Page 20 of Bonds and Beasts

As we step out of the car in front of her manor, reds and pinks streak the sky as the sun starts to rise, casting everything in a beautiful, soft glow. Adison stands between my two packmates, red hair wind-tossed, bright green eyes barely open.

"We need to get you to bed," Easton says.

Her voice comes up in one of those breathy omega whines that shoots straight to my center and then lower. Keeping myself in check around her has been torture. I want to be close to her. I want to wrap her up in my arms and rub my scent all over her. I want to help her with her touch deprivation. But I know that's selfish, given all the ways I mishandled this. She's likely afraid of me, and fear will only hinder the therapy.

Adison looks up at Easton and Dean with questioning, almost panicked eyes as we near the front door.

"Don't worry. We know being with you in your nest is important for your touch deprivation. We're not leaving you," Dean assures her.

Instead of reassuring her, the statement has the opposite effect. Adison stops moving. Her formerly sleepy expression disappears, replaced with alert eyes, wide and fearful.

"What's the matter?" Dean asks, but Adison's pad of paper is back in the car, forgotten, and Tom has already pulled away.

"Do you want to go to a hotel?" Easton asks. "Considering you've been stuck in the west wing of this house for a year, that makes sense. I wasn't sure a totally new environment would help with your sensory overwhelm right now. Familiar things can be good for touch deprivation, but not if they're uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable is such an inadequate word for how Adison looks. But to everyone's surprise, she shakes her head. She does not want to go to a hotel. Dean and Easton look puzzled, but I'm not.

Mates are able to connect on levels science still can't explain, and a lead alpha's ability to care for their pack’s omega is always discussed with wonder. Something I didn't fully comprehend until now.

Understanding streaks across my mind and I step forward, giving her my scent and, very selfishly, subtly pulling hers into my lungs. She looks up at me with pleading eyes.

"You don't want to leave,” I say. “You just can't be in the west wing, right? It's a cage."

She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"That's fine, Sweet Girl. We don't have to stay there. We can put your nest anywhere in the manor," Dean assures her, his arm wrapped around her hip, pulling her close.

But Adison's glassy eyes stay on me as pink rises to her cheeks. She's holding so much tension in her shoulders. Is she upset? Embarrassed?

It seems like both. Her scent certainly carries the sour edge of embarrassment. Like roses so rotten the petals have started to slick. I mull over what Dean said and what might have triggered this.

The nest.

Is she embarrassed about her nest? We'd be happy with whatever she had, and we'd buy her anything she felt it was lacking.

She bites her lower lip, and the truth strikes me like an anvil from the sky.

"You don't have a nest." It's not a question. I can see the answer written all over her face.

Easton and Dean freeze, their expressions twisting into twin looks of rage. Not at our omega. Never at Adison. At Clocks.

"This whole, big house and he wouldn't even allow you a nest?" Easton growls.

Adison visibly shrinks, and I can't take it anymore.

I take one more slow step forward, allowing her the full opportunity to step back, but she doesn't. We're so close I can feel the slight inhale of her breath, the tremors from her touch deprivation shaking the very air around her.

My hand slips under her hair to palm the back of her neck. My thumb rests at her pulse point. I can feel the static rhythm of it beating into my skin. The pad of my thumb smooths back and forth.

Her shoulders unclench and work back down a fraction from her ears. Her eyes relax. Even the shaking seems to slow to a more reasonable level.

I bend at the waist so I can meet her gaze. "This isn't your failing, Adi. This should never have happened to you. It's no one's fault but Clocks. Don't worry about a nest. When you're ready, we'll make sure you get everything you need."

A single tear slips from the corner of her eye and I bend to wipe it away, but she freezes and so do I. Self-loathing boils up within me and I'm sure my scent turns bitter at the edges. I wrecked this. I have no right to be mad about it. I blow out a breath and step back, releasing my hold on her. She folds into Dean's chest.

"Let's find a place to sleep then," Easton says, shooting me a look that says get it together before leading Adison to the ornate stairs.

I watch them go, Dean's arm wrapped around her shoulders, Easton's firmly around her waist. She's still trembling slightly, still nonverbal. But I can already see improvements.