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Slick saturated my panties, and I knew there was no saving them. “Yes, alpha.”
Rhett’s gray eyes went molten silver, sending a shiver up my spine.
Gentle hands turned me away, and I was back in front of Crew. “We won’t bite you.”
My heart twisted. “Not even if I want it?” Because I could feel my pulse pounding in my throat, my wrists. Places where an alpha typically marked their omega.
“We can’t. OS forbade it, remember? Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Everything is still too raw, too fresh,” Crew reminded me, though he looked reluctant. Like denying both of us was killing him. “You need time to get to know us before we make a big commitment like that.”
I bit my lower lip, resisting the urge to tell him I already knew they were my pack. This was my family.
But there was also a teensy tiny part of my brain that knew he was right. My shoulders sagged as I nodded. “I don’t know what I want yet. I have no idea what my future looks like.”
“Exactly,” Crew soothed, the voice of reason. “We can wear bite guards if you’d be more comfortable.”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. I’d seen bite guards in some of the omega magazines that Calla had kept around. They were advertised as a form of safe-sex for an omega who wasn’t ready for a bond.
Personally, I thought they looked like the demon child of a sports mouth guard and one of those hellish night-gear things I’d had to wear in middle school with my braces. And nothing said romance like having the guy balls deep inside you looking like Hannibal Lechter.
“I trust you,” I told Crew, but looked at each of them with a small smile.
The shocking part was I didn’t think it was the omega pheromones talking. Did it make sense that I trusted this pack after knowing them for less than forty-eight hours? To a beta, probably not.
But I wasn’t a beta anymore, and it was time I started thinking like an omega.
Besides, maybe there was more to that scent-match alpha and omega stuff than I really knew about. Saying it was fate sounded childishly naive, but it was definitely something. The pull I felt for these guys wasn’t normal. It was instinctive on a primal level.
Then again, I’d only met them as an omega with a messed up heat. Maybe once the pheromones cleared, I’d realize we were better off as friends or something.
No.
Something feral in the back of my mind rejected that thought with every fiber of my being.
Whatever. I’d deal with emotions and shit once I was finally done with this damn heat.
“One last thing.” Crew looked a little guilty, but squared his shoulders as though ready to absorb whatever blows I hurled at him. “We haven’t talked about birth control. Jude can wear condoms, but alphas can’t.”
“I have an implant,” I whispered.
Crew blinked, surprised. “Oh. Uh, okay.”
The words vomited out before I could stop them. “My periods were weirdly irregular—probably because I was a delayed omega—so I got an implant. I’ve had it since a few months before my parents died, and they’re good for five years…”
Crew gave a decisive nod. “That should cover you then. We’re all clean, for the record. With our job, we get checked regularly.”
My brows slammed down. “What kind of job needs you to get tested regularly for STDs?”
Kellan chuckled and pulled me into his arms. “The kind that puts us in danger of potentially needing blood transfusions.”
I looked at Jude, my heart breaking at the reminder, but he grinned and winked at me. “More like they have to check their alpha levels to make sure they aren’t at risk for going feral in the field.”
My smile was cut off by a whimper as another cramp gripped me. When my legs gave out, Crew caught me up in his arms.
“Enough talking, little omega,” he informed me, running his nose along my jaw. “Can I take you to your nest?”
I bobbed my head in an enthusiastic nod. Crew barked a laugh and carried me from the kitchen.
Jude grabbed my hand as I passed by. “I’m going to clean up down here first.”
