I was nesting, as Grim said, correcting the bed that he made. I felt guilty, but I had to fix it; I had to figure out how I could make our nest better.
I stuffed the small white piece in my pocket, touching the fabrics once again. I pulled a red blanket to my nose, sniffing. Nope, the smell had faded.
Not knowing what I was looking for, I walked past the couch full of blankets and closer to the bathroom. The linen basket full of dirty clothes caught my eye, and the smell instantly heightened.
I traced the rim of the basket and pulled a pair of gray joggers Grim wore the night before. I touched it, the feel of it soft, his smell transferring to my fingers.
Surely, I would not smell the soiled laundry. Not that it was soiled, it was still quite clean, just...he wore it yesterday.
I brought it to my nose, and there it was—the smell I was looking for. I grabbed it, following whatever natural instincts and pulled more from the basket and then came back to our bed, nest, and scattered the clothes once again.
“What am I doing?” I whispered again. It was a rhetorical question because Grim didn’t answer, he anxiously watched as I folded blankets and reorganized the pillows until finally his smell had permeated the bed.
I sat on my knees, my shoulders slumping and sighing at my work. A low rumbling came from my chest and instantly Grim was at my side. I reached out, inviting him in, and I pulled him to me as we tumbled into the mess of fabric.
“This is nice,” I murmured. “I don’t know what it is, but it feels really nice.”
Grim rubbed his lips together, his arms reaching around and holding me tight. “It feels very right,” he replied. “It’s beautiful, my mate, you did a wonderful job.”
“It didn’t mean that the nest you made was wrong.” I sat up shaking my head. “I don’t know why I changed all of it. I don’t understand it!”
Grim silenced me with a kiss, his hand cupping my cheek. “A male can only make a nest so well when they first court. A female is the one who makes the final nest, adding her own touches to it.”
“But I put dirty clothes in it,” I squealed.
He laughed, rolling over on top of me. “You want my scent; it makes you feel safe.”
I pondered that. When I’m with him, I feel safe. It only made sense that I would want my nest to always smell that way.
He ran his thumbs up and down the interior of my arm, tracing it longingly as it tickled my skin. I giggled, reaching to scratch at the inside of my bicep. It was on my left arm, where my implant sat, and when I scratched again, I realized the bump wasn’t there.
My brows furrowed, and I sat up, feeling the skin. There wasn’t a mark where it could escape, it couldn’t escape anyway, it was in my arm.
“What’s wrong?” Grim leaned on his elbow, rubbing the skin where I continued to touch.
“I don’t feel my implant. The one that keeps me from getting pregnant.” I gasped, reaching into the side pocket of my yoga pants and pulled out the small piece of white plastic the size of a toothpick.
Surely not.
“No,” I whispered at the same time there was pounding at the door.
Grim growled and ordered me to stay. He stomped across the floor and flung the door open, finding Beretta hissing.
“Stop that now,” Tajah ordered as she sidestepped Beretta, but her teeth were still bared at Grim.
I jumped from the bed, rushing to Grim, and pulled him away from the door. He reluctantly let them in. I sniffed as they passed, and a possessive snarl came from my lips.
I held my hand over my mouth to silence it, but Tajah waved her hand to dismiss it. She made herself at home, sitting at the kitchen table with a sigh, and Beretta came around, bringing a shawl to cover Tajah’s shoulders.
Tajah patted Beretta’s hand and smiled solemnly at her.
“What is the meaning of this?” Grim growled. “You are in our den, and you can already see that Journey is becoming territorial.” Grim pushed me behind him, but I tried to peer around his body to see our guest.
“Grim, they are our friends.” I walked toward the table, but Grim grabbed my hand and pulled me to his side. Neither of them looked at Grim like he was a piece of meat, in fact, they looked at each other like Grim and I did. They were utterly smitten, and a warm feeling bloomed in my chest.
Could they?
“I know, I know,” Tajah said. Her hands laid on the table, ticking the hard surface with her nails. “Coming into a wolf’s den is quite rude, but I needed to be here tonight. I needed to congratulate our little Priestess. From one magical being to another.” She smiled widely, and the spark in her eyes flew to life. If I hadn’t known who Tajah was before this night, I would say she looked downright mischievous.
