“So,” Fallon says, breaking the comfortable silence. “We’ve talked about dating. We’ve talked about claiming. What about the logistics? The mechanics?”
Amber drops the plate she’s holding. It clatters into the sink with a loud crash.
“Fallon,” Eli warns.
“What? She’s wondering,” Fallon says, unrepentant. “Look at her face. It’s written all over it. Three Alphas, one bed. How does that even work, right?”
I nearly choke on the air I’m breathing. I grab a towel, wiping my mouth, staring at my brother in horror.
Amber’s face is the color of a ripe tomato. She refuses to look at us, scrubbing a glass with far too much vigor.
“It’s a valid question,” she whispers, so quietly I almost miss it. “I mean... I’ve tried to... research it. But the porn I found was all Betas.” She glances at Fallon. “I don’t get how three Alphas could... you know... without killing each other.”
Eli steps up behind me, his hand landing warm and heavy between my shoulder blades. He rubs a circle, silently telling me to breathe. To stop reacting.
Fallon laughs, pushing off the counter. He walks over to her, leaning in close. He isn’t deterred by her blush; he feeds on it.
“See, that’s the problem with Beta porn,” he says, his tone dropping, turning intimate. “It’s performative. It’s about ego. Pack sex isn’t about ego. It’s about sharing the experience. It’s about sensation.”
He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She freezes, her eyes wide.
“Imagine,” he says softly, “three sets of hands on you. One holding you down, one mapping your spine, one between your legs. It’s not about taking turns, Amber. It’s a flood. It’s overwhelming.”
Amber’s breath hitches. She stares at him, her chest rising and falling faster.
“It sounds intense,” she breathes.
“It is,” I say. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Fallon looks at me, grinning. He knows he’s got her. He knows he’s got me too.
“It can be,” I amend, my voice rougher. “If done right. It would be... overwhelming good.”
Amber whimpers, a tiny, broken sound. She sets the glass down, her hand trembling.
“Yeah?” she whispers.
Fallon drags his tongue over his teeth, a gesture that screams of hunger. “We could put you right on this table, Amber. Right now. Show you exactly how it works. Three sets of hands. No waiting.”
“Fuck,” Eli groans from behind me. He drops his forehead to my shoulder.
Amber stares at the island countertop, then at Fallon. The air in the kitchen is charged enough to power the city grid.
“I... I thought this was just going to be talk,” she stammers. “Dinner and talk.”
“It can be just talk,” I say quickly. I shoot a glare at Fallon that tells him to shut the fuck up. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for. This is about comfort, not pressure.”
Fallon looks at her, his eyes dark. “Is that what you want, Amber? Just talk?”
I wait. My heart is a hammer in my throat.
I wait for her to say yes. To ask to go home. To put an end to this torture that has me balanced on a knife’s edge of control.
She looks at Eli, who is watching her with worried warmth. She looks at Fallon, who is watching her with predatory heat.
Then she turns her head and looks at me.
The fear is there. The hesitation. But beneath it, burning bright and wild, is curiosity. And want.
