Page 26 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Micah

T he morning light filtering through the kitchen windows felt different somehow.

It was charged with anticipation and the kind of nervous energy that comes before life-changing events.

I'd been up since four, unable to sleep through the subtle but unmistakable changes in Kit's scent that had been building all night. Her heat was close. Very close.

Charlie sat at the kitchen table, systematically working her way through a stack of pancakes while chattering excitedly about her upcoming adventure with Aunt Emma.

Her bag was packed and waiting by the door, stuffed with dinosaur books, art supplies, and enough clothing for a week-long expedition rather than a four-day visit.

"And Aunt Emma said we might go to the planetarium if the weather's bad," Charlie was saying, fork gesturing enthusiastically. "Did you know that some stars are actually dying when they look the brightest?"

"I did not know that," I said, refilling her orange juice glass. "That's very philosophical for seven in the morning."

"Everything's philosophical if you think about it hard enough," Charlie said seriously. "Like how Kit moving in wasn't just moving. It was the stars aligning to complete our pack."

Sometimes the things that came out of this kid's mouth made me wonder if she was actually an ancient soul in a seven-year-old body.

"Speaking of Kit," I said, glancing toward the stairs, "how is she this morning?"

Charlie's nose twitched slightly, her enhanced scent sensitivity kicking in. "She smells different. Warmer. Like flowers before a storm." She paused, considering. "But good different. Happy different."

Flowers before a storm. That was actually a remarkably accurate description of pre-heat scent changes. Charlie had always been unusually perceptive about pack dynamics.

"Where are Dad and Reed?" Charlie asked, apparently noticing the absence of the other two-thirds of our alpha contingent.

"Your dad's loading the last of Reed's stuff from his apartment," I said, starting a fresh pot of coffee that would be strong enough to fuel whatever the day brought. "And Reed's doing the final security check around the property."

What I didn't mention was that both men were also giving Kit space to wake up naturally, without the overwhelming presence of three anxious alphas hovering over her during what was likely the last calm morning before her heat hit.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made both Charlie and me look up. Kit appeared in the doorway wearing one of Jonah's old flannel shirts over leggings, her hair mussed from sleep and her scent carrying those telltale warm, honeyed notes that made my alpha instincts hum with awareness.

She was so close.

"Good morning," she said softly, her voice carrying the slight huskiness that often preceded heat. "Something smells incredible."

"Pancakes," Charlie announced proudly. "Micah made them shaped like dinosaurs because it's my last breakfast before my adventure."

Kit's smile was warm but tinged with an emotion I couldn't quite read. "That's very thoughtful. How are you feeling about your trip?"

"Excited! But also a little..." Charlie paused, apparently searching for the right word. "Protective? Like I want to make sure everything's going to be okay here while I'm gone."

Protective. This kid continued to amaze me with her emotional intelligence.

"Everything's going to be perfectly fine," Kit said, settling into the chair beside Charlie and accepting the cup of coffee I slid across the table. "We're just going to have a quiet few days while you have your adventure."

"Promise you'll take good care of each other?" Charlie asked, looking between Kit and me with the seriousness of someone entrusted with important family business.

"I promise," Kit said solemnly. "And you promise to have so much fun that you come back with a million stories to tell?"

"Deal."

The easy interaction between them made my chest warm. Kit had slipped into the maternal role so naturally, so completely, that it was hard to remember a time when she hadn't been part of our family dynamic.

The front door opened, bringing with it the scent of morning air and the sound of Jonah's voice calling out, "Emma's here early!"

Charlie immediately bounced up from her chair, pancakes forgotten in the excitement of departure. "She's here! She's here!"

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of last-minute reminders, extra hugs, and Charlie's detailed instructions about proper care for her various stuffed animals in her absence.

Emma, Jonah's sister-in-law, was a patient woman who clearly adored her niece and was genuinely excited about their planned adventures.

"You sure you have everything?" Jonah asked for the third time, checking Charlie's backpack with the thoroughness of a man who'd learned that forgotten items could derail entire expeditions.

"Dad, I'm seven, not two," Charlie said with exaggerated patience. "I can remember to pack underwear."

"And your..."

"And my inhaler, and my allergy medicine, and the emergency contact list, and enough books to read to a small army," Charlie finished. "I've got everything."

Kit knelt down to Charlie's level, her expression tender. "You're going to have such a wonderful time. I want to hear about every single dinosaur you see."

"I'll take pictures," Charlie promised, throwing her arms around Kit's neck. "And I'll bring you back something special."

"Just bring yourself back safely," Kit said, hugging her tightly. "That's all I need."

After Emma's car disappeared down the driveway, the house fell into an unusual quiet. Without Charlie's bright chatter, the space felt larger, more adult, charged with the unspoken awareness of what was coming.

Kit was standing in the living room, staring out the window with an expression that mixed anticipation with nervousness. Her scent had intensified in just the past hour, the warm honey notes becoming more prominent, more compelling.

"How are you feeling?" I asked gently, approaching slowly so as not to startle her.

"Different," she said honestly. "Not bad different, just... aware. Like my body knows something's about to happen."

"It's like tuning into a frequency you can't hear yet," I said. "That's just your hormones adjusting."

She turned to face me, her eyes bright with curiosity rather than fear. "Is it always like this? The anticipation?"

"It depends on the circumstances," I said carefully. "If you're with alphas you trust, in a space where you feel safe, anticipation can be part of the pleasure. If you're not..." I let the sentence hang, not wanting to bring up her past experiences with Marcus unless she did.

"I've never felt safe during a heat before," Kit said quietly. "Marcus always made it feel like something to be managed, controlled. Not something to be enjoyed."

The casual mention of her ex made my jaw clench with suppressed anger, but I kept my voice gentle. "Heat is supposed to be about pleasure and bonding and the deepest kind of intimacy. What Marcus put you through wasn't real heat. It was just biology he used to control you."

Kit's scent shifted slightly, warming with something that might have been relief. "I'm trying to unlearn a lot of things he taught me."

"And we're going to help you learn what it's supposed to feel like," I said, meaning it completely. "No pressure, no expectations except that you feel cherished and safe."

The back door opened, and Reed's voice called out, "Property's secure. All systems go."

He appeared in the living room, his hair slightly mussed from whatever outdoor work he'd been doing, his scent carrying notes of satisfaction and readiness that made the air between us feel more charged.

When Reed stepped closer, her breath caught. Not in fear, but in some primal recognition she didn't fight.

"How's our omega?" he asked, his eyes immediately finding Kit and cataloging her state with the focused attention of an alpha approaching his mate's heat.

"Getting close," I said. "I'd guess we have maybe twelve hours before it really starts."

"Good," Reed said, settling into the chair across from where Kit and I stood. "Gives us time to get everything perfect."

"Everything?" Kit asked.

"Your nest," Jonah said, appearing from the direction of the kitchen. "The most important part of heat preparation is making sure your nesting space is exactly what you need."

Kit's eyes lit up with interest rather than anxiety. "I thought we'd use the nest Charlie and I built in the bonus room."

"That was practice," Reed said with a grin. "This is the real thing. Master bedroom, proper space for all of us, everything you could possibly need for comfort and safety."

All of us. The casual mention of our shared participation in her heat made Kit's cheeks flush, but she didn't look away.

"Will you help me?" she asked, the question directed at all three of us. "I'm still learning what I actually like versus what I was told I should like."

"It would be our honor," I said simply.

The master bedroom had been transformed in preparation for this moment. The bed had been moved to create more floor space, extra blankets and pillows were stacked on every surface, and the lighting had been adjusted to create the kind of warm, safe atmosphere that promoted omega comfort.

"Oh," Kit breathed, looking around the space. "You've been planning this."

"We've been hoping for this," Jonah corrected gently. "There's a difference."

Kit moved slowly around the room, her fingers trailing over the soft fabrics, her scent growing warmer as she explored the space that would become her sanctuary.

"So how does this work?" she asked. "The nest building?"

"However you want it to work," I said. "This is your space, your comfort, your needs. We're just here to help and contribute whatever you'd like from us."