Page 135 of Bitter Truths

“Fuck,” Tristan murmurs.

I can hear their breathing, harsh and uneven.

“Take what is yours, Alphas.” The words come out husky, demanding. “If you still remember how.”

The challenge lands like a match on gasoline. Owen moves first, dropping to his knees behind me with a sound that’s half growl, half prayer. His hands hover over my skin without touching, trembling with restraint.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers.

Tristan appears at my side, fingers threading through my hair. “Most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”

When Owen’s fingers finally slide between my thighs, finding me slick and ready, the sound I make echoes through the forest.

“Fuck me,” he groans, his fingers exploring. “You’re soaked.”

His fingers slip deeper, and I let out a low whimper.

“Oh, you filthy, filthy little omega,” Owen laughs darkly, thrusting his fingers slowly. “Such a good girl.”

“Please,” I pant, grinding against his hand. “I need all of you.”

The words hit like a lightning bolt right where I aimed them.

Owen’s eyes flash pure black. “Mine,” he snarls, already dragging his cock free, thick and heavy and leaking for me.

Tristan growls ferally, no hesitation. His hand shoots out and slams into Owen’s wrist. “Like hell. I’ve been aching to bury my cock in her for years.”

“Fight for it,” I demand, head whipping around to glare over my shoulder, locking eyes with them. “Show me who wants to go first…”

They snap.

The tension explodes, and then they’re on each other, a violent tangle of snarling bodies crashing into the moss. Gone is the pretense of civilization… this is raw, alpha hunger unleashed. Muscles strain. Hands scramble for dominance.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

Freddie and Weller circle like wolves, their cocks visibly hard, straining against their pants. Freddie palms himself through the fabric, breathing hard.

“I want you last, little omega,” Weller growls, voice a low rasp soaked in need.

I nod.

Owen snarls and knocks Tristan to the ground, looking triumphant as he fumbles for his cock again. “I win. She’s mine.”

But Tristan uses the momentum to flip them.

“Yield,” Tristan says, pinning Owen’s shoulders to the mossy ground, his own erection pressing against Owen’s thigh.

“Fuck off, Tris,” Owen is bucking wildly beneath him, but Tristan’s position is perfect, his weight distributed just right. Finally, Owen stops fighting, muscles sagging in submission.

“Good boy,” Tristan purrs, then looks at me with eyes gone completely black. “Time to break in that pretty pussy, Bianca.”

He’s behind me before I can blink, rough hands seizing my hips like he owns them, hard enough to bruise. I feel the thick head of his cock nudging my entrance, and my body clenches in anticipation.

“Please—” I whine as I writhe against him. “Please, Alpha… I need to feel you.”

“I know you do,” he growls, driving himself forward.

I gasp at the invasion. The stretch is brutal, but devastatingly delicious. My vision bursts, and my body struggles to accommodate him.