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I have to be gone before then.
“Let’s get you inside.” I haul him against me, pretending I can’t feel his warmth, pretending he’s not clinging to me because all of this means nothing.
We stumble up the stairs like drunks. Only, if I were drunk, I would feel more numb. I’ve never felt more alive. Nerve endings I never learned about in class are lighting up, screaming, and begging for cock.
It gets worse with every heavy step to the second floor. My senses are waking up too, and I can scent all four alphas like they’re close enough to lick.
Leather and smoke. Citrus and cedar.
A whine slips from my lips.
Orion groans and his scent rises into the tangle, so sweet and sharp with need, I’m choking on cinnamon cider.
At the top of the steps, I pull him toward what has to be Atlas’s room. Even if I couldn’t taste the pack leader’s panty-dropping musk, I heard them in there. It’s the door that couldn’t hide moans so lust-soaked, a pornstar would have to fan herself.
“Nest,” Orion mumbles with a subtle head jerk to the second set of stairs.
The third floor may as well be a mountain, but he’s right. For his heat, he needs his nest.
Only, that’s the beating heart of his territory, a place I should never even see, let alone step inside while I’m dripping with my own pheromones.
“I don’t—”
“Nest,” he says again, in a muzzy, puppy-dog voice that I can’t refuse.
Gasping, we drag each other up the last flight and step through the door to a full-floor suite straight out of an omega’s hormone-drenched dreams.
The main room has an ultralow ceiling, luxe royal blue wall hangings, and a cushion-turned-floor that feels like walking on a cloud.
But, like, a firm cloud—one comfortable enough to support you while you lay back and get fucked brainless by your rutting mates.
The nest is piled with plush blankets and cushions, the fabric fresh and clean. Clearly no one’s been up here in ages, but it’s the only spot in the house the pack has kept spotless, always ready to meet Orion’s need.
It’s so cozy—so perfect—I want to camp here. I want to leap into the pile of blue satin cushions and curl up, feeling perfectly safe in the dim, windowless space until the alphas arrive and order me onto my knees.
My inner omega is drunk-off-her-ass-delusional tonight.
With a moan of relief, Orion stumbles into the pile of pillows I was eyeing.
He sinks in the same way I’m dying to, instinctively making himself comfortable even though he’s flying high.
I need to leave.
Like right now.
But my soft, stupid heart has me kneeling beside Orion because I know this is goodbye.
I push that blond curl away from his forehead the way I’ve wanted to since the moment I saw him. Clammy with sweat, my touch doesn’t offer any relief from his heat.
My fingers skate down to his neck, and I let myself linger, sipping on sweet apple juice while I check his pulse.
It’s stronger now, a steady beat that may as well be a ticking timer, because the second it’s back to normal, he’ll go for my throat.
I pull away.
Not expecting him to move, I’m not ready when he latches onto my wrist, gripping hard enough to ache in the best way.
“Need,” he mutters, blinking with a glazed expression that makes me suck a hot breath through my teeth.
