Page 44 of The Last Great Omegaverse

He does, unhurried, careful, and something in my chest that’s been braced tight since I woke up and crept out of his cabin, finally, fully, lets go.

The others arrive within the hour, apparently having watched Cal’s truck the whole time from the Ashworth farmhouse and given him exactly the length of time they’d agreed on before descending as a unit.

Coop’s first through the gate, moving faster than strictly necessary, and doesn’t bother with words at all, just wraps me up in a hug that lifts me clean off my feet, laughing into my hair. I laugh too, helpless, some of yesterday’s weight finally, properly lifting.

“You scared us,” he says, setting me back down, still holding on. “Turned your phone off. Went quiet. I nearly drove over four separate times and made myself wait, which, for the record, took every ounce of self-control I own.”

“I needed the day.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t terrifying, being on the outside of whatever you were working through.”

Asher’s next, hanging back slightly at the gate that isn’t like him at all. When I catch his eye, there’s something uncertain there that I recognize from our porch conversation, some old wound clearly still raw.

“Come here,” I tell him, and he does, slower than Coop. I take his face in both hands the second he’s close enough. “You are not interchangeable, Asher Reyes. Not to me. Whatever the land does or doesn’t care about, I care about the specific, ridiculous way you turned a hostile town council into your personal fan club just to buy me a couple extra days. I care about you. There is no version of this where any four alphas would’ve done. It was always going to be you, or nobody.”

His breath catches, something in his easy charm finally cracking all the way open. He kisses me hard enough that I feel it down to my toes, no performance left in it at all.

Silas hangs back longest, watching the reunion unfold with his usual distance. When I finally reach for him he comes without hesitation, steady, warm, pressing his forehead to mine for a long, quiet moment before either of us says anything.

“That balloon payment conversation is still owed to me,” I tell him. “But not today.”

“Not today,” he agrees, and kisses me slow, certain, everything he couldn’t quite say out loud in that truck finally settling into something solid between us.

It happens fast after that, the building fever I’ve been carrying for days finally cresting into something undeniable, heat rising under my skin in a way that has nothing left to do with confusion and everything to do with wanting, clear and certain and entirely, finally, mine.

“Something’s different,” Coop says, watching my face. He’s gotten good at reading me. Almost too good.

“Heat,” I manage, breathless, some old instinct answering the word the second I say it out loud. “I think it’s actually here.”

The air in the room shifts instantly, four Alphas going very rigid, very focused. Cal’s the one who finds his voice first, steady despite the current clearly running through all of them now.

“Your call,” he says. “Every part of this is your call, Wren. We can give you space, or we can stay, whatever you need.”

“Stay.” I don’t hesitate, not even a little. “All of you. This is me choosing it. There’s no confusion left in me about who’s doing the choosing. I want all four of you today, and I’m not interested in overthinking it a second longer.”

“Sassiest consent I’ve ever heard given,” Asher murmurs, already reaching for me.

“Get used to it. Now get inside the house. I’m not doing this out here for anyone to see.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before the four of them close ranks around me, not crowding, just present. Warm bodies and gentle hands and the continuous thrum of Alpha attention focused entirely on me.

Heat rolls under my skin in slow, rising waves, making every brush of fabric against my body feel too much and not enough at the same time. My scent spikes, sweet and open and unmistakable, and the answering rise of theirs—darker, heavier, four distinct notes weaving together—fills the living room, making it palpable with every inhale.

Cal is the one who guides me toward the couch first, the others moving with him like they’ve already agreed on this without needing words. He relaxes onto the couch and draws me back against his chest instead of pulling me into his lap, sure hands framing my hips, holding rather than claiming. Silas takes the space in front of me instead, kneeling, so we’re eye to eye, and the others move in around us. Coop on one side, Asher on the other.

“We go slow,” Cal says against my throat, voice already rough. “One at a time. You tell us if anything’s too much. You want to stop, we stop. Clear?”

“Clear.” I roll my hips against the hard line of his cock through his jeans just to feel him twitch. “Now someone get these clothes off me before I start chewing through them myself.”

They laugh and then hands are everywhere. They’re delicate, reverent, peeling layers away until I’m bare between them. The cool air kisses my skin only for a second before four pairs of hands replace it. Coop’s mouth finds the side of my neck. Asher’s fingers trail down the length of my spine. Cal leans in and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his thumb circles the other, close enough behind me that every roll of my hips grinds back against him. Silas holds himself in front of me, the thick ridge of his cock pressing up against my bare pussy, already soaked and aching.

I reach for Silas and work his belt open with impatient fingers. He helps, shoving jeans and underwear down just far enough, and then the hot, heavy length of him springs free against my folds.

I don’t wait.

Guided by Cal’s hands at my hips, I shift forward, notch him at my entrance, and sink down in one long, slow glide until he’s buried. The stretch of him fills every empty place inside me.

The sound that leaves my throat is pure relief.