Page 17 of Knot As It Seems

“Yeah, yeah. Um, then maybe some basic hygiene stuff?And a change of clothes? Something soft she’ll want to be curled up against.”

“I can do that. Just…I’ll get one of the other guys to hang out in the hallway so you can call for help if you need it.”

“Appreciate it.”

∞∞∞

Okay maybe I didn’t tell the other guys where I was going because of several reasons. I didn’t need anyone trying to tag along, and I didn’t need anyone else trying to give me shit for wanting to do something nice for Fable.

It’s odd to be walking into a store at three a.m., but I’m not the only one here. I appreciate the fact that the lights aren’t too overwhelming, which is probably to accommodate the omegas most alphas bring with them when shopping here. Just from the drifting of scents when the doors opened, I could tell there was at least one pack here somewhere, but the store is so damn big that I don’t think I need to worry about being in their way.

The carts are at least twice as big as most stores stock, and I wave off the associate offering help because this is something I need to do for myself. I let her explain how the store is laid out by function, so getting everything Fable could possibly want for a nest shouldn’t require any back tracking.

I wish I knew more about our stray omega so I could pick the colors and fabrics she prefers, but with Fable, we’re starting from the ground up. She can always return stuff she doesn’t like.

The store starts off with throw blankets, all of which are oversized so they’re better for packs. I look at all the color options from floor to ceiling but keep coming back to the blacks. Fable doesn’t strike me as an omega who would want pastels in her nest. She’s tough and defiant, and black feels right.

I grab a few different textures, then a thinner, gray, muslin blanket that’s incredibly soft with some silver stars woven in for sparkle; girls like that shit, right? I get a few in deep red as well, leaning heavily into the cliché vampire theme.

With my cart already looking much less empty, I move into the pillow section and basically just run on instinct. Luckily these are all vacuum sealed, so they don’t take up too much room in the cart. I stick with the theme I’m already working on, pulling star shaped pillows in different gray and black hues, then some long body pillows covered in a soft faux-fur-like fabric that almost tickles when it touches my palm. I don’t think about the money, because our pack won’t even notice the funds missing.

I get lost in the store, imagining everything I want to surround Fable in, not skimping on staple items like waterproof mattress protectors and extra sheets in case she ever wants us to help her through a heat. I find black lace wall panels to dim the brightness in the room and wall sconces that are battery operated and rechargeable, so I don’t have to worry about wiring them in. The display makes it look easy to program them to cast different colors on the wall for added ambience.

I get way more of the nesting fabrics than one omega can ever reasonably need, but the compulsion to buy everything for Fable who seems like she’s had nothing won’t letgo of me.

I do concede to help when the associate offers an extra cart and to start ringing up my purchases, and it’s nice she doesn’t try and linger or ask me questions about my omega or make me engage in small talk because I’m so focused on what I’m trying to do that I don’t think I’d be very good at it at the moment.

There are bat stuffies and cat stuffies that get added to the collection, fuzzy striped socks and soft loungewear that won’t overstimulate her when she’s nearing a heat. She gets those buttery soft sets in every dark color they have, some in multiples.

I pick up puzzle books so she has quiet activities she can do when she needs to recenter herself, and colorful pens and sketch books to make something fun, and I pick up enough alpha instructional books for the whole pack from a big display, touting years of research and dozens of professional endorsements. We never bothered with any sort of self help books when we were with Winslow, but this time around, I’m not leaving anything to chance.

I want my pack to become something Fable deserves, instead of something she’s just sidled with. If she laughs in my face and refuses everything, then that’s something I’ll deal with later.

I remember to grab the things Anderson asked for, building him a small wardrobe and then I black out in the bath products department, filling almost an entire new cart again with different bubble baths, bath oils, bath salts, and the like. Fable gets a few new plush robes and several pairs of slippers so she’ll have them all over the house, never needing to put her bare feet on the cold floors.

I have some doubts about how I’ll transport everything to the car and then into the house when I get back, but the shop has ridiculously oversized totes that everything gets neatly sorted into and then I’m checking out, hoping I didn’t miss anything.

The house is starting to stir for the day by the time I make it back, so I get everybody to carry stuff inside for me, leaving it right outside of the room that will be Fable’s nest when she’s ready.

I pull out a few of my favorites for her, along with the clothing, and I transfer it to a single bag and leave it by the door she’s still sleeping behind, along with a hastily scrawled note telling her where she can find the rest of her gifts, reassuring her the nest is completely unused. I’m feeling too nervous to peek in on her like I did earlier in the night, adrenaline crashing now that I’ve done all the shopping.

It’s nerve wracking writing my name on the note, because I don’t want her to think I’m chasing the clout of gifting it to her, and I’m hoping she gets that I just want her to be comfortable in her new home.

I racked up enough store reward points with my purchases that they gave me a gift card, so that goes into the note as well so that Fable can plan a future trip to pick out a few other things when she wants to.

I barely make it to my own room, having been up for 24 hours now, lying sideways on my bed with my noise cancelling headphones on and my blackout curtains pulled firmly shut so no one will bother me while I sleep.

Of course, my dreams are plagued with images of Fable laughing at me and the guys ridiculing me, but eventuallythey fade and I’m left with restful sleep that resets my system. At least until the sweetest smell sneaks into my room and slides onto my bed, turning my dreams into something a bit dirtier.

Twelve

I manage to avoid every alpha in the house when I wake up; even the one I dragged to bed with me is suspiciously absent, leaving behind only the cold trail of his scent to keep me company. I suppose he has to leave my side at some point, but if I find out they did something to him and that’s the reason he’s not where I left him, I’m going to become very scary.

I can smell another alpha in here, too, the one that smells of white tea and blackberry. I know I’m being stubborn about using their names, but they still haven’t given me cause to want to yet. They’re beginning to play nice, but the second they become actual people in my head, they turn into alphas that need managing and energy, and that’s a lot to take in.

After slipping on the incredibly soft clothing set in a deep gray that was laid out meticulously for me at the edge of the bed, I undo the sleep-mussed braid Anderson did and finger comb through my hair, then I set out to hunt down breakfast. That’s one of the perks of living here, right?Regular food? Maybe I’ll even admit I’m still thirsty and force one of them to feed me again.

The buzz of drinking from them yesterday hasn’t entirely left my body yet, and I’m anxious to make sure it doesn’t. I’ve never been this well satisfied and I’m going to take advantage of it while I can.