Page 3 of Nesting With My Three Alphas (Hollow Haven #1)

Kit

I woke at dawn out of habit, my body still programmed to Marcus's rigid schedule even though he was three hundred miles away.

The unfamiliar sounds of Hollow Haven filtered through the thin walls: birds I couldn't identify, and the distant hum of early commuters.

People starting their days in ordinary ways, and my thoughts suddenly turned to next door and what their morning would look like.

The memory of yesterday's introductions made my chest warm in a way I wasn't ready to examine. I'd spent two years in a sterile apartment where the only sounds were traffic and Marcus's disapproval. Waking up to the sound of Hollow Haven starting the day felt like stepping into someone else's life.

I padded to the kitchen in my oversized sleep shirt and fuzzy socks, grateful that I'd had the foresight to pack coffee in my emergency box.

The duplex looked different in the morning light, smaller somehow, but cozier too.

The hardwood floors gleamed golden, and dust motes danced in the sunshine streaming through the bare windows.

Windows that definitely needed curtains. Along with about a thousand other things that would make this place feel like home instead of just a shelter.

I was halfway through my first cup of coffee when I heard it, a soft whimpering sound that definitely didn't belong to any bird. It was coming from somewhere inside the duplex, which was impossible since I was the only one here.

Unless I wasn't.

Moving carefully, I followed the sound through the living room toward the back of the house. The whimpering got louder as I approached what the landlord had optimistically called a "bonus room," really just a glorified closet with a window.

I pushed open the door and froze.

Curled up in the corner like a lost puppy was Charlie, Jonah's daughter. She was still in her pajamas, dinosaur print flannel that had seen better days, and her dark hair stuck up at impossible angles. But it was the way she was positioned that made my omega instincts flare to life.

She'd arranged a blanket into a rough circle around herself, along with what looked like a throw pillow she'd somehow acquired and a small stuffed dragon that was clearly well-loved. Her little face was flushed with sleep, and she was making soft, distressed sounds that went straight to my heart.

She was nesting. In my house. In my space.

And instead of the territorial anger I should have felt, all I could think was how small she looked, how vulnerable. How my scent was probably already settling into the blankets around her, marking this space as somehow ours.

Dangerous territory. I hadn't taken my suppressant yet this morning. My scent would be stronger, more appealing to a pup looking for comfort.

"Charlie?" I said softly, not wanting to startle her.

Her eyes flew open, wide with panic. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I just..."

"Hey, it's okay." I crouched down slowly, the way I would approach any frightened creature. "You're not in trouble."

"I couldn't sleep last night," she whispered, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "And it smelled safe here. Like you. But then I started making a fort and I fell asleep and now Dad's gonna be worried and..."

"Charlie." My voice came out firmer than I intended, carrying just a hint of the omega authority I'd learned to suppress around Marcus. "Take a deep breath. You're safe, and you're not in trouble."

She inhaled shakily, her small body relaxing slightly as my scent wrapped around her. That was when I noticed it, the way my scent had settled into the space, mixing with hers to create something that felt dangerously like family.

I shouldn't want this. The thought hit me like a physical blow. Wanting got you caged.

But Charlie was looking at me with such trust, such complete faith that I would keep her safe, and I couldn't bring myself to pull away.

"Your nest is very nice," I said instead, settling cross-legged beside her makeshift fort. "You've got good instincts for texture contrast."

Charlie's face brightened immediately. "Really? I wasn't sure if I was doing it right. Dad doesn't really know about omega stuff, and I've never built a proper one before."

The casual way she mentioned her father's limitations hit me right in the chest. A single alpha raising a pup without omega guidance: no wonder Charlie had been drawn to my space.

"What about your mom?" I asked gently.

Charlie's expression dimmed slightly. "She died when I was little. Dad says she would have taught me about nesting and heat prep and all the omega stuff, but..." She shrugged with the heartbreaking acceptance of a child who'd learned too young that life wasn't fair.

Oh, sweetheart.

Before I could think better of it, I was reaching out to smooth her tangled hair. "I haven’t had the chance to make a real nest for… a long time. So long that I feel like I’ve forgotten most of it. Maybe we could learn together?"

"Really?" Charlie's whole face lit up. "You'd do that?"

"Of course." The words came out automatically, but as soon as I said them, I realized I meant it. When was the last time someone had looked at me like I had something valuable to offer? Like my omega knowledge was a gift instead of a weakness to be managed?

The sound of footsteps at the back door made us both freeze. Heavy, purposeful steps that could only belong to one person.

"Charlie?" Jonah's voice carried through the door, tight with barely controlled panic. "Charlie, are you in there?"

He thought something had happened to her. The terror in his voice made my heart clench.

"In here!" I called out. "She's safe!"

The door opened, and Jonah appeared in the doorway of the small room, his hair mussed like he'd been running his hands through it and his scent sharp with fear and protective fury. I'd apparently forgotten to lock it last night, and that must have been how Charlie got in.

His gaze took in the scene. Me kneeling on the floor in my sleep shirt, Charlie curled in her makeshift nest, the intimate domesticity of it all. Something shifted in his expression, something I couldn't quite read but that made my skin flush warm.

"Charlotte Mary Maddox," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "What did we talk about regarding other people's houses?"

"I know, but..."

"No buts." Jonah stepped into the room, and I caught the full force of his scent: cedar and clean sweat, but underneath it all, the metallic tang of real fear. "You scared me half to death, buttercup. I woke up and you were gone."

"I'm sorry, Dad." Charlie's voice was very small. "I just wanted to help Kit feel welcome."

Jonah's eyes met mine over his daughter's head, and I saw the exhaustion there.

The bone-deep weariness of a single parent who carried all the worry alone.

But there was something else too, something that looked almost like relief as he took in our mixed scents, the way Charlie had nestled so naturally into my space.

Jonah moved like someone who wouldn't hurt me. Which meant he probably would. Eventually. That was just math. The cynical thought rose automatically, a defense mechanism honed by two years of Marcus's careful manipulation.

But looking at him now, seeing the genuine fear for his daughter's safety, the careful way he held himself so as not to intrude on our space, it was hard to maintain that cynicism.

"It's okay," I said quietly. "She wasn't any trouble."

"That's not the point," Jonah said, but there was no heat in it. "Charlie, you can't just wander into people's houses. What if Kit hadn't been okay with it? What if she'd been scared?"

His protective instincts were showing, and damn if that wasn't the most attractive thing I'd ever seen. An alpha who understood that consent mattered, even when it came to a seven-year-old's nesting instincts.

"But she wasn't scared," Charlie protested. "She said my nest was nice."

Jonah's gaze sharpened, flicking to the arrangement of blankets and back to my face. "You nested here?"

"Just a little one," Charlie said defensively. "Her house didn't smell like anybody yet. It was lonely."

The silence that followed was loaded with undercurrents I didn't fully understand.

Jonah stared at the nest like it held secrets, and when he looked at me again, there was something new in his expression.

Something that made my omega instincts purr with satisfaction even as my rational mind screamed warnings.

He was cataloging our mixed scents. Approving of them.

The distant sound of church bells drifted through the window, a warm, community sound that reminded me this was a real place with real people who'd built traditions together. It was enough to wake me up to the reality of this situation.

"I should go," I said, starting to stand. "Let you two..."

"No." The word came out sharper than Jonah probably intended, and he immediately softened his tone. "I mean, you don't have to leave. This is your house."

"It's okay," Charlie piped up. "Dad makes pancakes on Saturday mornings. You could come eat with us if you want."

"Charlie," Jonah warned.

"What? She's probably hungry, and you will have made way too much batter again."

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I found myself smiling. "You know what? Pancakes sound really good."

Jonah blinked, clearly not expecting me to accept. "You don't have to..."

"I know." I stood up slowly, hyperaware of how my sleep shirt barely reached mid-thigh, how Jonah's eyes tracked the movement despite his obvious attempt to be respectful. "But I haven't had pancakes in years."

Because Marcus thought they were "empty carbs" and "unsuitable for an omega of my standing."

"Years?" Charlie looked scandalized. "That's terrible! Dad makes the best pancakes in the whole world."

"Charlie's a little biased," Jonah said, but there was warmth in his voice now. Pride. "But they're not bad."

"I should probably get dressed first," I said, suddenly conscious of my state of undress.