Page 25 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Kit

T he evening air was crisp with the promise of autumn as I stood in the doorway of my duplex, looking around at the space that had been my sanctuary for the past few weeks. It seemed smaller somehow, emptier, like it had already begun the process of releasing me back into the world.

It was strange how little I actually owned. Two suitcases of clothes, a box of art supplies, my coffee maker, and a handful of personal items that had survived my flight from Chicago. Everything that mattered to me could fit in the back of my car with room to spare.

"You sure you don't want to keep anything else?" Reed asked, carrying the last box out to his truck. "We can always come back for more later."

"This is it," I said, taking one final look around. "I traveled light."

It hadn't been a choice. It had been survival.

Marcus had controlled so much of my life that when I'd finally found the courage to leave, I'd taken only what I could carry and what he wouldn't notice was missing. Thankfully I had my own bank account. There were a lot of omegas who’d been in my position that weren’t able to say the same thing.

But now all of that was behind me and I was moving toward something instead of away from it. Toward a family that wanted all of me, broken pieces and all.

Jonah appeared in the doorway, Charlie bouncing beside him with the kind of energy that suggested she was either very excited or had consumed too much sugar at dinner.

"Are you really moving in with us forever?" Charlie asked, her face bright with hope.

"If that's okay with you," I said, crouching down to her level.

"It's the best thing ever !" Charlie threw her arms around my neck in a hug that smelled like sunshine and childhood and everything good about new beginnings.

"I already cleared space in my art supplies for yours, and Dad said we can rearrange the living room so you have the best light for drawing. "

They'd been planning for my comfort, my needs, my happiness.

"That sounds perfect, sweetheart."

"And I helped Dad move furniture in your room, and Micah brought over some of his special tea blends, and Reed installed extra locks on all the doors." Charlie's enthusiasm was infectious, her excitement making everything feel like an adventure instead of another life upheaval.

"It sounds like you've all been very busy," I said, standing up and taking her hand.

"We wanted everything to be perfect for you," Charlie said seriously. "Because this is your home now."

Not a temporary arrangement or a safety measure, but home.

The walk across the yard felt symbolic, each step taking me further from the woman who'd arrived in Hollow Haven scared and alone, and closer to the one who was brave enough to choose love and trust and belonging.

Inside Jonah's house, everything looked different. Not physically. The furniture was the same, the layout mostly unchanged. But the energy felt expanded, like the space had grown to accommodate one more heart.

"Come see your room," Charlie said, tugging me toward the stairs.

The guest room had been transformed. Fresh flowers sat on the dresser, soft blankets were folded at the foot of the bed, and someone had arranged my art supplies on a small table by the window.

"Micah picked the flowers," Charlie said proudly. "And Dad got you new sheets because he said the old ones were probably scratchy. And Reed moved the table so you'd have the best light."

Each detail was a small act of love, evidence that they'd been thinking about my comfort and happiness in ways that made my chest warm.

"It's beautiful," I said, meaning it completely. "Thank you all."

"There's more," Charlie said, grabbing my hand again. "Come see what we did in the living room."

Downstairs, they'd rearranged the furniture to create a dedicated art space near the big window.

An easel stood ready with fresh paper, and a small cart held supplies within easy reach.

It wasn't elaborate, but it was thoughtful and practical and exactly what I would have wanted if I'd been brave enough to ask for it.

"This way you can draw while we watch movies," Charlie explained. "And you can see when people come to visit, and the light is really good in the mornings."

"Charlie's been planning this integration for weeks," Jonah said with fond exasperation. "She's got very specific opinions about optimal creative workspace arrangements ."

"I researched it," Charlie said defensively. "Artists need good light and comfortable seating and easy access to supplies."

"Well, you did an excellent job," I said, running my fingers over the smooth wood of the easel. "This is perfect."

Reed appeared from the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine and wearing an expression of satisfaction that suggested he'd been enjoying the evening's activities.

"Micah's in the kitchen putting together what he calls a 'transition feast,'" Reed said. "Apparently moving into a new pack requires specific nutritional support."

"Everything requires specific nutritional support according to Micah," Jonah said with a smile.

As if summoned by his name, Micah appeared in the doorway wearing an apron and carrying a platter of something that smelled incredible.

"Comfort food," he announced. "Mac and cheese with truffle oil, garlic bread, and those little chocolate tarts Kit likes from the bakery."

He'd been paying attention to my preferences, storing away information about what made me happy.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," I said.

"It's not trouble," Micah said firmly. "It's a celebration. Our pack is complete now."

The words settled in my chest like a warm ember.

We gathered around the dining table, and for the first time since arriving in Hollow Haven, I felt the deep satisfaction of being exactly where I belonged.

Charlie chattered about her upcoming adventure with Aunt Emma, Reed told stories about his latest renovation project, and Micah fussed over making sure everyone had enough food.

It was domestic and comfortable and everything I'd dreamed family dinners could be.

"So tomorrow I go to Aunt Emma's," Charlie said around a bite of mac and cheese. "She said we can go to the natural history museum and see the new dinosaur exhibit."

"That sounds amazing," I said. "You'll have to tell me all about it when you get back."

"I will. And while I'm gone, you can get settled and maybe build a really good nest." Charlie's matter-of-fact mention of my approaching heat made my cheeks flush, but none of the adults seemed uncomfortable with her directness.

"Charlie," Jonah said gently, "what did we talk about regarding privacy?"

"That some things are pack business and some things are private business," Charlie recited. "But nests are pack business because everyone contributes scent items."

The way she talked about pack dynamics, like it was as normal as brushing her teeth, reminded me how much I still had to learn about this new life I was choosing.

"Speaking of which," Reed said, standing up, "I should probably get my stuff moved over from my place."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"No time like the present," Reed said with a grin. "Besides, your heat could start any time now. Better to get settled before that happens."

My heat. The part of me I'd spent years dreading was now something I wasn't afraid to face.

"Do you need help?" Jonah asked.

"I've got it handled. Most of my important stuff is already here anyway." Reed's casual mention of having belongings at Jonah's house suggested this living arrangement had been developing gradually, naturally.

"What about you, Micah?" I asked. "When do you move in?"

"I'm already partially moved in," Micah said with a smile. "I've been keeping clothes here for weeks, and most of my personal stuff is pretty minimal. I'll just need to coordinate the bakery schedule so I can be here when you need me."

When you need me. Not if, but when. Like my needs were a certainty they were all prepared to meet.

After dinner, we settled into the living room with the comfortable ease of people who genuinely enjoyed each other's company.

Charlie curled up against my side, working on a drawing of what appeared to be a very friendly triceratops, while the men coordinated tomorrow's logistics with the kind of efficiency that spoke of years of partnership.

"Aunt Emma will pick Charlie up at nine," Jonah said. "That'll give us time to get everything settled before..."

He trailed off, but we all knew what he meant. Before my heat hit and everything became about biology and bonding and the kind of intimacy that would change everything between us.

"Are you nervous?" Charlie asked quietly, apparently having followed the same train of thought.

"A little," I admitted. "But good nervous. Like Christmas morning nervous."

"That's the best kind of nervous," Charlie said sagely. "It means something good is about to happen."

Something good was about to happen.

As the evening wound down, I found myself reluctant to let it end. This feeling of belonging, of being surrounded by people who cared about my wellbeing, was still new enough to feel precious and fragile.

"I should let you get Charlie to bed," I said eventually.

"Actually," Jonah said, "Charlie wanted to ask you something."

Charlie looked up from her drawing with an expression of hope mixed with determination. "Will you read me a bedtime story? In my room? Like a real mom would?"

The phrase hit me square in the chest, both wonderful and terrifying in its implications.

"I would love to," I said, meaning it completely.

Charlie's bedtime routine was a well-orchestrated dance of tooth brushing, pajama changing, and the careful selection of exactly the right stuffed animals to provide optimal sleep support.

I watched Jonah navigate it all with the practiced ease of a single parent who'd been doing this alone for years.

But tonight, he wasn't alone. Tonight, Charlie had two people tucking her in.

"This one," Charlie said, selecting a well-worn copy of a book about a brave little dinosaur who learned that being different was actually a superpower.

I settled into the chair beside her bed, acutely aware of Jonah's presence in the doorway as I began to read. Charlie's eyes grew heavy as the story progressed, but she fought sleep with the determination of someone who didn't want this perfect day to end.

"Kit?" she whispered as I closed the book.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Will you still be here when I get back from Aunt Emma's?"

"I'll be here," I promised. "This is my home now too."

"Good," Charlie said, her eyes finally closing. "I love you."

Three simple words that changed everything.

"I love you too," I whispered back, meaning it with a depth that surprised me.

Downstairs, Reed had returned with a single duffel bag and was setting up what appeared to be a temporary sleeping arrangement on the couch.

"Is that really all you brought?" I asked.

"I'm a simple man with simple needs," Reed said with a grin. "Besides, most of my important stuff has been migrating here gradually. Tools in Jonah's garage, clothes in the spare closet, coffee preferences memorized by the household chef."

"Hey," Micah protested from the kitchen, where he was cleaning up dinner dishes. "I'm a baker who occasionally cooks, not a household chef."

"You're whatever we need you to be," Jonah said with the easy affection of long friendship. "Just like the rest of us."

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" I asked.

"Charlie leaves at nine," Jonah said. "I take the day off to make sure you're settled. Micah handles the morning rush at the bakery and then comes back. Reed finishes up his current project and then he's here full time."

"You're all taking time off for me?"

"Kit," Micah said gently, "your first heat in a safe environment, with people who care about you, is important. We want to make sure everything goes perfectly."

Like my comfort and pleasure were priorities instead of afterthoughts.

"I should probably get some sleep," I said, suddenly aware of how the evening's emotions had drained me. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

"Night, Kit," Reed said quietly as I passed. His fingers brushed mine, brief, careful, grounding.

I headed upstairs, hyper aware of the fact that this was my first night in this house as a permanent resident. My room felt different now that it was truly mine. Larger somehow, more welcoming, infused with the scents of the three men who'd welcomed me into their lives.

As I changed into pajamas and settled into bed, I could hear the soft murmur of their voices downstairs. Planning, coordinating, taking care of the details that would make my transition as smooth as possible.

Taking care of me.

For the first time since leaving Chicago, I fell asleep not to the sound of my own anxious thoughts, but to the comforting knowledge that I was surrounded by people who wanted me exactly as I was.

Tomorrow, Charlie would leave for her adventure. Tomorrow, my heat would probably begin. Tomorrow, everything would change again.

But tonight, I was home. I was safe. I was loved.