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I loved today.
I loved the dreams that they were painting for me; the future that was starting to take shape.
We got home late, with a dozen boxes, more in the mail, and six custom orders that had been commissioned by Ebony, including the special wallpaper.
But when the Nesting Needs boxes were loaded up into the foyer, I didn’t want them moved any further. “Do we have to put all this stuff in right now?”
“Nope. It’s yours Princess,” Love told me. “You can put it in the nest whenever you want.”
My chest loosened slightly. “Okay. Maybe we’ll wait a bit?”
It wasn’t a lack of faith that made me want to stop here, it was just… “When I unpack them, everything needs to be perfect.”
Love nodded, his gaze tracing to where I was palming the back of my neck. The darkness in his eyes was there and gone in an instant as I withdrew my hand. Faith or not, things couldn’t be perfect while I still had this bite.
I wanted unpacking to be theirs, andonlytheirs. I didn’t want the memories overshadowed by the darkness poisoning my neck.
“I was thinking, it’s still nice out,” Love said, changing the topic. “We’ve got a bit of summer left, maybe we could do takeout by the firepit?”
I grinned.
“Yes.”
I was not ready for today to be over.
Rook tugged me in between him and Drake around the firepit.
Love was starting the fire, and Ebony set drinks and pizza down for us all to grab.
Their scents engulfed me. So, so beautiful and made of dreams. Ones I was too afraid to hold on to alone.
Sometimes when I closed my eyes, I was in free fall, as if the ground vanished beneath me and I was afraid this was a huge mistake. Last time Zeus had claimed me, it had been worse for the hope I’d had. And now the pain that awaited me on the other side, it was beyond what I could imagine.
But I’d seen it before: dreams without limit, claimed even in the darkest moments.
I wanted that.
I wanted my mother to be proud.
So, whenever that happened, whenever the ground gave out beneath me in that heart stopping second, I focused on them.
All of them.
My mates.
My anchors.
There was something entirely mesmerising about seeing them as a pack. The tension that had been there before was gone now.
I just listened to them talk for a while, sinking into Rook’s arms.
Love and Ebony were arguing over past competitions, and who had come out ahead.
“I even won on the pack picks,” Ebony said, sipping on his beer.
“What does that mean?” Rook asked, bewildered.
“I got the Drake pick—rightfully, I might add.”
