Page 179 of Beasts of Mine

“I thought about it.” Tavian amended without shame, flashing me an innocent expression that convinced absolutely no one.

“You complained about moving the table.” Luca reminded Tavian, turning toward him with obvious amusement.

“For nearly six feet. A brutal distance.” Tavian defended himself as he gestured toward the room, putting enough suffering into his voice to make the claim even more ridiculous.

“You didn't carry the table.” Luca told Tavian, his brows lifting while he waited for the excuse.

“I provided moral support.” Tavian replied with complete confidence, crossing his arms as though the matter had been settled.

He complained, a scarlet macaw announced loudly from somewhere above us, the familiar voice cutting through the courtyard with enough satisfaction that I immediately looked up. A splash of red sat along the broken edge of the old wall, his claws gripping the weathered stone while he tilted his head and stared directly down at Tavian.

I pressed my lips together.

Tavian followed my gaze.

“What did he say?” Tavian asked me suspiciously, his eyes narrowing toward the macaw as he apparently recognized my expression even though the bird's words meant nothing to him.

“Nothing helpful.” I told Tavian, fighting a laugh while the macaw shuffled sideways along the wall above him.

He complained, the macaw repeated much louder, fluffing his scarlet feathers as though extra volume might somehow make Tavian understand. Loud spotted one complains.

The laugh escaped before I could stop it.

“That bird is insulting me, isn't he?” Tavian asked as he looked from the macaw to me, suspicion hardening into certainty the moment he saw my face.

“I would never betray his confidence.” I told Tavian as I picked up my overnight bag, keeping my expression as innocent as I could manage while the macaw made a pleased clicking sound overhead.

“I don't like that bird.” Tavian informed me as he pointed one finger toward the macaw, looking as though he had just issued a very serious warning.

Liar, the macaw called down immediately, bobbing his head once before opening his wings. I laughed again as the bird launched from the wall and disappeared over the courtyard in a flash of scarlet.

Tavian stared after him.

“I definitely don't like that bird.” Tavian told me, although the grin pulling at his mouth made the statement impossible to believe.

“I'm sure he's devastated.” I replied to Tavian as I adjusted the overnight bag against my shoulder, still smiling while I turned toward the sleeping room. My laughter carried easily through the old stone, and what caught me wasn't the echo but how normal it felt to hear it there. I couldn't remember exactly when the temple had stopped feeling like somewhere I'd been invited and started feeling familiar.

I wasn't ready to think too hard about that either.

The feeling sharpened when I reached the sleeping room. The pillow near the wall still sat at the awkward angle I'd pushed it into, and Luca's blanket remained where I'd left it across the lower portion of the bedding. Nothing had been smoothed into neatness or returned to however the men normally arranged the room when I wasn't there.

Nobody had touched the beginning of the nest I'd made accidentally.

I stood in the doorway for a moment before putting the bag beside the bed and stepping closer. There was no confusion this time when the urge started. I didn't have to wonder why Malek's shirt needed to be closer, why one pillow looked wrong despite there being nothing objectively wrong with it, or why Luca's blanket being folded instead of bunched along my leg irritated me far more than fabric had any right to.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I'm nesting.

The realization didn't send me backing out of the room. Instead, I opened my overnight bag and pulled out Malek's shirt. Cedar still clung to the fabric despite being carried between the station and field, and I tucked it near the pillows before sitting back to look at it. The placement bothered me immediately, so I moved it farther toward the wall, frowned, then pulled it closer to where my head would be.

“You've moved that shirt three times.” Tavian observed from the doorway, his amusement carefully controlled as though something in my expression had convinced him laughing outright might shorten his life.

“I am aware.” I answered Tavian as I moved the shirt again, smoothing one sleeve beneath the edge of a pillow before sitting back on my heels to inspect the result. Tavian made a suspicious sound in the back of his throat, but when I looked at him, he immediately closed his mouth and attempted innocence. Malek stood several feet behind him with Luca near his shoulder. All three men had apparently gathered while I was rearranging fabric, yet none had entered the room.

I returned to the task. Luca's blanket came next, and I spread it along one side before deciding that was wrong, folded part beneath another blanket, hated that even more, then pulled the whole thing back toward the center. Apparently nesting while fully conscious required considerably more work than doing it in my sleep because every piece of fabric had developed an opinion about where it belonged, and none of those opinions came with explanations.

“What is wrong with it?” Tavian asked from the doorway after watching me reposition one corner for the fourth time, genuine curiosity finally overpowering his good sense as he craned his neck for a better view.