head away from Vincent's safety and find Oliver shifting nervously directly across from me.

"Thank you," I croak. “For all the nest supplies and..." I trail off, not knowing what was in the plastic bags. I was too focused on the soft things, I guess.

Oliver's face softens into a look that makes me want to melt into his loving soul. "You never have to thank me for anything, Maya. But the nesting stuff was Emmett's doing. And the bags were groceries from Sam."

"Oh." I blush, tucking further into Vincent. "Well, thank you."

I don't think I can do this.

My omega is quiet, taking everything in, while my body trembles with nerves and probably a little hunger. I don't want to thank Samuel, but if he really did buy me groceries, I have to. I don't even really want to talk to Emmett either; his aura setting me on edge. It's easier with Oliver, but he directed the attention off of himself and now I'm left reeling.

I don't know what to do .

I look up, making eye contact with Vincent, who immediately understands. "Guys, why don't you dish up and eat out back? The fire pit is gas. You just have to turn the dial. We're eating and turning in for the night."

Three sets of nods with no complaints, just understanding and acceptance. Maybe even happiness? That can't be right. Vincent basically just told them to go outside like dogs so I could have some breathing room, which is fucking laughable because their scents are never leaving my house again after this little visit.

Maybe if I can pick apart their scents to focus on Vincent's and the aroma of my nana's soup, I can stay sane. Sane as in not perfuming for the men who broke my heart, which gets harder the longer I'm near them.

I don't want that, not with them. But I can't ignore how calm my omega is. She's been frantic, even in sleep since the heat spike yesterday, and I know it will only get worse. For now, having my other three mates making me dinner soothes something primal inside of me.

The need to be taken care of and Vincent having the opportunity to be everything I need him to be is a gift. And I'm in no position to turn it away.

I've had enough traumatic heats to last a lifetime. If Samuel, Emmett, and Oliver really want to help without anything in return, that's their prerogative. I'm just the omega with enough issues to know when I need some help.

If they're offering and my alpha has control of the situation, I'll take it. I will allow it because I'm so tired. Tired of fighting every day, of wrestling with my omega all the time, and exhausted from trying to be okay again.

I'm not okay, but this helps.

They're helping.

I just want a heat that isn't riddled with pain and loneliness.

So yes. I blink up at Vincent. "Two pieces of bread, please. Oh, and extra parm."