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Idril releases an aggrieved Omega groan, and my eyes snap back to the bed where she’s crawling toward the edge. She bends over and starts rifling through a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor—outside of the Nest. When she finds what she’s looking for, she pulls it out with a triumphant smile.
I narrow my eyes at her prize.
Where the hell did that thing come from?
Soren looks at me questioningly. Keeping my voice low so she isn’t disturbed, I whisper, “It’s a blanket I picked up decades ago overseas on a mission. I haven’t seen it in… fuck…” I shake my head, thinking back. “Maybe twenty years?”
“Do you think she got it from your closet?”
“She must have,” I whisper, trying not to chuckle. “I know I told her to take what she wanted, but I wasn’t expecting her to dig out blankets I forgot I even had.”
I can’t remember exactly where I found it. Still, as she wraps the faded navy blanket around her shoulders, rearranging it until it’s cocooning her like a makeshift cloak, I decide I’ll find who I purchased it from, fly there, and bring back every blanket they’ve ever made.
As she smoothss her fingers along the fabric in soft, gentle movements, a soft smile on her lips, I decide…
Fuck it. I’ll just fly back with the whole ass person. Why shouldn’t we employ an official blanket-maker-person? That’s totally a real thing.
Idril hums as she works, and for long moments we simply sit there and watch as our Omega learns what she likes and dislikes. It’s comforting, knowing that between the two of us she’s finally somewhere she feels safe.
A few minutes pass in contented silence. Then, Idril slams to a stop. The way she freezes so abruptly causes both Soren and me to go instantly on alert.
It becomes clear pretty fast that there’s no unseen physical threat—outside of that damn pillow from earlier. Her eyes land on it, and her face twists into an expression of absolute disgust.
Then she hisses at it.
“You,” she growls, sneering like she’s come face to face with her father instead of an uncooperative piece of bedding.
“Fates, I think that pillow is her nemesis,” Soren whispers with a grin. “We may have to intervene.”
I grin back. “Nah, she’s got this.”
“You know,” Idril scolds, picking it up and squeezing it like she can force it into what she needs it to be, “I had such high hopes for you. That’s what upsets me the most. You’re literally the perfect pillow for sleeping. The way I see it, when you find the perfect pillow for your head, it should also be unquestionably perfect for everything else in life.”
Her voice is thick with conviction, and I find myself nodding along in agreement with her analytical reasoning. The fact that she’s the most beautiful, adorable, perfect Omega in the entire fucking world has nothing to do with it.
The pillow gets shoved between two others at an angle, taken out, moved, rotated—something I don’t think I have the instincts to understand—and flipped over before Idril gives up.
She sits back on her heels and sighs. Three silent seconds pass before she speaks again, and this time her tone is absolutely dripping with disgust.
“Who made you, anyway? An Alpha?”
I slap my hands over my mouth to muffle my laughter.
Soren’s face is bright red from holding in his laughter. I jab him in the side with my elbow in warning, but I’m pretty sure I’m the one about to give us away and ruin this entire fucking moment.
Idril grabs the pillow that has officially become Enemy Number One in our lives, and with a sound of disgust, she throws it over her shoulder.
She doesn’t just toss it away gently. Oh, no. Not our Omega. She chucks it blindly as hard as she can. It sails through the air, soaring across the room in a spiraling arc and landing on the couch in the lounge and seating area.
Idril pulls out another pillow and presses it to her face, inhaling deeply. When she pulls back, her mouth is set in a frown and, with another adorable fucking snarl, she whips it angrily over her shoulder.
This pillow doesn’t make it anywhere near as far as the last. It takes the same path, but lower, and is airborne for less than three seconds before—
“Oommph.”
Soren’s so busy watching her he didn’t even see the pillow coming. That’s it. That’s my limit. Throwing my head back, I let out a booming laugh, unable to hold it in any longer.
Idril whips around, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. When she notices us both sitting on our makeshift bed, watching her like creeps and smiling like idiots, she groans. A pretty blush creeps up her pale neck and into her cheeks.
