Page 33 of Ruin Me Knot
"You can move it, Leah. Any way you want." Jax sits back, relaxed and easy on the couch.
My gaze strays back to the cushion but I don’t get the normal gut-punch about touching something I shouldn’t. My fingers tingle and…I don’t feel the usual restriction because this cushion isn’t a regular Omega nesting cushion I’ve only seen in magazines when I was young. It’s a different size and texture. No less beautiful or soft. This cushion isn’t made purely for an Omega nest. It’s made for a couch. There are no rules for couches.
The blankets piled in the corner are throw blankets, not nesting blankets. I spy fluffy robes, like the one I’m wearing in the mix. The towels are in variouscolors. It’s a mismatch of tones and fabric and articles of different shapes and sizes and…the band around my chest loosens. Just enough to let a full breath slip in. The usual dread doesn’t drop like a stone in my gut. There’s just an odd, light flutter. My fingertips brush the knit of one of the throw rugs. It’s soft, fuzzy and I take it and brush it against my cheek and…there are no wasps in my gut.
Then the arm of the couch looks all wrong. It’s too bare, and I can’t stifle the urge to cover it with the throw and smooth it with my palm. I expect another shot of panic because I’m touching a blanket, but my fingers tighten in the throw rug anyway. The softness under my touch is strange, but not wrong. There’s nothing lurking in the fibers, no threat hiding in the fringe. Just warmth, color, comfort. I draw a shaky breath, glancing at Jax from beneath my lashes.
He’s still, hands loose on his knees, the hint of a smile on those full lips. "Nice choice. You want to pick another?"
I inhale a hit of his scent and it’s clean. Clear of threat and the urge to spread another fabric on another part of the couch is all-consuming. I grab a towel this time and rise to spread it across the back, tucking it in until it’s in exactly the right place. I snatch another pillow, tucking it beside the first until it fits just so. I lose myself to the task of moving, smoothing, building.
The softness piles up around me until there’s a horizon of cushions and warmth at my back, layers nestling against my sides. I don’t remember moving this much, but now the whole corner is made soft by my own hands and still I’m driven to complete whatever it is I’m doing.
I lose track of time, caught up in the rhythm of choosing, smoothing, perfecting. All that matters is the growing cocoon of mismatched fabrics and pillows, each one slotted into place by some deep instinct I can’t name but trust completely in this moment. The house falls away: only the colors, the warmth beneath my hands, and the impossible safety rising around me. I don’t think, I just build, following the silent map inside me and when I burrow into the pile of material, every inch of my bodymelts.
Jax grins, the pride in his voice unmistakable. "That’s a beautiful nest, Leah."
A…nest? I’ve built anest?
Shock punches through me. Disquiet sparks, cold and sharp, threatening to close my throat. Shouldn’t build a nest. It’s bad. Forbidden. This is wrong. I should have known better. Why did I forget myself? How could I have been so stupid? Stupid, stupid,stupid. My fist forms over my racing heart and my mind crowds with all the ways I’m going to be punished, because this was a test and I failed, and…
"Good Omega." Jax’s voice slices through suffocating tar inside my skull as though it has no right to exist and then a deep thrumming sounds in his chest. He’s purring. For me. The sound zeroes in on my Omega soft center, tangling through my belly and spinning a web of warmth around old, bruised places. My Omega shivers, drawn out into the open by that gentle rumble that strokes at every bare nerve, every tight muscle, until I don’t know whether to cry or beg.
The smile on his lips match the looseness in his shoulders. His scent is clean and clear, the smoked vanilla dissipating the quagmire in my gut. Something inside me unspools. The simmering heat roars back to life. My blood rushes, pulse throbbing between my legs, in my chest, in my clit, everywhere all at once. Every inch of me aches with a desperation that I can’t ignore.
I breathe Jax in, and my hindbrain’s jaws snap open.
Alpha.
Mine.
Oh Gods! No!
No!
Panic flares, crowding my chest. I need to rip the nest apart. Need to find a door to lock. These Alphas are dangerous because they have a way of slipping past every defense I have but my Omega unfurls to the low purr vibrating from Jax’s chest and she’s fast and greedy. Needing. Wanting. And I realize she’s been the one guiding my actions since I came back to my senses. I try to clamp her down again because we both must survive, but my Omega doesn’t care.
She has no caution. No brakes, and she…shetruststhese Alphas.
She wants, pure and fierce. For the first time her voice is louder than my fear, and then heat licks up my belly, base instinct a tidal pull against my mind. I try tofight, but each beat of that Alpha purr weaves me deeper, pulling me into safety, into something that feels dangerously close to hope, and…
I can’t hold her back. She’s stronger than I’ve ever felt her. I’m torn between terror and craving, between running and melting into the space they’ve made for me. She’s a damn traitor and…
My thighs rub together as a whine builds in my chest and I…
"Come to me, Omega. Let me hold you. Let me take away your pain." Alpha’s scent holds truth. I want my Alpha’s strength. His comfort. Want everything he’s offering more than anything.
The other Alphas didn't take anything I wasn’t willing to give. They cared for me when I was vulnerable. Didn’t take from me when my instincts demanded more. They listened. Shielded me. Cocooned me.
My Omega rises stronger than ever.Alpha safe. Mate safe.
That side of me has never said that about any Alpha before. Not once. Not ever and I can’t—can’t—stop my hands from rising because I want my Alpha like my next breath and I know he’ll give me everything I ask for. "Alpha, please."
Chapter Fifteen
Jax
Leah peeks out from the nest she built, her eyes wide and bright, lashes brushing the pillows, hair falling loose where she’s tunneled in. There’s a hesitant glow in her, like ember-light catching in the dark.
