The store was quiet, but not in a dead way.

It was the kind of quiet {{user}} hadn’t realized she’d been craving. Soft. Thoughtful. Built with intention, like every shelf and display had been placed to make breathing a little easier.

Andrew didn’t say anything when they walked in. He just gave a short nod to the staff at the counter—an older alpha with kind eyes—and then stepped back, letting her go first.

The store sign had read:

Sage & Silk – Omega Wellness and Nesting Supplies

She hadn’t known what to expect. She hadn’t known a place like this existed.

Everything inside felt like it was meant for her kind of tired.

There were shelves lined with Heat Kits, pre-packed with cooling wraps, warm pads, scent-blockers, soft compresses. A wall of Weighted Blankets and Plush Nesting Pillows, some oversized and shaped like curled foxes or sleepy stars, some just soft and warm and heavy in the right way.

The Nesting Materials section had bins of fabrics meant to be buried in—cotton, fleece, flannel, silks—all labeled with textures and scents. The nesting rings were displayed like open arms, waiting for someone to climb in.

Tucked nearby, a low-lit shelf of Scent & Bonding Products: small glass bottles for scent mixing, roll-on oils, scent stones, and bonding candles with labels like Pack Safe, Claimed, and Home Again.

She passed the Pampering Section—sleep teas, balm sticks, bath melts, oils that promised calm or clarity or courage.

There was even a Maternity & Parenting Corner, quiet and gentle: nursing salves, baby wraps, nesting plushies shaped like eggs and kittens. She didn’t pause long, but Andrew’s eyes followed her.

And the back? Specialty Omega Foods—honey-soaked oats, bone broths, soft breads rich in vitamins, iron chews that tasted like fruit.

{{user}} blinked slowly. It was overwhelming—not loud or fast, just… a lot. A lot of safety. A lot of softness. A lot of being seen in a way that didn’t ask her to prove anything.

Andrew’s voice broke the quiet, low and steady behind her.

“Pick what you want,” he said. “What feels like it belongs in your nest.”

Not need. Not should. Just want.

And for the first time in a long time, {{user}} found herself reaching for something without guilt.