Page 10 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Reed

T he morning sun was barely peeking over the mountains when I pulled up to Kit's duplex with coffee and my toolbox.

The image of that black sedan cruising around town had been eating at me all night, and I wanted to double-check the security work I'd started installing when she'd first called, and get the cameras installed.

I'd texted Kit at seven to let her know I was coming. Her response had been immediate, almost like she'd been awake and waiting: Thank you. See you soon.

She opened the door before I could knock, looking like she hadn't slept much, but with a determined set to her jaw that I hadn't seen before.

Her scent hit me as she stepped aside. Vanilla and honey layered with something sharper.

Anxiety, yes, but underneath it a new note of resolve.

My alpha instincts stirred, then settled.

"You're early," she said, stepping aside to let me in. "But I appreciate the backup caffeine."

I held up the travel cups I'd brought from the diner. "Figured you might need the good stuff. I just want to run through a final check on everything we installed yesterday, make sure it's all working properly, and then get these cameras up."

"The new locks feel so solid," Kit said, automatically engaging both deadbolts behind me. "I actually slept better last night knowing they were there."

We moved to the kitchen, where Kit's own pot was already brewing. The space felt different today, warmer, more lived-in. Her scent had deepened into the walls, grounding the space. It was hers now.

"How are you feeling about today?" I asked, testing the window latch nearest the sink. "Charlie's been planning this nest project for days."

"Nervous," Kit admitted, wrapping her hands around her mug. "I haven't built a proper nest in... well, a long time. What if I don't remember how? What if I mess it up?"

The vulnerability in her voice tugged at something primal in me. "Kit, Charlie's seven. She's going to think anything you two build together is perfect."

"Is that your professional opinion, Mr. Fix-It?"

"That's my personal guarantee." I moved to check the motion sensor by the back door, satisfied with the steady green light. "Besides, from what I've seen, you've got good instincts about what makes a space feel like home."

"Do I?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"You picked this place, didn't you? Quiet street, good light, close enough to neighbors to feel connected but far enough for privacy." I nodded toward the kitchen details. Flowers in a mason jar, a cheerful dish towel, her coffee station set up by the window. "You're already making it yours."

Kit followed my gaze, seeing her space through my eyes. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."

"Sometimes the best choices are the ones we make without overthinking them."

We fell into easy conversation while I ran final checks, Kit asking questions about the system and me explaining how it all layered together. Her scent gradually mellowed as she relaxed, anxiety giving way to warmth and a note of quiet comfort. My alpha approved. It smelled like safety.

"Want to sit on the porch for a bit?" I offered once I'd confirmed everything was solid. "It's nice out, and I brought pastries from Micah."

"You're trying to spoil me," Kit said, but she was already heading for the door.

"Maybe a little."

We settled on her front steps with coffee and scones, watching Maple Crescent wake up around us. Mrs. Carrington was out in her garden. Somewhere in the distance, a lawn mower hummed, and kids' voices floated on the breeze.

"It's so peaceful here," Kit said. "I keep expecting something to interrupt it."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Sirens, traffic, the neighbor upstairs practicing violin at three in the morning." She took a bite of her scone. "It's been so long since I lived somewhere truly peaceful."

"Peace takes some getting used to," I agreed. "But once you settle into it, it's hard to imagine living any other way."

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I glanced at the message:

Tell your new friend that some problems can't be fixed with better locks.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

Kit's scent sharpened again in an instant, anxiety spiking as her body responded to my shift in energy.

"What is it?" she asked, tension sharpening her voice.

I showed her the screen. Her face went pale.

"How did they get your number?" she whispered.

They. Not 'he' or 'she' but they. Multiple people, or at least someone with backup. Someone she'd tangled with before.

"Small town," I said evenly, keeping my tone calm despite the adrenaline now screaming through my system. "It's not hard to find contact info if you know where to look."

But deep down, I knew better. That message came from a number with a masked origin, not even showing up in my call log properly. Whoever sent it wasn't just fishing. They had resources.

"Reed, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to involve you, or Jonah, or..."

"Hey." I reached for her hands. Cold, despite the warmth of the morning. Her scent lashed wild now, fear, guilt, the echo of flight. I gritted my teeth against the urge to scent-mark the porch just to settle her down.

"This isn't your fault. You didn't ask to be threatened."

"But I brought it here. To your town. To people who were just trying to help." Her voice cracked. "Maybe I should just go. Leave before this gets worse."

"Absolutely not."

The force in my voice startled her.

"Reed..."

"Kit, running didn't solve this before, and it won't now. They've already found you. The only question is: are you going to face them with backup, or face them alone?"

"I can't ask you to..."

"You're not asking. I'm offering." I stood and pulled her gently up with me. Her scent was still frayed around the edges, but underneath I caught something new. Not just hope. Trust. "And I'm not the only one. This town protects its own."

Kit stared at me, and something changed behind her eyes. She straightened.

"You're right. I promised Charlie we'd build that nest today. I'm not letting some coward with a phone ruin that."

There it was. The moment she chose to stay.

"Good," I said, smiling. "Because Charlie's been planning this for days. And disappointing that kid should be a criminal offense."

Kit's laugh wobbled, but it was real. "She really has been planning it, hasn't she?"

"Color-coded charts, Kit. Pillow schematics."

"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?"

"The best kind of trouble." I nudged her back inside to grab her keys. "Let's go face the nest-building committee."

As we walked the short path to Jonah's, I scanned every driveway, every vehicle, every shadow. My brain had clicked into full protective mode.

Kit walked closer to me than before, like she felt the shift.

"Reed?" she said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For not letting me run."

"Thank you for choosing to stay."

Charlie must've been watching because the front door flew open before we could knock.

"Kit! Reed! Are you ready for the best nest-building session ever?" She practically bounced. "I have everything organized by texture and comfort level!"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Kit said, ruffling her hair. "Lead the way, project manager."

Jonah appeared behind her, reading us in one glance.

"Everything okay?" he asked. His voice was casual, but his eyes were sharp.

"Everything's fine," Kit said.

I met Jonah's gaze and gave a slight shake of my head. We'd talk later.

"Good," he said simply. "Just know Charlie's got very strong opinions about optimal nest architecture."

"I've done research!" Charlie declared. "Did you know nests should have zones for sleeping, scent-marking, and emotional regulation?"

Kit's laugh this time was full and warm. "You're going to have to teach me everything."

As we stepped inside, I caught Jonah's arm. "We got a text. Someone's escalating."

His expression darkened. "How bad?"

"Bad enough. I'll fill you in."

"Understood."

I looked toward Kit, now crouched with Charlie over a pile of pillows and plush blankets. She was laughing again. She'd chosen to stay. Chosen to build something.

Whatever or whoever was hunting her?

They'd have to get through all of us first.