Page 285 of Psycho Pack

And of course, not to be outdone, Valek came up with his own way to add his personal touch to our home. A jar of preserved fingers, presented to me with a bow. Specifically the remaining fingers of that beta at the Refinement Center. He thought I'd like to have them.

He was right.

The alphas are both shirtless and sweating, their muscled bodies gleaming in the golden-pink light. Like a white wolf facing up against a big grizzly bear, and it's impossible to tell who's winning. That goes for the physical fight and the verbal blows they're trading, although I don't know how they can make out what each other is saying over the grunts and growls.

Especially since Whiskey can’t read Valek’s lips behind the silver-and-white scarf that somehow remains in place.

The sight of the two alphas sparring makes the back of my neck tingle with a familiar heat. It's been strengthening over the past couple of days, and I'm sure Plague has noticed. He told me he's going to pick up more heat suppressants for me while he's in the city with Wraith tonight, and the other alphas have been onedge all day. I keep catching them scenting the air when I walk by.

But I don't want to take those again.

This time, Iwantto go into heat.

I want to know what it's like now that we're a pack.

A family.

A family with a permanent home.

That's why I've been sneaking off to work on my nest whenever I have a spare moment. The private nesting room Plague had renovated for me is tucked away in a secluded corner of the villa, accessible only through a hidden door disguised as part of the ornate wall paneling. He presented it to me with uncharacteristic shyness, explaining that he wanted me to have a space that was entirely my own.

It's a den of marble, sure, but a den nonetheless. There are no windows, only rounded walls and a low, slanted ceiling.

And it's absolutely perfect for me.

I think of the luxurious pile of fabrics and blankets and pillows waiting for me there, all carefully selected by the pack during our shopping trip in Surhiira. Plague had plenty of extras delivered, too. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion he bought out the whole shop.

At the time, I was overwhelmed by the sheer variety and opulence of it all. Now, as my heat approaches, I'm grateful for every silky piece of fabric and plush cushion.

I've arranged and rearranged them countless times, driven by some primal instinct I don't fully understand. Each piece has to be just right, creating a cocoon of comfort and safety that smells of my alphas.

I've even caught myself purring as I work.

The other alphas have been giving the nesting area a wide berth, respecting my need for privacy. But I can sense their curiosity. Sometimes I catch them lingering near the hiddenentrance, scenting the air with poorly concealed interest. Especially now, with my oncoming heat intensifying my omega scent in the nest. It makes my chest warm, knowing they want to be close even as they hold themselves back.

And tucked away in one corner, carefully folded beneath the throw pillow embroidered withhome is where the pack is, are scraps of fabric I've stolen from each of them. One of Thane's belts, carefully coiled around the pile. A strip from one of Whiskey's tanks. The scarf Wraith accidentally tore on his sharp teeth. One of the cloths Valek uses to polish his knives. And one of Plague's gloves, liberated when he wasn't looking.

Maybe I should feel guilty about the theft, but it's nothing they'll miss—although Plague did go looking for the glove—and the omega in me purrs with satisfaction every time I catch their mingled scents.

It makes the nest feel complete.

Whiskey moves suddenly, snatching Valek's scarf in a burst of impulse. Valek responds immediately by socking him in the jaw, earning an angry snarl from Whiskey. The bigger alpha tackles Valek, slamming him to the ground on his back, and pins him down. Valek slams his knee up into Whiskey's gut and the other alpha falls off him with awoof.

The sight of the two alphas brawling makes a fresh wave of heat wash over me. My skin feels too tight, too sensitive. I want to strip off my clothes and go to my nest and roll around in their scents, marking everything in preparation for tonight.

But not yet.

First, we need to have dinner.

I have a special night prepared for us all.

Right now, Wraith is in the city with Plague, who's helping him with a laser treatment for his scars. The special crystal technology they use is gentler than traditional methods, which is crucial given Wraith's trauma. And he'll only need onesession. There isn't much they can do other than smoothing and softening the scar tissue with the laser because of the way he metabolizes sedatives and other medication, so he isn’t a candidate for anything more invasive even if he could mentally handle it.

I'm glad he wasn't worried I wanted him to do more when we talked this morning, before he went off with Plague. I reassured him I just want him to feel better and not be in so much pain, and I could tell from the lightness in his eyes that he believed me.

We’re all making progress.

Each in our own way.