Chapter Eleven.

The next day, everything changes.

Morgan insists on packing my bag while I sit on the edge of my bed, overwhelmed by the turn of events. "You're sure about this?" I ask, my voice small.

She looks up from where she's neatly folding my clothes. "You don't have a choice, Ivy. Your mum's deal was clear, and you need help through your heat. Besides," she adds, a teasing edge to her voice, "it's not like you'll be roughing it. Those guys seem like they'd break their own spines to keep you comfortable."

I groan, covering my face with my hands. "Don't remind me."

By late afternoon, I'm standing in front of their pack house-a sprawling, modern structure that's somehow both intimidating and inviting. Theo is the first to greet me at the door, his broad frame filling the entryway.

"Welcome," he says, his voice steady but tinged with something I can't quite place.

Behind him, Micah and Elias appear, each offering me a warm smile. Micah takes my bag from me, his lavender and bread scent calming my nerves.

"This is your home for as long as you need," Micah says softly, his gentle reassurance melting some of the tension in my chest.

The house is stunning, with high ceilings, warm wood tones, and an open layout that feels both luxurious and lived-in. As Micah gives me a quick tour, he explains the layout, pointing out the kitchen, living spaces, and bedrooms.

"It's technically Theo's house," he says with a chuckle, "but we all call it home. That's why the pack name is Maddox-Theo's last name."

I pause, glancing at Theo, who's leaning casually against the wall, watching me. "Your last name is Maddox?"

He shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah." he shrugs, " I am Alpha" he winks with a smile that pulls at my abdomen and makes a flush go down my neck.

Later that evening, Micah leads me upstairs to show me his nest. I've heard about nests before, mostly in passing, but I've never seen one, let alone been invited into one.

"It's nothing fancy," he says, opening the door to his room, "but it's mine."

The scent hits me first-lavender, bread, and the faint citrus undertone that's uniquely Micah. His nest is a carefully arranged collection of blankets, pillows, and soft fabrics in warm, calming colors. It looks like the coziest, safest place in the world.

"Wow," I breathe, stepping inside. "This is...incredible."

Micah flushes slightly, scratching the back of his neck. "Thanks. I, uh, wasn't sure if you'd like it."

"Are you kidding?" I turn to him, a genuine smile breaking across my face. "It's amazing. It feels like you."

His blush deepens, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. Then he takes a step closer, his gaze soft and searching. "You can share it if you want," he says quietly.

The offer catches me off guard. "You'd let me...in your nest?"

He nods, his expression earnest. "Only if you're comfortable. It might help with your heat. And I'd...like to be close to you."

Something warm and heady stirs in my chest at his words. Before I can overthink it, I step closer, tilting my face up to meet his. "Micah..."

His hands cup my face gently, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as he leans in. The kiss is soft, sweet, and filled with an emotion I'm not ready to name. Heat flares between us, but it's tempered by the tenderness in his touch.

When we finally pull apart, both of us are breathing heavily.

"I should stop," he murmurs, his forehead resting against mine. "I don't want to push you."

"You're not," I whisper, my hands gripping his shirt to keep him close.

His lips brush mine again, but this time it's slower, more deliberate. The air around us feels electric, but he pulls back before it can escalate further.

"You're incredible, Ivy," he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.

I swallow hard, my heart racing. "Thank you. For everything."

Micah smiles, his hands sliding down to clasp mine. "You're welcome. Always."

That night, I made my choice. When I curl up in Micah's nest, the warmth and safety it provides is unlike anything I've ever experienced. As his lavender scent wraps around me, I realize that I'm not just accepting his help-I'm accepting him, and by extension, the others.

~~~

The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across Micah's room. I stir, nestled deep in the cocoon of blankets and pillows that make up his nest. It smells like him-lavender, warm bread, and the faintest hint of citrus. Safe. Comforting. Completely intoxicating.

I stretch lazily, the tension I've been carrying for weeks finally beginning to ebb.

Though the heat was still very much simmering under the surface.

A soft rustling sound catches my attention, and I turn to see Micah sitting nearby, his sketchbook balanced on his knees. His hair is tousled, a few stray curls falling over his forehead, and his lips curve into a gentle smile when he notices I'm awake.

"Morning," he says, his voice warm and quiet.

"Morning." My own voice is rough with sleep, and I feel a little self-conscious, but his smile only deepens, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He sets his sketchbook aside and moves closer, the mattress dipping under his weight. "How'd you sleep?" he asks, his tone soft but curious.

"Better than I have in weeks," I admit, letting my fingers brush over the edge of a nearby blanket. "Your nest is... incredible."

His cheeks flush a delicate pink, but his smile remains. "I'm glad it helped."

There's a pause, the air between us charged with something unspoken. I glance at his sketchbook, the page half-covered with a soft rendering of his nest, complete with the outline of a figure that looks suspiciously like me.

"You were drawing me?" I ask, my voice softer now, filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Micah's blush deepens, and he rubs the back of his neck. "I-yeah. I wanted to capture this moment. You looked so... peaceful. I didn't want to forget it."

My chest tightens, the vulnerability in his words wrapping around me. Without thinking, I lean forward and press my lips to his.

Micah freezes for a split second, and then he melts into the kiss, his hands coming up to cup my face as he leans in. His scent deepens, the warmth of it wrapping around me like a blanket. His lips are soft, moving with a sweetness that makes my heart ache.

I shift closer, and his arms slide around my waist, pulling me into his lap. The kiss deepens, and a soft, needy sound escapes me before I can stop it.

Micah pulls back just enough to look at me, his chest heaving. His pupils are blown wide, and his hands tremble where they rest on my hips. "Ivy..."

His voice is strained, like he's holding himself back.

"I'm okay," I whisper, threading my fingers through his hair. "I want this."

His gaze searches mine for a moment before he kisses me again, more urgently this time. His hands wander, sliding over my back and sides, as if he's memorizing the feel of me. My own hands roam too, brushing over the firm muscles of his shoulders and chest, the heat of his skin searing under my touch.

We break apart again, both of us breathing hard. Micah rests his forehead against mine, his voice low and rough. "I've never... I've never been with a woman before," he admits, his eyes lowering slightly.

The vulnerability in his voice makes my breath hitch. I blink, then smirk gently, trying to lighten the moment. "Me neither."

Micah's eyes widen in surprise before he bursts out laughing, his head tipping back. The sound is rich and warm, filling the room like sunlight. His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer as his laughter subsides.

"You're something else," he murmurs, his voice filled with affection.

I press a soft kiss to his cheek, my heart pounding in my chest. "So are you."

We sit there for a while, wrapped in each other's warmth, the world outside forgotten.