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“They’re seeing other omegas. I saw the messages and pictures,” Daria mumbles into my shirt. “I thought they might be the ones.” She cries even harder.
Those bastards. Daria was having doubts about them, and it seems they were having doubts about her too. Only, instead of being reasonable adults, they resorted to sneaking behind her back. I hold her tighter and murmur soothing words, wishing I could take away her pain and find her some alphas. That’s all she’s ever wanted.
I rub her arms and lean back. “Let me make us tea.”
She sniffs and nods dejectedly, crossing her arms over her chest and curling in on herself. Daria doesn’t do meek. I swear, if I ever see those alphas in person, I’m going to kick them in the nuts so hard, their balls will fall off.
Scurrying around, I put the living room back together, picking up random things she’s thrown around the room in her anger. I open the windows to chase away the alphas scents and find a few candles to light as well before boiling water and prepping the tea leaves. Daria’s favorite is a spicy cinnamon black tea, but I think she might need the comfort of the special cozy blend I found with chamomile and apple.
I eye the couch, where she’s sunk into the cushions, sniffing softly but no longer sobbing. Daria’s always fallen hard and fast, but she also rises from the ashes fast too. I think she’ll be okay in a few days. Still, I can’t help wondering how many more heartbreaks she can endure.
Once the tea is ready, I head back to the couch and hand her a cat mug, keeping the llama one for myself.
“I’m so sick of waiting,” she grumbles. “Is it really that hard to find your scent matches? All I want is all-consuming love.” She sighs. “I guess that’s too much to ask for. Maybe I should just give up.”
“There are so many people in the world,” I remind her. “A lot of omegas don’t find their scent matches, but I don’t think you should give up, and I especially don’t think you should settle for those assholes.”
“Oh, fuck no. We’re done.” She slices her hand through the air and sloshes some of her tea. “Ow, fuck. Seriously? Do you hate me?” she asks the ceiling—or God.
“I’m guessing you don’t want to scrapbook. Should we watchKill Billinstead?”
She sniffs again and smiles. “Of course, I want to watch Uma Thurman get her bloody revenge. You know me so well.”
I wakeup the next morning in Daria’s bed. She’s sound asleep and in a much better state of mind. After watching a lot of bloodshed, she finally got some of her sparkle back. She’s on the way to being okay and, soon enough, I’m sure she’ll be out searching for her fated mates again. My plan was to tell her about my new mates, but it wasn’t the right time. The last thing I want to do is kick her while she’s down.
My phone has a few messages from the guys, sweetI miss yousand a few dirty ones. Sighing, I nudge Daria enough to let her know I’m going to head out. She mumbles goodbye and slings her arm in my general direction for a hug.
The guys are out when I get home, and after spending the night nursing Daria’s broken heart, I need the comfort of their scents, so I find myself wandering into their rooms and grabbing some of their things. Shirts, pillows, comforters. I take it all to my room and toss it inside my giant walk-in closet before running down to the pantry and grabbing some snacks.
My arms are full of chips, beef jerky, various assortments of drinks, and some grapes by the time I make my way back upstairs. Impatient, my stomach growls in protest.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I tell it, climbing into the mess in my closet to settle down. I set my loot on a shelf and quickly organize everything, spreading Austin’s pillows out on the mattress, pulling on Brady’s shirt, wrapping myself in Dylan’s comforter. Once I’m a proper nest gremlin, I grab my snacks and plop onto my bed and do a little happy dance as I dig into my food.
A little while later, someone opens the door to the closet. I hiss at the sudden rush of light, shielding my face like a vampire about to expire.
“What are you doing, pretty girl?” Austin says with a soft laugh.
I drop my arms and grin up at him. “I was hungry.”
He eyes the mess of wrappers and maybe the crumbs on my shirt, but for the most part, I’m clean. The air purifiers that were in the closet are haphazardly strewn about my bedroom. I ripped those out once I realized they were stealing the goodness of my alphas’ scents.
“Stupid fucking air purifiers,” I growl.
Austin glances at them, amusement edging the corners of his mouth. “Do you want me to get rid of them?”
“Burn them.”
“Whoa there, killer, I don’t think that’s good for the environment. I’ll find somewhere to donate or recycle them, okay?”
“Fine,” I snap, then wince. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you. Those purifiers are really pissing me off.” My eyebrows pinch together. Why am I so angry all of a sudden?
He drops into a squat and grips my chin. “You’re nesting.”
I tip my head. “Yeah, that tracks,” I whisper. “I really want pickles and I hate pickles.”
“I’ll get you pickles if you want them.”
The doorbell rings, and we both growl at the interruption. Who the hell is at the door? I didn’t invite anyone over.
