"But the kids," I gasp, my mind already spinning with logistics and panic. "I can't be in heat with the kids in the house. What if they hear something? What if my scent affects them? What if—"
"Dylan and Maddox," Wyatt says immediately, cutting through my spiral. "We'll call them first thing in the morning. They can take Riley and Isaac for a few days."
"A week," Silas corrects. "Maybe longer, depending on how long your heat lasts. First heats with a scent match can be intense and they vary in length. But we'll be here with you through all of it."
"All three of you?" My voice is tiny, uncertain, the question barely more than a whisper.
"All three of us," they confirm together, and the certainty in their voices helps settle something in my chest.
"We need to tell Hunter," I murmur, the thought occurring to me through the haze of exhaustion and lingering pleasure. "He needs to know. He'll want to... he should know what's happening."
"First thing in the morning," Silas promises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "He'll want to know. Need to know. He'll probably be frustrated he wasn't here tonight, but he'll understand."
"Will he...?" I can't quite finish the question, can't articulate what I'm asking. Will he want to be part of this? Will he want me during my heat? Will he finally let himself have what he's been holding back from?
"Want to be part of this?" Silas finishes for me, reading my thoughts. "Yes. Absolutely yes. He's been holding back because he's terrified of scaring you, of being too much, too intense. But he wants you, Amelia. Desperately. He has since the beginning."
The thought of Hunter, intense and protective and careful, being with me during my heat makes my stomach flip. But it's not fear. It's anticipation. Want. The desire to have all threeof them, to be surrounded and protected and cared for by my Alphas.
My Alphas. The thought should terrify me, the possessiveness of it, the permanence it implies. But wrapped in their arms, surrounded by their scents, I can't bring myself to be afraid.
"Okay," I whisper, letting my eyes drift closed as exhaustion finally pulls me under. "Okay."
"Sleep, sunshine," Wyatt murmurs against my hair, his arm tightening around my waist. "You're going to need your rest. When your heat hits properly, you'll need your strength."
"We've got you," Silas adds, his hand still stroking soothing patterns on my skin. "You're safe. You're wanted. And you're not going through this alone. Never alone again."
Wrapped in their arms, surrounded by their scents, I finally let myself believe that maybe this won't be like every other heat I've endured. Maybe this time, I won't wake up in a sterile facility with only the fading memory of sedation and pain. Maybe this time, I'll have them. All of them.
Maybe this time, I'll be exactly where I'm supposed to be.
The thought carries me down into sleep, warm and safe and, for the first time in my life, actually looking forward to what comes next instead of dreading it.
Amelia
I wake up wrapped in warmth, sandwiched between Silas and Wyatt in a way that should probably feel overwhelming but just feels safe. Silas's arm is draped over my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck. Wyatt is facing me, one hand tangled in my hair, his expression peaceful in sleep in a way it rarely is when he's awake.
The early morning light filters through the curtains, painting everything in soft shades of gold. I lie there for a moment, justbreathing, letting myself feel the contentment that's settled into my bones.
My body aches in the best possible way, a reminder of last night and everything that happened. There's a pleasant soreness between my thighs, and when I shift slightly, I can feel the evidence of what we did, the way my body has been thoroughly claimed even without a bond. My skin feels too warm again, that restless pre-heat energy simmering just below the surface. Soon. Very soon my heat will hit properly.
The panic about my approaching heat has faded, replaced by a cautious hope that maybe this will be okay. That I won't have to face it alone.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, Dylan's name lighting up the screen. I carefully extract myself from the tangle of limbs, both Alphas stirring but not waking as I slip out of bed. I grab Wyatt's shirt from the floor and pull it on, the fabric hanging almost to my knees, before padding out into the hallway to take the call.
"Morning," I answer quietly, closing the bedroom door behind me so I don't wake them.
"Morning, sis. Just checking in. You didn't come home last night." There's something in Dylan's voice, a note I can't quite identify. Not disapproval exactly, but something.
"I stayed over. I'm sorry, I should have called." I lean against the wall, suddenly aware of how I must look. Wearing an Alpha's shirt, my hair a mess, probably covered in scent marks I can't even see.
"It's fine. You're an adult, you can make your own choices. I'm happy for you, Amelia. Really, I am." He pauses. "Actually, there's something I need to talk to you about soon. Not over the phone. But it can wait until you're home."
"Is everything okay?" Worry spikes through me, my hand tightening on the phone.
"Yeah, just some paperwork stuff. Nothing urgent. We'll talk later, okay?"
The vagueness makes my stomach twist, but I trust Dylan enough to believe him that it's not an emergency. "Okay. Later."
