[BL]Reborn as the Empire’s Most Desired Omega

Two hours later the house had gone unnaturally quiet. Windstone had spirited Mia, Lucius, Alistair, and even Benjamin off to guest suites in another wing with the kind of smooth efficiency that only decades of butlering could produce. The corridors outside Lucas's rooms smelled faintly of fresh linens and sandalwood polish, a neutral veil over the cedar and honey that still hung in the air.

Lucas had lasted exactly twenty minutes at his desk before the creeping heat and the noise in his head had driven him out. His laptop sat abandoned on the blotter, screen gone to sleep. Now he was in the wardrobe off their bedroom, a cave of dark wood and cedar-scented fabric, trying to build a nest out of Trevor's clothes. Sweatshirts, shirts, and even one of Trevor's tailored jackets were heaped in a circle, soft and smelling like him. Lucas crouched in the middle, knees drawn up, eyes half-shut, breathing slow and shallow.

He was still there when the door opened behind him and a familiar scent cut through the air like a lifeline.

"Lucas?" Trevor's voice was low, careful. He stepped inside, letting the door click shut, and followed the trail of cedar and heat to the wardrobe. "Windstone said you'd gone to lie down."

Lucas lifted his head just enough for green eyes to peek out over a pile of shirts. "Lying down," he murmured, voice hoarse. "In here."

Trevor leaned against the doorframe, taking in the scene: his usually composed omega half-buried in a nest of his own clothes, platinum ring glinting faintly under the closet light. The corner of his mouth softened despite himself. "You picked my wardrobe?"

Lucas pressed his face back into a sweatshirt, inhaling. "Smells like you," he muttered. "Everyone else is too loud."

Trevor crouched, the cedar of his skin warm and steady now rather than sharp. "I cleared them out," he said quietly. "They're on the other side of the house. It's just us."

Lucas's fingers curled in the fabric of his jacket. "Good. Don't want them."

Trevor reached out, brushing his knuckles gently over Lucas's temple. "Then come out of there, my love," he murmured. "Or should I climb in with you?"

Lucas's mouth twitched into a small, exhausted smile. "You'd ruin the nest," he said, but his voice softened as he shifted closer to Trevor's touch.

"Nests are for both of us, aren't they?" Trevor's voice was a low rumble, a balm against the raw edges of Lucas's senses. He didn't wait for an answer. He simply began to ease into the circle of clothes, his large frame displacing a soft flannel shirt.

Lucas made a sound, a faint, protesting whimper that was utterly betrayed by the way his body arched toward the heat Trevor radiated. Cedar and safety. Alpha.

"Shhh, I know," Trevor soothed, finally settling on his knees, caging Lucas in with his presence without actually touching him. "Just making it better." He reached past him, plucking a cashmere sweater from the pile and draping it over Lucas's hunched shoulders. "There. Now it's our nest."

The simple declaration shattered the last of Lucas's fragile composure. A full-body shudder wracked him, and he swayed forward, his forehead coming to rest against Trevor's solid thigh. He breathed in, deep and ragged, the scent of his alpha flooding his system, drowning out the phantom noises, the lingering traces of other people, and the frantic static in his own head.

Trevor's hand came to rest on the nape of his neck, his thumb stroking slow, firm circles into the tense muscle there. "That's it. Just breathe me in. It's only us now."

Lucas let out a shaky sound, somewhere between a sigh and a sob. The warmth of the cashmere, the press of cedar and the low rumble of Trevor's voice stripped away the last of his brittle control. He stayed with his forehead against Trevor's thigh, fingers knotted in the hem of his jacket, trying to ride out the pulse under his skin.

"I hate this part," he whispered, voice muffled. "Everything is either too hot or too loud."

"I know," Trevor murmured. He stayed where he was, solid and patient, one hand cupping the back of Lucas's neck, the other smoothing down over his shoulders. "You're safe. We are the only ones here."

Lucas shifted minutely, trying to draw another lungful of the scent that steadied him. "They'll hear."

"They won't," Trevor said. "Windstone has the wing sealed. Even Benjamin knows better than to knock."

That earned a weak huff of laughter against his thigh. "Benjamin never knows better."

Trevor's mouth curved. "He does when it comes to you."

For a few heartbeats there was only the quiet sound of breathing. Trevor's thumb traced slow, steady circles at the base of Lucas's skull, easing the tightness there. Each stroke sent another ripple of warmth through the omega's body, bleeding off the frantic edge of the heat before it could overwhelm him.

"Better?" Trevor asked quietly.

Lucas tilted his head just enough to meet his eyes. They were glassy but clearer now. "A little," he admitted. "Don't move."

"I won't." Trevor shifted only enough to draw Lucas fully into his arms, settling them both more comfortably among the pile of shirts and jackets. "We'll stay here as long as you need."

Lucas sagged against him at that, the tension draining out of his muscles one thread at a time. Wrapped in Trevor's scent and clothes, the static in his head faded to a manageable hum. For the first time all day, his breathing began to even out.

Trevor smoothed a hand over the back of his head, suddenly aware of the weight of what he was holding. They'd been married over a year. He'd been at Lucas's side through that first, frightening heat; he'd seen every public mask and private fracture. But Lucas had never done this, never crawled into a nest, never let instinct pull him all the way down into safety. Until now.

He bent his head, voice a low murmur. "This is new," he said. "You've never built a nest before."

Lucas made a small sound of assent against his chest. "I didn't feel the need, never; this is my first time in both lives."

Trevor's chest tightened. He pressed a slow kiss into Lucas's hair. "It's all right. Your body knows it's safe. You're safe."

Lucas shifted, fingers curling in the fabric of Trevor's shirt. "Feels strange," he whispered. "Good. But strange."

"That's what peace feels like," Trevor said quietly. "Let it. You've earned it."

They stayed there in the cedar-scented dark, the wardrobe becoming a cocoon around them. Outside, the estate was quiet; inside, Lucas's breathing slowed further, matching Trevor's, a steady rhythm that felt like the first true stillness either of them had had in months.