Page 106 of Retribution

Ducking under the flap in the curtain, I take a second to get used to the much dimmer light in here.

“Hey,” Grant says from the bed.

I didn’t have a chance to see the final set up of the nest, but I’m impressed.

The fairy lights are easy on the eyes, the nest feels like its own cocoon, and the temperature is perfect with all the body heat this room has been seeing. There’s a comfy reading chair in the corner of the loft in case Isolde wants to escape into another world, and a ton of pillows surrounding the bed.

It’s simple, but it allows her to add whatever she wants to at a later date.

“I’m here if you want to catch some sleep,” I acknowledge, carefully laying on the bed.

A part of me thought that I’d be laying in slick and fluids, but the sheets are cool and soft.

“Thanks,” Grants says sleepily. “Be prepared. She may wake up once my knot softens. The little nightmare is feral when her cramping ramps up.”

“Mytopolinais simply a bit demanding,” I sniff, getting comfortable.

“Mmhmm. The sheets are clean because Oliver managed to change them when she fell asleep. I’ve never been rolled over like a sack of potatoes before.”

My shoulders shake with amusement as Grant’s eyes shut and his breaths even out. I’m giving him so much shit. I’m sure Isolde gave her alphas a run for their money.

Her ability to ask for what she wants isn’t as normal as people would think. She’s more likely to do what she can alone, because it’s a trauma response to make yourself small when your needs haven’t been met in the past.

Isolde isn’t alone anymore, and every time she leans a little more on us is a sign that she’s learning to trust. Her stopping in the kitchen this morning and telling us that she thought she was going to need us for her heat spoke volumes.

Her breakthrough heat spikes have been happening for long enough that it would have been difficult to know the signs untilshe was in full blown heat. It would have sucked giant monkey balls if Grant and Lucas were gone for this.

Isolde takes a breath as she sleeps, and I turn to stare at her. Her forehead is unlined and smooth, her nose reminds me of a cute button, and her lashes graze her skin. She’s beautiful in an unclassic way.

What I mean by this is that there’s an edge of danger while she’s awake, and she carries herself in a way that reminds me of a predator. Her entire body is a weapon, her slight curves meant to be able to strike as necessary.

I’ve always enjoyed things that aren’t always good for me, and Isolde is no different.

I watch her sleep for a half an hour, noticing things about the bed that I didn’t before. The bottom of the bed appears to have things stuffed under the blankets, and I realize that it’s the clothing that Oliver stole earlier in the day. The scents in the room are her alphas, even though I haven’t stepped inside until very recently.

Oliver knew what he was doing when he was helping Grant set up our omega’s nest.

Isolde flops over into her stomach with a whimper, and I see that she’s free of Grant’s knot. My hand runs over her wild hair, and I can’t help but smile as her lips pout in her sleep. Her bare skin is hot as I stroke down her back, and she slowly opens her eyes as she wakes up.

“Alesso,” she whispers.

“Hi,” I murmur. I’m still wearing clothes, though I’m currently barefoot. I’ve discovered that I enjoy the feeling of the floorboards underneath my feet.

Shoes annoy me unless I’m outside and have to have them.

Her brows draw down as her hand clutches her stomach, concerning me. Pulling her closer to me, I kiss her forehead.

“Do you need me to help you with that?” I ask.

“If by help you mean burying your cock inside of me in the next five seconds…”

Smirking, I undress in about that amount of time, chuckling under my breath when she straddles me.

“So eager," I say, watching as she reaches for me, lining my crown with her entrance.

“You’re my favorite kind of medicine,” she smirks, relaxing as she sinks down on my cock.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, since you haven’t had me yet.”