The last time I left the nest, it was still dark outside. But it has to be morning. Right?
Curious, I crawl toward the little landing, carrying the bowl of cold, dirty water with me. The rag fell in a few hours ago, but I couldn't be bothered to wring it out. There was no point in using it anymore. It’s too disgusting.
I set the bowl just outside the cove’s door, then glance out the window. It looks like it might be around mid-day.We’ve been fucking all night.
“You okay, beta?” Killian asks as Basil helps him slowly sit. The pack alpha passed out the last time he knotted Beth. Considering the number of times he’s rutted her, I’m amazed he’s still breathing.
“I’m okay.” I smile, but it’s weak. I’m so tired. We all are.
“I can’t believe he’s still hard.” Basil tilts his head down, staring between Tristan’s legs.
Tristan and Beth have been sound asleep for almost an hour. The burly alpha is flat on his back with Beth on his chest, and his knot still locked inside her. Tristan was the last to mark her, and his knot has lasted the longest.
“At what point should we call a doctor?” I ask, squinting at Beth's abused pussy. What I can see of Tristan’s dick is red and shiny.
“He’s fine,” Killian says confidently, before pointing at his own cock. The base is still slightly inflated and he’s also red. Raw. “Omegas make cocks do amazing things.”
Basil snorts in agreement, squeezing his own deflated knot. “Are we even sure that’s his knot? The bastard does have a very fat base.”
I nod, and my bottom clenches. Tristan isverythick. In fact, I’m sure I’m gaping, but I refuse to check. After having himandBasil inside me, I fear I’d be horrified by the mess they made of me.
“Should we move her?” I ask, worried about the cum and slick clinging to Beth’s folds. She needs to be cleaned. “Or roll them?”
“Nah,” Killian lets out a satisfied sigh. “Let them sleep.” He winces as he rubs the back of his neck. His hair sticks out in all directions, dried cum and slick clinging to the long tresses. “We should all sleep.”
“Agreed.” Basil lays back down next to Killian, settling in. “She’s about to flare up again.” He inhales deeply. “I can smell it.”
A sliver of worry grips me as I take in Beth’s already wrecked body. Her knees are pink and her wrists are bruised, but at least the bites on her neck are already healing. Just then, a faint whimper pulls from the omega’s throat and her hands twitch. I roll forward, ready to comfort her, but then Tristan begins to purr, and she settles.
“Is he purring in his sleep?” Killian asks in disbelief.
“Yup.” I try not to laugh when a snore jerks from Tristan’s mouth, interrupting the steady vibrations, but then they pick right back up.
“He just needed to relax.” Killian smiles, looking over his little pack. His eyes shimmer as he admires each one of us. “Come here, beta.” Killian pats the spot next to him.
I want to lay with him and snuggle, but I need to get some clean water. And not to mention I’m starving. Alphas and omegas don’t need to eat during a heat or rut. Their bodies are built to go days without proper nutrition. But betas aren't like that. We still need food and water.
“I need to wash her first,” I say as I slowly stand. “She’s got so much cum and slick stuck to her thighs, if I don’t wash it off soon, it’s going to harden into cement.”
Basil shifts onto his side, resting his hand on his hand. “Why do you keep wiping her down?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I just feel like I have to. Like Ineedto make sure she’s clean and coming and hydrated.” I shrug, not sure how else to word it.
“It’s stupid that they don’t have a beta version of Omega Studies in high school,” Basil says. “Betas are as important to packs as anyone else.”
I can’t help but smile at his kind words. Betas are often treated like burdens in a pack. We’re seen as dispensable and unnecessary. But not my alphas. They always make me feel loved and important.
“I’ll be right back,” I say when my stomach growls again.
Leaning down, I step into the bedroom, then stretch my arms and back. The air is a good ten degrees cooler, and it smells cleaner. Less musky. But I prefer the sweaty scent of sex.
I pick up the dirty bowl, then make my way down to the kitchen. My hips and thighs ache with each step. I didn’t realize how cramped we were in the cove. When the three alphas sprawl out, it doesn’t leave much room for me and Beth. But right now, she needs to be squished. Her body craves it.
Working quickly, I make a simple sandwich of meat and bread, scarfing it down while I gather supplies. I grab a fresh container of strawberries and a few bottles of cool water. Then I wash the bowl, scrubbing the grime away. Once everything is clean, I put all my stuff into a shopping bag, then refill the bowl with warm, soapy water, and grab a clean hand towel.
“I think that’s everything,” I say to myself right as a loud moan drifts from upstairs. Basil was right. Beth’s next wave has already hit.
Eager to get back upstairs, I fling the bag over my shoulder, then carefully pick up the bowl, but right before I turn, movement outside catches my eye. I freeze, staring out the massive window, but nothing moves. Not even the wind rustles the leaves of the big oak tree.
