Myrick crosses his arms, concern pulling his brows together. “How much do you still owe?”
I shake my head, jaw clenched.
“Too much,” I say. “So much that I’ve been sleeping in my car most nights. Paying for a hotel feels like a waste when I’ve still got a target on my back.”
Autry steps closer as she wraps the blanket tighter around her tiny frame, but her expression is wide open. Understanding. She looks at me like sheknowshow it feels. It’s an odd reaction from the omega.
“I’m a fuck-up,” I say, hating the way my voice breaks. “I know that. But I’ve worked so hard to piece my life back together. I’m not perfect.” I look at Charlie, begging for him to still love me. “Hell, I’m barely scraping by. But I want this.I want you.” I drop my gaze, trying to keep myself from falling apart. “I want to be better—for all of you.”
The room is quiet again. Heavy with what I’ve laid bare.
I meet each of their eyes in turn—Myrick,Autry, Charlie. Then finally, Rhett.
“I promise,” I say, “I’ll be a better alpha. For our pack. Formypack…if you’ll let me.”
“Okay,” Rhett is the first to speak up. “Then start now. Charlie needs a bath, and then he and Autry need to be fed. Take care of your pack, alpha.”
And just like that, something warm and beautiful consumes me.
I belong.
The Nesting Room
Autry
I’ve beenin the nesting room for almost an hour, folding blankets and fluffing pillows in silence. The scent of fresh linen and sun-warmed cotton clings to the walls, settling into the mattress that takes up most of the room. It’s massive—big enough to hold our whole pack. Myrick encouraged me to get a big nest so we can all share one big bed if I want.
But up until now, none of us have been sleeping in it.
Rhett, Myrick, and I have been sleeping in our room down the hall, keeping to our rhythm while Charlie and Oli stay holed up in Charlie’s space. I haven’t minded it—Oli still feels like an open wound, and Charlie’s just been through his first heat—but it’s been days since his heat broke, and the omega still refuses to come out of his room. Not even for dinner.
Not even forme.
I smooth the soft sea-blue blanket over one corner of my nest and try not to frown while I think about Charlie. Maybe he’s working through his transition. Turning into anomega isn’t easy—not physically or emotionally. It’s a whole identity shift. And that’s while you’re a kid. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be as an adult.
But I get the feeling there’s more to it than just getting used to a new dynamic. Charlie isn’t settling. He’s hiding. And deep down, I know why.
He’s ashamed.
The memory of that wounded male omega back at the boarding house slips into the front of my mind. I remember the way Charlie spoke about him, telling me that no one wanted male omegas. It was obvious he didn’t actually believe they weren’t valuable, but he said it because it was the truth.
The fact that he was told that by so many people makes my heart ache.
I know what it feels like to fight your instincts, to pretend you don’t need things—comfort, safety, love—because needing them feelsweak. But Charlie isn’t weak. He’shurting. And he’s isolating himself instead of reaching for the pack that loves him.
I can’t let him keep doing that.
Looking around at my half-made nest, I realize what it’s missing.Charlie. Ineedto share it with the omega. It's like a compulsion, like my instincts are forcing me. It's a little confusing because I’ve never wanted other people to touch my nest before, but IneedCharlie’s buttery sweet scent inside it more than I need my own.
Determined, I wipe my hands on my leggings, storm down the hall, and pound on Charlie’s door like I mean it.
“Open up,” I say. “Now.”
There’s shuffling on the other side, a pause, then a soft click as the door opens.
Charlie blinks at me, bleary and thin, like he’s beencurling in on himself for days. His hair is wet like he’s freshly showered, and the dark circles under his eyes make him look haunted.
“Autry—”
