Page 9 of Heat Clickbait
She nodded against his neck, and I saw her lips move against his skin. Whatever she said was too quiet for the rest of us to hear, but Nova's hands tightened on her waist, and he breathed out something that was too quiet for me to hear and definitely not meant for polite company.
Three minutes. The house came into view. Relief washed over me at the sight of our carefully coordinated pack home with its high privacy fences and mature hedges and state-of-the-art security system. Most importantly, with the nest none of us talked about. The room we'd built for an Omega we'd never met, prepared for a situation we'd never thought would actually happen. And if we ever did admit to hoping it would happen, it definitely wouldn’t have been like this.
I pulled into the garage, and the door was already closing behind us before I'd fully stopped. The sudden darkness made Callie sigh with slight relief. Nova was already moving, lifting her like she was made of spun glass and stubborn determination.
"The nest," he said, and we all knew exactly what he meant. No discussion needed.
We moved as a unit through the house, years of living together making us efficient. Crash ran ahead to unlock doors, his usual chaos channeled into purpose. Milo adjusted the temperature controls as we passed, his baker's precision extending to creating the perfect environment. Blitz closed curtains and checked windows, his protective instincts on full display. I pulled up our security system on my phone, checking cameras, making sure we hadn't been followed, that the media circus hadn't somehow tracked us home. The notifications were going insane. There were hundreds of messages, tags, mentions. Video clips were already spreading across every platform like digital wildfire.
But none of that mattered as much as the Omega currently being carried to a room we'd built on instinct and hope and the kind of faith that felt foolish until it didn't.
The nest door opened, and Callie lifted her head from Nova's shoulder. Even in her state, even burning with pre-heat and overwhelmed by pheromones and coming apart at the seams, she gasped.
"You built this?" Her voice was small, wondering, like she'd discovered something impossible. "For someone you'd never met?"
The room was perfect. It had temperature-controlled zones for different preferences, soft fabrics in every texture imaginable, subtle lighting that could be adjusted from bright morning sun to gentle twilight. The center depression was filled with pillows and blankets that had been scented by each of us over months of preparation, creating a symphony of comfort and safety.
"We built it for you," Crash said, then immediately looked shocked at his own words. "I mean, not you specifically, but?—"
"We built it for our Omega," Nova corrected, still holding her at the threshold like a groom carrying his bride. "The one we didn't know we were waiting for."
She looked at the room, really looked, taking in every detail we'd obsessed over. The soft lighting, the carefully chosen colors, the way everything was designed around comfort and safety and the needs of someone like her.
"Take me in," she whispered, and it wasn't a request.
Nova carried her into the nest, and the moment she touched those prepared fabrics, something in the air shifted fundamentally. Her scent bloomed fully, finally, released from whatever last restraint had been holding it back. Sugar and spice and everything we'd been missing without knowing we were incomplete.
The door closed behind us with a soft click that sounded like fate.
Outside, the internet exploded with speculation and judgment and viral moments that would define careers.
Inside, the only thing that mattered was keeping her safe through what was coming.
CHAPTER FIVE
Callie
The moment Nova's arms set me down in the center of their nest, my knees gave out completely. Not the gradual weakening I'd been fighting in the car, but immediate collapse, like someone had cut my strings. The fabrics beneath me, silks and cottons and something that felt like cashmere, caught my fall with a whisper that sounded like coming home.
"Oh god," I breathed, fingers digging into a blanket that smelled like Milo, brown butter and cinnamon and safety. My body rolled without conscious thought, pressing my face into the materials, breathing deep. Each inhale brought a different Alpha's scent, layered and combined but still distinct, like an olfactory symphony they'd been composing for months without knowing who would hear it.
The room itself defied every expectation I'd had about Alpha pack nests. Instead of the stark, utilitarian spaces I'd seen in educational videos, this was... art. The walls shifted through subtle color gradations, warm amber fading to dusty rose before ending in deep purple. It was all painted in a way that made the boundaries feel infinite rather than confining. The lighting wasn't just adjustable; it responded to movement, dimmingwhen I curled into myself, brightening gently when I lifted my head.
"Temperature zones," Nova said from somewhere above me, his voice rough with barely controlled need. "The left side runs cooler for sleeping, the right stays warmer for... activities. The center maintains whatever temperature you're currently producing."
I was producing enough heat to power a small city. Sweat ran down my spine, soaking through my band tee, making the fabric cling in ways that should have been uncomfortable but just made me want to tear it off entirely. My skin felt too tight, like I'd grown three sizes and forgotten to upgrade my body.
"The air filtration system can handle any scent combination." That was Milo, and when I turned my head, I found him kneeling at the edge of the nest's main depression, hands pressed flat against his thighs like he was physically holding himself back from entering my space. "We wanted, whoever came here, to be able to control what they smelled. Or didn't smell."
A laugh bubbled up, hysterical and inappropriate. "You built a five-star hotel suite for someone who didn't exist."
"We… built… hope," Ghost said, and the fact that he'd spoken actual words out loud made everyone freeze. His dark eyes met mine across the carefully arranged space.
"We built what we needed to believe was possible," Crash added.
The honesty of that simple statement shattered something in my chest. These five successful Alphas, with their millions of subscribers and perfect coordination, had been nursing the same desperate hope that every lonely person harbored, that somewhere, someone was waiting for them.
Another wave of heat crashed through my system, stronger than before, and I curled into a ball, arms wrapped around my stomach. The movement made my shirt ride up, exposing astrip of skin that immediately felt hypersensitive to the climate-controlled air. Every nerve ending had apparently decided to compete for Most Dramatic Response to Stimuli.
