It started as a warmth low in my belly, a familiar flutter that I'd felt before during my regular cycles. But this was different. Stronger. More urgent. It spread through my limbs like wildfire, racing along my nerves, making my skin feel too tight, too sensitive. Even the soft fabric of Levi's henley against my cheek was suddenly too much stimulation, every thread distinct against my overheated skin.
My heart rate spiked. My breathing quickened. And between my thighs, a throbbing ache bloomed, growing stronger with each passing second.
"Daphne?" Oliver's voice cut through the haze, sharp with concern. His hand had stilled on my ankle, his grip tightening slightly. "Are you alright? You look flushed."
I opened my mouth to answer, but what came out instead was a soft whimper as another wave of heat crashed through me. My back arched involuntarily, my fingers curling into the couch cushions, my whole body suddenly, desperately aware of the four alphas surrounding me.
Their scents hit me like a physical force. Each one distinct, each one intoxicating, weaving together into something that made my head spin and my core clench with need.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
"I think..." I gasped, pressing my hand to my stomach, feeling the muscles flutter beneath my palm. "I think I'm going into heat."
The effect on the room was immediate and electric. All four alphas went rigid, their bodies tensing, their nostrils flaring as they caught my scent, which must have been changing, sweetening, broadcasting my condition to every alpha nose in the vicinity. I could see their pupils dilating, their breathing deepening, their careful control starting to strain at the edges.
Levi's hand had frozen in my hair, his whole body trembling beneath me. Garrett had risen from his chair, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, a low rumble building in his chest. Micah's composure had cracked completely, his dark eyes blazing with an intensity that made my breath catch. And Oliver…Oliver was gripping my ankle hard enough to bruise, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping.
"That's not possible," Micah said, but his voice was strained, rough in a way I'd never heard before. "Your cycle isn't due for another three weeks. I checked."
"The doctor warned this might happen," Oliver said tightly. He'd released my ankle, his hands now gripping his own thighs, knuckles white with the effort of holding himself back. "Omega's bane can disrupt hormonal cycles. Trigger early heats. It's one of the side effects they mentioned."
Another wave hit me, and I doubled over, a moan escaping my lips. The sound was obscene, desperate, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment even as my body screamed for more. God, it was so much more intense than my normal heats. Whether it was the poison's aftermath or the emotional trauma or simply the fact that I was surrounded by four alphas I desperately wanted, my body was demanding attention in a way it never had before.
Every nerve ending was alight. Every breath brought their scents deeper into my lungs, stoking the fire burning inside me. I could feel slickness gathering between my thighs, my body preparing itself, and the empty ache in my core was becoming unbearable.
"What do we do?" Levi asked. His voice had dropped an octave, roughened by desire, and his hands were shaking where they hovered above me, not quite touching. "We can't just... she's still recovering. She's not..."
"I'm fine," I managed, though my voice came out breathy and desperate, nothing like my normal tone. "I want this. I told you I wanted this."
"Not like this," Garrett said roughly. He'd moved closer without me noticing, standing at the end of the couch, his massive form blocking the firelight. His eyes were dark, almost black, his chest heaving with barely controlled breaths. "Not when you're not in control of your own body."
"I am in control." I forced myself to meet his eyes, to make him see the truth in mine despite the need fogging my brain. "This isn't the heat talking, Garrett. I decided this morning. I decided three days ago in that hospital bed. The heat is just... making it more urgent."
I reached for him, and when my fingers brushed his arm, we both gasped at the contact. Even that simple touch sent sparks skittering across my skin, made the ache between my thighs intensify until I could barely think. His skin was hot beneath my fingertips, his muscles taut, and I could feel the restraint vibrating through him, the effort it was taking not to touch me back.
"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking on the word. "I need you. All of you. Please don't make me go through this alone." The alphas exchanged glances, a rapid, silent communication that spoke to years of knowing each other, of working as a pack, of making decisions together.
"If we do this," Oliver said slowly, his voice strained but steady, "we do it properly. We take care of her. We make sure she's hydrated and fed between everything. We check in constantly, make sure she's still consenting, still okay."
"Agreed," Micah said, his clinical tone at odds with the hunger in his eyes.
"Obviously," Garrett added, his hand finally—finally—covering mine where it rested on his arm.
"Can we stop talking about it and actually help her?" Levi demanded. He was still trembling, his whole body strung tight as a bowstring. "She's suffering."
Oliver crossed to me, kneeling down so we were at eye level. This close, his scent was overwhelming. His blue eyes searched mine, looking for doubt, for hesitation, for any sign that I didn't truly want this.
"Daphne." His voice was strained but steady, that pack alpha authority cutting through even the haze of desire. "I need you to tell me, clearly, that this is what you want. Not just the heat talking. You."
I grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling the fine cotton bunch beneath my fingers, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the fabric. I forced myself to focus through the haze of need, to find the words he needed to hear.
"I want this," I said, as clearly as I could manage. "I want you. I want to be mated. I want to spend my heat with my pack. Please, Oliver. Please." Something shifted in his expression—a final barrier falling away, the last of his resistance crumbling.
"Okay," he said softly, his hand coming up to cup my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. "Okay, sweetheart. We've got you." He scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing, and I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his scent, letting it wash over me in waves of comfort and desire. His heartbeat was strong against my cheek, his arms solid and secure around me.
"Where?" Garrett asked, his voice rough.
"Her room," Oliver decided. "She is going to want her nest during this I suspect.." As he carried me up the stairs, flanked by the others, I felt the last of my fear melt away. This was happening. After everything, the waiting, the fear, the attack, the hospital, I was finally going to be theirs.
