Page 99 of The Ashpaw: Part One

“Mm, maybe if you promise to wash my hair like this every day.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her skin. “It would be my absolute pleasure… as long as you comb mine in return when I’m done.”

She almost replied that it was a deal, and instead looked around her.

The heat from the bath seeped through her skin and relaxed her muscles, the water turning embarrassingly gray from the dirt she hadn’t realized she’d accumulated in the past few days.

“So what are nests?” Fern asked, changing the subject.

Reinn hummed a bit before answering. “Now, you have to understand that you’re the first omega I’ve ever met in the flesh, so everything I know comes from books. And nesting, apparently, is an instinct for many omegas. They like to be surrounded by softness, the scents of their family or mates, or anything else that brings them comfort. A favorite trinket, or book….”

Fern stilled. “Or a rock?”

“Rocks?” he asked, sounding slightly horrified. “Solas’s Hells, have you been forced to find comfort in rocks?”

Fern shrugged, not sure what to do with her hands for a moment as they floated in front of her. “I like rocks.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth as he rinsed the soap from her hair, that part now done. “Whatever you say, sunbeam.”

Then he rose with a stretch and a yawn, patting her on the head. “I’ll leave you to finish in peace.”

Fern turned to watch him, the front of his tunic wet and clinging to his chest, and she wanted him to stay.

She barely knew the alpha, and yet she felt almost as at ease with him as she did with Eidan. He didn’t make her feel like she was wrong in wanting or asking. In just being herself.

And then she remembered with sobering clarity that she could have been with either of them—or both of them!—if Darion’s sway over her hadn’t been so strong. That she could be curling up in Reinn’s glorious bed—

Nest!

—right now, happy and at peace.

So she watched him go, and tried to relax before having to leave the water. She rubbed a washcloth over the rest of her skin, and couldn’t help from wondering if Darion was looking for her.

He probably wasn’t.

When she was sure she’d scrubbed every last inch of her body, and the water had turned cool enough to remind her of the pools beneath the castle, she got out and used the linen wrap that Reinn had left out for her to dry off. Fern then saw that she didn’t even have anything to change into, and she doubted Reinn had any spare dresses lying around.

She knotted the wrap right above her breasts, and opened the door a crack to find Reinn sitting in one of the chairs by the fire, drinking from a goblet and reading a book.

His leg hung from one of the arms, and he swirled the drink slowly in his hand, eyes raising as the door creaked and she entered. “All finished?”

Water from her hair dripped on the floor. “I am, but I don’t have anything to wear.”

He stared at her for a second. “You say that like it’s a problem.”

Fern rolled her eyes. “Are there clothes for me or not?”

The book snapped shut and he took one more sip of his drink before rising, heading to his trunk and digging through the contents until he found what he’d been looking for.

“Here, this will do until your alpha provides you with a proper wardrobe.”

“Why do you say it like that?” she asked as he handed it to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Have I not made my disdain for Darion clear enough yet?”

It was a man’s tunic—Reinn’s, obviously—long-sleeved with silver embroidery stitched into elaborate patterns along the hem, neckline, and sleeves. When she slipped it on, it fell almost to her knees.

It felt entirely too indecent, but she supposed the bottom half of her legs were nothing compared to what he’d just had an eyeful of in the bath. Or that morning.