Page 11 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Kit

C harlie had transformed Jonah's living room into what could only be described as a nesting laboratory.

Blankets of every texture and color were sorted into careful piles, pillows were arranged by size and softness, and there was an actual notebook where she'd been taking what appeared to be very serious notes.

"Okay," she said, consulting her research with the gravity of a scientist about to cure cancer. "The internet says that omegas need different zones in their nests. Like, a sleeping zone, a comfort zone, and a... um..." she squinted at her notebook. "A 'sensory regulation zone'?"

I bit back a smile. "That sounds very official."

"I looked it up!" Charlie said proudly. "Because Dad said I should research before I give advice, and I want to make sure your nest is perfect."

Perfect. The word hit me harder than it should have. When was the last time anyone had cared enough about my comfort to research the best way to provide it?

Marcus certainly never had. His idea of nesting had been expensive sheets and a designer headboard. Beautiful to look at, but sterile. Cold. Nothing like the warm chaos Charlie was proposing.

"So where do we start?" I asked, settling cross-legged on the floor beside her.

"First, we figure out what makes you feel safe," Charlie said, her young face serious with concentration. "Do you like to be up high or down low? Open spaces or cozy corners? Soft things or firm things?"

Each question felt like a small revelation. I'd spent so long adapting to Marcus's preferences, to what looked right in his perfectly curated apartment, that I'd forgotten I was allowed to have my own.

"I think... cozy corners," I said slowly. "And soft things. Lots of soft things."

"Good!" Charlie made a note. "Dad likes corners too. Says it makes him feel like nothing can sneak up on him."

I looked up to find Jonah watching us from the kitchen doorway, his expression soft with something I couldn't quite name. When our eyes met, he offered a small smile that made my stomach flutter.

"Charlie's very thorough with her research," he said, moving closer. "Fair warning, she's been watching YouTube videos about omega comfort for the past week."

"YouTube has videos about that?" I asked, surprised.

"YouTube has videos about everything," Reed said, settling onto the couch behind us. "I once learned how to rewire a vintage motorcycle from a teenager in Oregon."

The casual domesticity of it, all of us gathered in Jonah's living room, planning my comfort like it was the most natural thing in the world, made my throat tight with emotion I wasn't ready to examine.

"Okay, Kit," Charlie continued, oblivious to my internal crisis. "What about scents? The research says omegas need familiar scents to feel really safe."

"I... don't really have any," I admitted. "I left most of my things behind when I moved."

Left most of my life behind when I ran, would have been more accurate, but Charlie didn't need those details.

"That's okay!" Charlie said cheerfully. "We can fix that. Dad's flannel shirts are really good for nesting. They smell like wood and coffee. And Micah gave me one of his aprons that smells like cinnamon. And Reed's got this old jacket that's super soft."

The matter-of-fact way she offered pieces of her father's and friends' clothing made my omega instincts perk up with interest. The idea of being surrounded by their scents, of building a nest that smelled like safety and care, was more appealing than I wanted to admit.

"Charlie," Jonah said gently. "You can't just volunteer other people's clothes."

"Why not? It's for Kit's nest. That's important."

"It is important," Jonah agreed. "But Kit gets to decide what she wants in her space."

The careful way he said it, like my autonomy was something precious to be protected, made my chest warm. Marcus had never asked what I wanted. He'd simply decided what was appropriate and expected me to be grateful.

"I would... I would like that," I said quietly. "If you're sure you don't mind."

Something shifted in the air between us, a charge of awareness that made my skin prickle.

The idea of sleeping surrounded by their scents, of marking myself with their comfort, felt intimate in a way that had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with the growing pull I felt toward all three of them.

"Of course we don't mind," Reed said, his voice rougher than usual. "Whatever makes you feel safe."

Charlie, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents swirling around her, had moved on to pillow arrangement theories. But I caught the way Micah's eyes had darkened slightly, the way Jonah's hands had clenched at his sides.

They felt it too. This thing building between us, this sense of rightness that I was trying so hard to resist.

"Can we start with just one blanket?" I asked, needing to break the tension before I did something stupid like ask them to scent me properly. "Maybe in the bonus room? Just to see how it feels?"

"Yes!" Charlie jumped up, already gathering supplies. "Dad, can Kit borrow your green flannel? The really soft one?"

"Sure, buttercup." Jonah disappeared upstairs, returning with a shirt that made my omega side practically purr.

It was worn soft from years of washing, and when he handed it to me, the scent that rose from the fabric, cedar and clean sweat and something uniquely him.

It made my head spin in the best possible way.

"Thank you," I managed, probably holding onto the shirt longer than was strictly necessary.

We migrated to my duplex, Charlie carrying an armload of carefully selected pillows while the adults trailed behind with blankets and what appeared to be a checklist of optimal nesting configurations.

My bonus room looked different with five people in it: smaller, but also warmer.

More alive. Charlie immediately began arranging pillows in what she declared was a "scientifically optimal semicircle," while Reed examined the window for draft potential and Micah produced a thermos of something that smelled like chamomile and honey.

"For relaxation," he explained, handing me a cup. "Nesting can be emotionally intense."

That was certainly one way to describe the way my hands were shaking as I watched three alphas help create a space designed entirely around my comfort and safety.

"Okay, Kit," Charlie announced. "Time for the test run."

"Test run?"

"You have to try out the nest. Make sure it feels right." Charlie gestured to the arrangement of blankets and pillows like she was presenting a masterpiece. "The internet says you'll know if it's wrong because your omega will feel unsettled."

My omega was definitely feeling something, but unsettled wasn't the word I'd use. As I settled into the nest Charlie had created, pulling Jonah's flannel around my shoulders, I felt a sense of rightness that was almost overwhelming.

"How does it feel?" Charlie asked anxiously.

"Perfect," I said, and meant it. "It feels perfect."

The relief on Charlie's face was worth any awkwardness about accepting so much help. But when I looked up at the three alphas watching me settle into the nest they'd helped build, their expressions were anything but casual.

Hunger. Satisfaction. Possessiveness.

The look of alphas seeing their omega properly nested for the first time.

Their omega . The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it made something deep in my chest purr with contentment.

"We should let you rest," Jonah said, his voice carefully controlled. "Nesting can be exhausting."

"No, it's okay," I said quickly, not ready for them to leave. Not ready to lose this feeling of belonging, of being cared for by people who asked nothing in return. "I mean, unless you have somewhere else to be?"

"Nowhere else," Reed said immediately.

"I brought cookies," Micah added, producing a container from seemingly nowhere. "Thought we might need sustenance."

Charlie had already made herself comfortable on the floor beside the nest, pulling out a picture book about dinosaurs. "Can I read to you? Mom used to say that new nests needed good stories to make them feel like home."

The casual mention of her mother, the easy way she included me in family traditions, made my eyes burn with unexpected tears.

"I would love that," I said.

As Charlie began reading about triceratops migration patterns, her young voice filling the room with warmth and wonder, I found myself relaxing in ways I hadn't in months. Maybe years.

Jonah had settled into the chair by the window, close enough to reach if I needed anything.

Reed was sprawled on the floor, occasionally commenting on Charlie's dramatic interpretations of dinosaur social dynamics.

Micah had curled up in the corner with his own book, but I caught him watching me with soft eyes every few pages.

Pack , my omega whispered, recognizing something my rational mind was still fighting.

For the first time since fleeing Chicago, I let myself imagine what it might be like to stay. To build something real with these men who offered comfort without strings, who created safety without cages.

To finally come home.

Charlie's voice began to slow as she worked through a particularly complex passage about fossil evidence, and I felt my own eyelids growing heavy.

The combination of their scents, the soft nest beneath me, and the simple pleasure of being read to was more relaxing than any spa treatment Marcus had ever paid for.

"Sleep," Jonah said softly when he noticed my drowsing. "We'll be here."

We'll be here. And for some reason, I knew he meant not just for today, but for as long as I needed them.

As I drifted off, wrapped in Jonah's flannel and surrounded by the quiet sounds of people who cared about me, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I'd found something worth fighting for.

Even if I had to fight myself to keep it.