"What's wrong?" He's beside me in an instant, gathering me into his arms, and I melt into his familiar scent.
"She must have triggered my closet security when she broke in," Carlisle explains, and there's something almost apologetic in his tone. "Locks from the inside. She was trapped."
"Why the fuck do you even have that?" Archer scolds.
"I keep my favorite trophies in there," Carlisle says defensively.
Something tells me he's not talking about trophies he won playing sports, but that's a mystery for a time when I'm not barely able to breathe.
"Juney." Felix's voice is soft, grounding. "Look at me. You're safe. You're not there anymore."
He knows exactly where my mind went. He always knows.
"Breathe with me," he instructs, his hand on my chest, feeling the rabbiting of my heart. "In for four, hold for four, out for four."
I follow his count, matching his breathing, letting his presence chase away the worst of the shadows. They retreat to the corners, grumbling but subdued.
"Better?" he asks after several cycles.
I nod, finally able to form coherent thoughts. That's when I realize I'm still clutching the stolen clothes like my life depends on it.
Carlisle notices too, and that dangerous smile returns, though it's softer than usual. "Sorry, little thief. I didn't think you'd actually manage to pick the lock or I would have warned you about the trap."
"Just wanted a shirt," I grumble against Felix's chest. "Wouldn't have taken anything valuable. Unless it was just sitting out, then it's fair game."
Carlisle actually laughs, the sound bright and genuine. "You're welcome to anything of mine, hellcat. No lock picking required."
"She's going into full-blown heat," Archer observes, and I can feel his clinical gaze assessing my symptoms. "Look at her—she's been nesting."
Felix's hand presses against my forehead, and he hisses. "You're burning up. We should get you to your nest."
He stands with me in his arms like I weigh nothing, and I clutch the stolen clothes tighter. They smell like pack, my hindbrain supplies helpfully. They smell like home.
The walk to my room feels both endless and too quick. Felix sets me down gently in the closet where my nest waits, and Archer appears with a shirt I must have dropped in the closet, setting it within reach.
"Thank you," I whisper, already arranging the stolen items around Felix's sweatshirt. Bane's shirt here, Elias's button-down there, Archer's shirt tucked just so. The scents blend and complement, turning the nest from empty to complete.
But my heat doesn't care about complete nests. It wants more. Needs more.
I pull Felix down for a kiss that's all desperation and need. "I need—" The words stick in my throat. "I need to be touched. Need?—"
"I know," he says softly, his hand cupping my face. "What do you want, Juney?"
My eyes flick to Carlisle and Archer, still hovering in the doorway like they're not sure if they should leave or stay. The want must show on my face because Felix follows my gaze, understanding dawning.
"Do you want them here?" he asks, and there's no judgment in his voice, no hurt. Just concern for what I need.
I hesitate, not wanting to make him feel insecure, not wanting to damage what we have. But he sees right through me, like always.
"This is about what you need," he says firmly. "Not my ego, not their wants. You. If you want them, I'm fine with it. If you don't, they leave. Your choice."
The heat makes thinking feel like swimming through honey, but one truth rises clear above the fog. "I want all of them. All of you. But maybe not all at once."
Archer's already pulling out his phone. "I'll text the others. Let them know to be on standby."
"Bane is asleep," I protest.
"Trust me, the big bear will want to be woken up from hibernation for this," Carlisle says with a glint in his eyes that makes my pussy throb.
