Page 78 of His Drama Queen

The cashmere is softer than I imagined. Like being wrapped in clouds. The weighted blanket grounds me, makes me feel secure instead of floating. The pillows cradle me from every angle. The silk is cool against my overheating skin. The faux fur is decadent, ridiculous, perfect.

And the scent. Their scents surrounding me, layered into every soft thing. My body responds immediately. The ache dulls. Thedesperate edge softens. Just being in a nest saturated with pack scent is helping.

"Good?" Oakley asks.

"It's perfect." My voice cracks. "It's really perfect."

Another wave builds but it's different now. Manageable. My body knows it's safe here. Knows it's cared for.

"Don't leave," I say.

"We're not going anywhere," Dorian promises.

They arrange themselves around the nest. Dorian sits on the edge of the bed, his thigh pressed against the cashmere I'm wrapped in. Oakley climbs in carefully, settling near my feet, his hand coming to rest on my ankle. Corvus sits at the headboard, close enough that I can feel his presence.

Small touches. Careful. Nothing demanding.

My head finds its way to Dorian's thigh. He goes very still.

"Okay?" I ask.

"Yes." His hand hovers over my hair. "Can I?"

I nod.

His fingers card through my hair slowly. Gently. Just touch. Just comfort.

Oakley's thumb traces small circles on my ankle. His other hand rests on my calf. Warm. Steady.

Corvus's fingers brush my shoulder. Then my arm. Light touches that ground me.

"This is good," I murmur. My eyes are drifting closed. The heat is making me drowsy between waves. "The nest. Everything. You did good."

"Three stores," Oakley repeats. "Dorian tried to buy one of everything."

"I wanted options," Dorian defends.

"You wanted to throw money at the problem," Corvus corrects.

"Same thing."

"It's not—"

"Shh." I burrow further into the cashmere. "Don't care. Just... keep touching."

They do.

Fingers in my hair. Thumb on my ankle. Hand on my shoulder. Gentle. Careful. Reverent, almost.

The nest smells like us. Feels like safety. Looks like something out of a magazine with all the expensive softness.

My body relaxes completely. For the first time since the heat started building, I'm not fighting it. Not scared of it.

I'm just... here. In the soft things. With the pack.

"Thank you," I whisper. "For the cashmere. And the silk. And all of it."

"You're welcome," Dorian says against my hair.