“I’m scared I’ll freeze when you need me most,” he said, his voice rough. “That the guilt will take over and I’ll fail you the way I failed that omega three years ago. That I’ll let you down when seconds matter.”
“But I’m choosing to trust that you won’t let me,” he finished. “That you’ll pull me out of my own head the way you did last night. That we can help each other be better than we are alone.”
Sable looked at each of us, tears forming in her dark amber eyes. “You’re all disasters.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But we’re your disasters. If you’ll have us.”
The heat chose that moment to surge, making her gasp and curl forward slightly. Her scent spiked, calling to us with biological imperative that was almost impossible to resist.
But wedidresist. Because she needed to choose us first.
Needed to say yes before we could say anything back.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I’ll have you. All of you. I don’t know if this is smart or sane or anything except terrifying, but yes.”
Something in my chest that had been locked tight for three years finally loosened.
“Then we’re yours,” I said simply. “For as long as you’ll keep us.”
Chapter 15
Beau
The first thing I learned about Sable in heat was that she tried to stay in control even when her biology demanded surrender.
The second thing was that watching her finally let go was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
We’d stayed with her through the evening as the heat built in waves, each one stronger than the last. Dane had taken the first shift, sitting beside the nest while Sable rode out the initial surges, his calm presence grounding her. Then Silas, who seemed to instinctively know when she needed touch and when she needed space, his scent-sensitivity guiding him through her fluctuating needs.
Now it was my turn, and the house was thick with her scent. Cedar smoke and autumn rain and something uniquely her, something that bypassed my conscious mind and spoke directly to every alpha instinct I possessed.
I’d brought water and a protein bar, placed them carefully within reach of the nest. She’d eaten earlier, at Silas’s gentle insistence, but heat burned calories fast. She’d need sustained nutrition to make it through.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, taking the water bottle. Her hands were shaking slightly as she drank, and I watched the long line of her throat as she swallowed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, keeping my distance, giving her space to answer honestly.
“Like I’m being pulled apart from the inside.” She set down the water bottle and wrapped her arms around herself. “Like my body is demanding things my brain isn’t ready for.”
“What’s your brain saying?”
“That this is too fast. That I barely know you. That I should be scared.” She looked at me with those dark amber eyes that saw too much. “But my brain isn’t winning right now.”
“What’s your body saying?”
She was quiet for a moment. “That you smell like safety. That having you here makes the heat more manageable. That maybe I don’t have to do this alone.”
“You don’t have to do anything alone. Not anymore.” I moved slightly closer, still not touching. “Can I ask you something?”
“Okay.”
“When you went through heat before, were you alone?”
She nodded. “Every time. Nathan wouldn’t help during my heats. Said it was beneath an alpha of his station to deal with biological necessities. He’d book me a hotel room, make sure I had supplies, and leave.”
The anger that flared through me was swift and hot. What kind of alpha left their omega to suffer through heat alone? What kind of partner treated biology like an inconvenience instead of an opportunity for bonding?
“That’s not how this works,” I said firmly. “Heat is pack time. When you’re vulnerable and your biology is demanding connection, that’s when the pack proves they care. That’s when we show up.”
