Page 10

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head slightly in disagreement; but while she might not think she needs to nest, her body tells me otherwise.

Her skin is even more pink than before, and she keeps hugging herself, wanting to enclose herself.

As an Alpha, I know better than she does as a newly uncloaked Omega.

“Why are nests such a big deal for Omegas? I mean, I love a pillow fort, but it seems different.”

“It is. Omegas create safe, comfortable places to relax and center themselves, but also for mating with their Alpha.” I expect her to freak out or shut down, but her expression remains open and curious.

“Alphas treat a nest as a sacred space and have to earn the right to join an Omega inside it. They need to earn the trust of their Omega. That’s what courting is for.

To build the necessary bond to claim each other as mates. ”

“I see.” She chuckles. “Right now, I just want to rest, not get freaky for my nonexistent Alpha mate.”

I remove some pillows from the couch and check that they’re fluffed up, then place them next to the chair. Then I grab another blanket and hand it to her. She immediately rubs the fabric along her cheek and neck with a heavy sigh.

“So nice. It even smells like you. Like the finest incense and leather.” She removes her cardigan and drapes it on the couch, then wraps the blanket around herself and closes her eyes. It shouldn’t feel this good that she notices my scent and relaxes as a result.

Speaking softly, I ask, “Feeling better now, Omega?”

I don’t want to see her suffer. No Alpha wants that. Part of me is proud that I made the right call and saw what she needed before she did.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize how out of sorts I was feeling until now.”

I should be worried about my Alpha pheromones and spicy scent being all over that blanket, but I find I don’t care. She’s not my Omega, and I’m not her Alpha, no matter how badly I wanted to kiss her earlier.

She continues looking at the empty chair, and with a huff, she crawls onto it. She looks at me, a little dazed, and scoots herself into one corner of the oversized chair.

Grinning at her, I sit on the bed next to the chair and bundle the blanket around her body.

“Omegas need security, like the walls here, and the softness of the blanket. In my room, with an Alpha to protect you when you’re at your most vulnerable, you have a sense of safety, which is important for Omegas when they nest.”

“It feels like I’m missing something.” She looks at me, dismayed.

Seeing her beside my bed should make me nervous, but the opposite is true.

I’m taken by how cute she looks all bundled up.

“What do you need, Ava? I can help you.” My inner Alpha wants to provide her with simple comforts no matter the warning signs.

I shouldn’t be helping her; I might give her the wrong message.

Her instincts might tell her that I’m a worthy mate, when really I’m the only Alpha she’s been around.

I’ve only been around one nesting Omega before—my mother. My mind is screaming at me that this is a bad idea.

“I need more soft stuff. Even though there’s not much room here.”

I grab another pillow off my bed and place it in front of her. She immediately plops down on the chair’s cushion and puts her head on the pillow. She hums, and it almost sounds like a purr.

“Anything else you need?”

“Play me some music, Nolan?”

I’m taken aback by her request, but if music is what her heart desires, then that I can handle.

I suddenly feel a burst of creative juices, like I could finally write new music, but I don’t want to leave her side.

Maybe hearing me mess around will be enough to please her and let her drift off to sleep.

“I might want to just play around with cords. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she says in a tired voice.

“Okay then.” Grabbing my guitar, I settle in against my remaining pillow and headboard and begin to strum a new tune.

The fact that I feel inspired to compose with an Omega in my room brings my dad’s words back to me.

His certainty that an Omega of my own would inspire my music scares me a little.

Could he be right? Could the nesting Omega be my new muse?

Or is it just a coincidence? That’s a scary thought, but I’m excited to be inspired again.

Ava opens her eyes, and in a sleepy voice, she says, “You have a pissed off fan who’s leaving hurtful messages on the Death by Dawn feed, and now she’s moved her hostility to my own posts. Is she someone I should worry about?”

Great. Larissa has begun to target Ava. Her behavior is annoying, and I can take her crap, but Ava shouldn’t have to. She didn’t ask for the drama.

“Just delete the comments and keep blocking her new accounts. She’ll eventually get bored when she realizes she’s not making an impact.”

“She seems intent on riling up your fans and upsetting me.”

“Don’t let her bother you. She’s not worth it. She’s my ex and our former social media manager. She’s upset, but she’ll move on.”

Mindlessly strumming the notes that flow out of me, I find myself continually looking at Ava.

She seems content and cozy, and my heart feels settled.

That she feels safe in my private space gives me a sense of pride I’ve never felt before.

Not even after my best performances. She’s doing things to me, and I feel a little untethered, but I would be stupid not to enjoy her company.

Playing for her shouldn’t bring me this much peace, but it does.

I’m pleased that she’s intently watching my every move.

“That sounds so nice. You’re a true artist.” Her eyes drift closed, and she rolls over and slips off the chair. My muscles tense, and with my supernatural speed, I catch her in my arms and we fall back onto the mattress. “Oops.” She giggles sleepily, and I can’t help but smile.

“You’re not supposed to fall out of your nest.”

“I didn’t mean to. Maybe I shouldn’t have built my first nest on a chair. Bad move, Ava, duly noted.”

“I think your first nest is perfect.” I caress her cheek, and she blushes. Her nest is small and compact, just like her.

This girl is making me feel things that should make me nervous and uncomfortable but strangely feel right, and I’m happy as a result. Like in my arms is where she’s supposed to be.

“Well, I’ll take the compliment. Maybe I just need more practice. It felt nice and comfortable, but not as comfortable as being held by you.” She smirks and blushes, which makes me smile. She feels great in my arms.

“Ava, you’re so different.” Different from every other woman I’ve found myself in the company of.

“I hope you don’t mean that as a bad thing. It didn’t sound bad.”

“No, sweetness. Take it as intended—as a compliment.”

She smiles, and I see the radiant happiness in her eyes. She is quite beautiful. If I were looking, I could see myself claiming her as my Omega, but that’s crazy. I have no business with an Omega. I need my own life; I don’t want to be beholden to someone else.

I say that, but it feels nice to comfort her in my arms. Almost too nice.

“I like your dad. It’s sweet how smitten he is with your mom.”

“Yeah?” The fact that she knows that about my dad is surprising. “He’s the standard Alpha mate who puts his Omega’s needs first. Their relationship is what an Alpha-Omega relationship should be.”

“It sounds perfect. That’s what I want in my partner. Someone who cares about my well-being and happiness. Like my dad did for my mom. They were madly in love.”

I have no doubt that some Alpha will make her very happy someday.

If she were in the sanctuary right now, she would have Alpha suitors courting her in no time, all vying for her affection.

Omegas are treated lavishly with treats, gifts, and dates.

Not to mention anything else they need. She would learn from the experience of the other Omegas, and most importantly, she would be safe from undesirable Alphas.

“Nolan?”

“Yeah, Ava.”

“Are you going to give me the kiss you owe me?”

My heart skips a beat. “Do I owe you a kiss? I didn’t realize.”

Kissing her is a slippery slope, but I find that I don’t care about the consequences. She gets along with my band and Stella, unlike Larissa, who always vied for my attention.

“Our moment was stolen from us earlier at the show.”

We go quiet. She licks her soft lips, and her eyes sparkle. I can read anticipation flickering in her eyes. Her body is strung tight, like a guitar string, and I realize I want to oblige the radiant Omega before me.

Moving in before we can overthink things, I kiss her.

When our lips meet, time stops. Kissing her is amazing, and I slip my tongue in her warm mouth.

She moans and pushes her lips into mine, deepening the kiss.

She kisses like I thought she would. With exuberance and pleasure, like she does everything.

I could kiss her for hours. I can’t help but think that this feels right—that she feels right, like she’s meant to be mine.

But that’s insane; I shouldn’t want her.

Unlike the groupies who follow the band, Ava is different.

I’m enjoying this, and I feel relaxed and alive.

She smells like blooming roses as her Omega scent perfumes the air, telling me she’s enjoying our kiss just as much as I am.

The smell of our combined scents is a rich mixture hanging thick in the air.

She moans again, which only makes me want to consume her more. What is she doing to me? This isn’t helping; now I want more of her like nothing I’ve wanted before.

Ava isn’t my Omega, but God, part of me wants her to be.

The Alpha drive in me wants to be the one to give her all of her first experiences as an Omega, her first everything.

I would spoil her rotten. She might be my new muse, but maybe I want her to be more.

An Omega is the last thing I wanted, but Ava is fascinating.

She’s curious and strange, constantly babbling with wonder and delight, and I love that about her.

New experiences excite her, and she seems genuinely unfazed by my fame.

She could quickly become a habit I can’t shake.

I should push her away, and yet she’s too irresistible.

Something in me wants to find her faults and convince myself of her imperfections to make her more human.

I’m seeking reasons to get rid of her. I feel so conflicted, but my Alpha instincts are winning at this moment.

I pull away from her lips, and when she lets out a disgruntled moan, it goes straight to my cock.

Holding her close feels good, and I’m terrified.

I don’t know if I could be a good Alpha for her.

It’s never been a concern before. Can I give a shit about someone other than myself?

I’ve never wanted to become someone’s Alpha, but do I want to be Ava’s Alpha?

Could it work? I could get used to her kisses and her stream of consciousness babbling.

She seems unshakable, a quality I would want in my mate.

Someone who’d be confident in her role in my life, not jealous of my fans or overwhelmed by my fame.

She’s also creative like me. Her photos are beautiful, even the ones of donuts.

Would she want me as her Alpha?

No. She doesn’t even fully grasp what that means.

“That was better than I thought it would be,” she says, looking at me like I hung the stars.

“Did you think kissing me would be terrible?”

“Oh God, no. I thought you’d be a great kisser, but you’re dangerous.”

I smirk. “Dangerous? I’m not dangerous.” If anything, she’s the dangerous one. She’s confronting me with questions I wasn’t prepared for, quickly pulling me under her spell, and I’m unsure I want to fight it.

“You are Nolan Szasz. The most dangerous kind of man.” She blinks, and I want to hear more of her assessment.

“What makes me so dangerous?”

“You make a girl fall hard for you, and I’m not sure if that’s good or awful.”

If it’s a good, albeit foolish, thing, I’m not sure what I’m doing to make her fall for me.

I’m just helping a newly uncloaked Omega find her way into my world and adjust to her new life.

I’m not trying to persuade her heart or mine.

What would it be like if I actually courted her?

My creativity is bubbling at the surface, and I feel compelled to write, but I don’t want to put Ava back in her nest just yet.

I want to kiss her again. I’m compelled to write a song in her honor and share with the world how this Omega is stirring feelings in me that never existed before.

She seems genuinely happy to help promote the band, and Stella likes her; she could fit in with my closest friends, and her infectious happiness is contagious.

The fact that she shares her passion and enthusiasm for donuts with her fans mirrors what I do through my music.

I don’t doubt that she understands my lifestyle and how important it is to cater to the people who make that life possible.

She’s also not a starfucker, like so many groupies are. She’s grounded, not starstruck, which I find rare in most humans.

I find myself unable to push her away.