The door closes behind him, and I groan, dropping my head into my hands. "Fuck."
"What's wrong?" Lexie asks, her hand gentle on my back.
"I need to have the most awkward conversation of my life with our packmates about whether or not I want them to fuck me through my heat," I say bluntly. "While my body is literally screaming for exactly that. This is fucking humiliating."
"It's not humiliating," she says firmly. "It's biology. And they care about you, Darren. They want to make sure you're comfortable."
Comfortable. Right. Nothing about this is comfortable. Not the way my skin feels like it's going to burn off, not the way every alpha scent in this house is making my mouth water.
"I don't even know what I want," I admit, the words tearing out of me. "I mean, I know what my body wants. But my head..."
"Your head is still fighting it," Lexie finishes gently. "Still holding onto who you think you have to be."
I look at her, really look at her. This beautiful, patient woman who's stood by me through all of this insanity. Who helped me build a nest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Who's looking at me now like I'm still worth the trouble even though I'm literally falling apart at the seams.
"I love you," I say, because it bears repeating. "You know that, right?"
"I know," she says, smiling. "I love you too. All of you. Even the parts you're still figuring out."
A door slams downstairs, followed by Zayn's voice. "Delivery service! I come bearing gifts of hydration and comfort!"
He's so fucking dramatic. But right now, a little normal drama is exactly what I need.
"We should go down there, if you're ready," Lexie says. "Have that conversation you're dreading. Get it over with."
She's right. Hiding up here isn't going to make this any easier. I stand on shaky legs, the movement making my head spin. The heat is getting worse, building like pressure in a boiler. Better to figure this shit out while I still have some brain cells functioning.
The trip downstairs feels like navigating a minefield. Every step brings new scents, leather and bourbon and pine and vanilla, all mixing together into a blend of pack and perfection that makes my omega instincts purr. By the time we reach the living room, I'm gripping Lexie's hand like a lifeline.
They're all there. Waiting. Four alphas trying very hard not to look like predators who've scented prey. Zayn's unpacking bags on the coffee table, covering it with water bottles, energy bars, those little packets of electrolyte powder. And... socks?
"Fuzzy socks," he announces, holding up a pair of ridiculously soft-looking purple things. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. Comfort items, right?" He tosses a pair to Lexie,then one to me. "Got everyone a pair. Team bonding and all that bullshit."
I catch them reflexively, and the absurdity of the gesture makes me laugh. Zayn Copeland, Mr. Too-Cool-For-School, buying us all fuzzy socks breaks through some of my anxiety. A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical but genuine.
"Thanks," I say, meaning it. "That's weirdly thoughtful."
"I have my moments," he says, but I catch the pleased look that flashes across his face.
"So," Jax says, ever the captain, "we should talk."
Right. The Talk. I sink onto the couch, Lexie beside me, and try to ignore the way every alpha in the room tracks my movement. They're trying so hard to be respectful, to give me space, but I can feel their hunger, like they're physically holding themselves back.
"What do you need to know?" I ask, proud when my voice comes out steady.
"What you want," Jax says simply. "What you don't want. Your boundaries. This is your heat, Darren. You're in control here."
In control. That's fucking rich. I haven't felt in control of anything since that puck scrambled my brains and turned me into this. But looking at my pack, I realize maybe that's not entirely true. They're here, asking what I need, ready to respect whatever I decide.
"I..." I start, then stop, trying to organize the chaos in my head. "I want you here. All of you. But I'm not... I can't..."
"Take your time," Dmitri says, his voice gentle despite the intensity of his scent screaming how much he wants to claim and command.
"I'm not ready for everyone in the nest," I finally manage. "It's too much. Too new. But I don't want us to be alone either. Just me and Lexie, I mean."
She squeezes my hand, understanding as always.
"So what would feel right?" Aidan asks, and fuck, the hope in his voice makes my breath hitch.
