“You want your pack,” he says, matter-of-fact.
“Please,” I say. “Call them. I need—Please, Zane, I can’t?—”
He kisses me. “I’ll get them.” He tries to pull out, but his knot holds him fast. He curses, frustrated but amused. He brushes sweat-soaked hair from my face. “Guess we wait.”
He settles against me and holds me tight. I can feel every throb of his cock, every slow pulse of his release inside me while the storm outside continues to rage.
Eventually, his knot shrinks enough for him to slip free. My body protests the loss, clutching at empty air. The fresh wave of slick that follows makes me flush. Zane wipes me gently, using a corner of the sheet, then grabs his phone.
“Hang tight,” he says, already typing out the message to Lucas and Cole. “They’ll come running.”
I roll onto my side as he leaves the room and draw up my knees to my chest. The ache returns, worse this time,compounded by the memory of his weight and the shape of him inside me.
I slide a hand back between my thighs. The sheets are ruined, my skin slippery with sweat and desire, but I don’t care. I circle my clit, eyes squeezed shut, riding the edge until I hear Zane’s voice from the hallway:
“They’ll be here in ten.”
It’s not soon enough. But it will have to do.
I work my fingers faster, desperate for anything to take the edge off until the rest of my pack arrives. Above me, the storm swells, and I scream through the thunder, every sound a prayer and a curse as fever takes root.
I lose time. I lose myself. The wall clock drips slow seconds. Sweat pools at the hollow of my throat and dribbles into my collarbones. I stroke myself through the aftershocks of Zane’s knot and bite down on the pillow so I don’t wake the neighbors with my crying.
Lucas and Cole appear sometime later. Lucas’s scent hits me first: ocean and sea-glass. It’s a chill blue that cuts through the humidity. Cole’s follows, warm and cinnamon-bright. Comforting in a way that can only be described ascoming home.
My mouth waters. My legs nearly buckle.
“Helena!” Lucas’s eyes go wide when he sees my state. He rushes over, hands out. “Oh, little devil. Your alphas are here to help you.”
I swallow hard. “P-Please.”
“Yes, angel?” Cole asks.
I look from face to face. All three of them wear various shades of worry. These men are my alphas.My pack.I surrender this heat to them. But there is one thing missing.
“Can you—” I start, but my voice cracks. “Help me build a nest?” The shame is gone now. I only want their hands on me and a nest, arranging and making me safe. “I-I never made one here.”
Never even thought of it. Didn’t think a heat would come.
I’ve heard rumors of sudden scent-matches spiking an omega’s heat, drawing it forward past even the strongest suppressants. That’s how rare and powerful they are.
I just never assumed it would happen to me.
And I never wanted any of this. Not until I met them.
Lucas’s face lights up. “Yes, of course, Helena. Just direct us how.” He’s already scooping up blankets and pillows to make a pile on the bed.
I look to Zane. His concern has grown darker throughout the conversation. I read it so easily.
Nests can wait. Helping our omega through her heat comes first.
I need both. Nests are safe spaces for heats.
Cole follows Lucas to help him. Zane lets me direct him a little more specifically and soon has amassed a collection of candles from around the flat and a few decorations I’ve been eyeing. They are mine now for this nest.
I sit cross-legged, directing them with weak hand gestures. They make a fortress of soft things, layering it three deep and building a crater in the center just for me. I bury myself in the hollow, arms wrapped around my knees, heart hammering with anticipation.
They circle me, their scents dizzying. A fresh rush of slick soaks the inside of my thighs. I tug the hem of the T-shirt downover my thighs, but it’s pointless. Slick already stains the cotton. Its dampness clings to me.
