"Sorry," I gasped, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment even as my body betrayed me further. "I can't—I can't control it."
"Don't apologize." Silas's voice was rough, almost a growl. "Never apologize for that. You smell like heaven." The word sent a shiver down my spine, settling deep in my stomach where the need coiled tighter and tighter.
They arranged themselves around me—Harper to my right, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his massive body; Remy to my left, his hand resting on my knee, thumb stroking absent patterns that made my skin tingle; Silas at the foot of the bed, watching me with those pale, intense eyes.
For a moment, none of us spoke. The air was thick with scent—pine and moonshine, honey and whiskey, ozone and rain, allof it underlaid with apple cider gone sharp and sweet with need. I could taste them on my tongue, could feel their presence like a physical weight pressing against my skin.
"Rules," I managed, my voice coming out breathier than I intended. "We talked about no biting. No bonding. But there's more. Things I need you to understand before... before I can't think anymore."
"We're listening," Harper said, his gray eyes dark and focused entirely on me, his massive body leaning forward slightly like he was ready to catch every word. "Whatever you need."
I took another breath, trying to organize thoughts that kept scattering like startled birds. "When the heat hits—really hits—I'm not going to be... me. Not entirely. I'll be running on instinct. Need. I might say things, do things, beg for things that I wouldn't normally." I met each of their eyes in turn, making sure they understood. "Including bites. I might beg you to claim me. To bond me. To mark me permanently."
Remy's hand tightened on my knee, his jaw going tight, a muscle jumping beneath his stubbled cheek. His amber eyes flared with something fierce and protective.
"And you need to say no," I continued, holding his gaze even as my voice trembled. "Even if I'm crying. Even if I'm begging. Even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to give me what I'm asking for. You say no. You wait. Because that's what I want—the real me, the one talking to you right now. Do you understand?"
"We understand," Harper said, his voice rough but steady as bedrock, his hand finding my other knee and squeezing gently. "No bites. No matter what you say during the heat. We wait until after. Until you can choose with a clear head."
"Thank you." I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders, my hands unclenching from where they'd fisted in the blankets. "There's more."
"Tell us," Silas said quietly, his pale eyes never leaving my face, patient and steady as always.
"This only works if you work together." I looked between the three of them—the mountain, the charmer, the ghost. Three Alphas who, by all rights, should be at each other's throats over an omega in heat. "I need you to share me. No fighting. No competition. No snarling at each other over who gets what. If you can't do that—if the instinct to compete is too strong—then you need to leave. Right now. Before it's too late."
Silence. Heavy and charged.
Then Harper spoke, his voice carrying the weight of the Head Alpha. "We've already discussed this. The three of us." He glanced at Remy and Silas, something passing between them—some understanding I wasn't part of. "We know what we're walking into. We know our instincts are going to be screaming at us to fight, to claim, to be the one who—" He broke off, jaw clenching. "But we're not animals. We can control ourselves. For you."
"He's right, chere." Remy's voice was softer than usual, stripped of its usual charm. "I won't pretend it'll be easy. Watching the others touch you, be inside you..." He shuddered, a growl rumbling in his chest before he forced it down. "But I'd rather share you than lose you. We all would."
Silas just nodded, his pale eyes burning. "Pack," he said simply, like that one word explained everything. And maybe it did. Something warm bloomed in my chest, cutting through the fever and the need. They were choosing this. Choosing me. Choosing each other.
"Okay." My voice came out thick. "One more thing."
They waited.
"You take care of each other too." I looked between them, making sure they understood. "This isn't just about me. Heats are intense. If one of you needs a break, you take it. If someone needs water, food, rest—you make sure it happens. No one pushes through when they need to stop. Promise me."
"We promise," Harper said, his voice a low rumble, one massive hand reaching out to squeeze my thigh in reassurance. Remy nodded, his amber eyes soft with something that looked like tenderness. Silas just dipped his chin once, a sharp acknowledgment, his scarred fingers curling against the blanket.
The fever spiked suddenly, a wave of heat rolling through me that made me gasp, my back arching off the headboard. Slick flooded between my thighs, soaking through my already-ruined underwear, and I heard all three of them groan—a harmony of desperate want that made my skin prickle.
"It's close," Silas said, his voice strained, his pale eyes tracking over me with an intensity that bordered on reverent. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. "I can smell it changing. Getting stronger."
"Artemis." Harper's hand found my face, rough and warm, turning me to look at him. His gray eyes were dark as storm clouds, intense, filled with something that looked terrifyingly like devotion. "Who do you want first?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. I'd known it was coming—had been thinking about it since we'd agreed to spend my heat together—but hearing it out loud, with the fever burning through my veins and the need coiling tighter with every breath...
I looked at Harper—solid, steady, the mountain who had waited so patiently for me. I looked at Remy—charming, passionate, the devil who had shown me his real self. I looked at Silas—quiet, intense, the ghost who had finally started to live again.
I wanted all of them. Needed all of them. But someone had to be first.
"You," I said to Harper, my voice cracking on the word. "You're the Head Alpha. You should... it should be you." Something flickered across his face—relief, maybe, or gratitude, or just raw, overwhelming want. His thumb stroked my cheekbone, gentle despite the size of his hand, his gray eyes searching mine.
"Are you sure?" His voice was rough, careful, giving me one last chance to change my mind. "Because if you want?—"
"I'm sure." I turned my head, pressing a kiss to his palm, feeling the calluses against my lips. "I want you first. Then..." I looked at Remy and Silas, heat flooding my cheeks. "Then we'll see. I don't know how this is going to work. I've never—I've never done this before. With anyone, let alone three."
