Page 101 of Pack Owned
Static buzzes in my hands as I head to my Alpha’s bedrooms. Dane’s room is first. I fling open the door, the familiar scent of antiseptic and him - cedar and cinnamon - washing over me. Ignoring the lump in my throat, I snatched his scratchy army blanket, the one that still held a faint campfire whiff, and yanked pillows off the bed. The scent of him clung to everything. Yum!
Liam’s space screams organized chaos and the total opposite Dane’s perfectionism. Seabreeze and sandalwood replace the antiseptic. I snag his worn leather recliner throw and a coupleof those ridiculously plush pillows with faded video game characters I vaguely recognize.
Next, Ryker’s door creaks open with a groan. Smoke and leather fill me. My breath hitches as I grab his heavy leather motorcycle jacket and the black satin pillows. Each item is a piece of the puzzle that is him.
Back in the library, I collapse under my haul. I arrange the books, pillows, and such in a circle around me.
I sit back on my heels and survey the cocoon I’ve built. It’s perfect, a haven crafted from the very essence of my Alphas.
“Kayla?” A voice cuts through the stillness, and I freeze. It’s Liam, his tone laced with confusion and concern.
For a moment, he stands there gaping at me with his mouth opening and closing. Never seen Liam without a crooked smile or a comeback.
“Y-You’re nesting?”
“Looks like it.” I giggle. Funny, how I read about this and thought I’d recognize it as soon as it happened to me. But I’ve been so focused on making this reading space just right, that it hadn’t clicked until now when he asked.
“Be right back.” He spins on his heel and bolts before I can say another word.
Where the hell is he going?
Minutes tick by, the tension thickens, and then Liam’s back, arms loaded with sandwiches, chips, and bottles of water. Ryker and Dane trail behind him; their presence fills the room, eases the tightness in my chest. Dane carries in a clear, plastic container and I can see from here it looks like cookies. Yummy, cause I bet they’re homemade and my fav.
“Thought you might be hungry,” Liam says.
“Yeah. Thanks.” We gather in the nest, a tangle of limbs and quiet breaths. No words are needed, just them here with me is enough to keep my heart from racing.
After we eat, Ryker sprawls on the edge of my nest, his heavy lids fluttering shut within minutes. The rise and fall of his chest is reassuring in its steadiness. Liam, phone in hand, thumbs swiping across the screen with practiced ease, lost in whatever virtual battle he wages.
Dane... Dane sits close enough for our arms to touch, close enough that I feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He has out one of those military war books, and both of us start reading, side-by-side.
I’m cocooned between the lines of my book, sheltered by the strength of these men who’ve become my Alphas.
I lean into Dane slightly, craving the contact, the silent affirmation that we’re here together.
“Better?” Dane murmurs, not looking up from his book.
“Hell yeah,” I confirm. His presence, Ryker’s soft breathing, Liam’s occasional victorious grin—they’re my lifeline.
The scent of leather, smoke, sandalwood, and cedar weave through the air, lulling me into a sense of security that’s as intoxicating as it is dangerous because it whispers of things I’ve longed for but never dared believe I could have. Shelter. Love. Home.
I flip a page, but the words blur. My gaze drifts to the circle of blankets and pillows, each item a piece of the Alphas, now part of my makeshift sanctuary.
“Kayla?” Liam’s voice cuts through my reverie, sharp as a blade.
“Uh-huh?” I manage, tearing my eyes away from the nest.
“Everything okay?” There’s an edge of concern in his smooth tone, his green eyes meeting mine, searching.
“Sure, just... thinking.” I press my lips together, willing the worry that gnaws at my insides not to show on my face.
“About?” Dane’s deep voice joins in, his hand resting lightly on my knee, grounding me.
“Charlie,” I admit with a hesitant sigh. “We’re supposed to meet him for the registration stuff in three days.” I can’t keep the anxiety from seeping into my words.
Ryker stirs, somehow tuned into our tension despite his slumber.
I exhale, trying to push away the worry clawing at my insides. My gaze drifts to Dane’s hand still on my knee, his touch grounding. Ryker’s steady breathing syncs with the faint sound of Liam’s fingers tapping against his phone screen. The scents of cedar and cinnamon from Dane, smoke and leather from Ryker, sandalwood, and sea breeze from Liam—they all weave together, forming a cocoon of safety around me.
