Wyatt's knot starts to form, the stretch making me whimper into Silas's mouth. But it's good, so good, my body welcoming the fullness, the connection, the claiming. When his knot locks fully inside me, I come apart, pleasure crashing through me in waves that seem to go on forever.
Wyatt collapses over me carefully, mindful of his weight, his face buried in my neck as he rides out his own release. His knot pulses inside me, and I feel the warmth of him filling me, marking me, making me his.
"You're mine," I whisper against Silas's lips, the words feeling right, feeling true. "All of you. My pack."
"You're ours too, sweetheart," Silas says, his hand stroking through my sweat-dampened hair. "Our Omega. Our mate."
Wyatt's knot recedes after a few minutes, the mechanics of my heat starting to wane slightly making them not last quite as long as they did the first day. He's able to pull out carefully, both of us wincing at the sensitivity. I immediately feel empty, my heat-addled brain already wanting more, needing to be filled again.
That's when Hunter reappears in the doorway with an armful of water bottles and protein bars. He takes one look at the three of us, at Wyatt pulling away and me already reaching for Silas, and makes a decision.
"Nope," he says firmly, setting down his supplies and crossing to the nest. "We're going downstairs for proper food."
"What?" I blink at him, confused through the heat haze. Food seems unnecessary when I have three perfectly good Alphas right here who could be taking care of my needs.
Hunter lifts me into his arms despite my weak protest, his hands careful on my overheated skin. "If we stay in the nest, you're not going to eat anything substantial. I'm hoping that if we're at least downstairs, maybe we can actually get real food in you before you try to climb one of us again."
"But I don't want food," I protest, even as my stomach chooses that moment to growl loud enough for everyone to hear. "I want..."
"We know what you want, sunshine," Wyatt says with a laugh, following us out of the nest. "But Hunter's right. You need actual nutrition, not just protein from us."
Silas trails behind, all four of us completely naked as we make our way through the house. It should probably feel strange, being this exposed, but my heat has burned away any sense of modesty or shame. We're pack. This is natural. This is right.
Hunter sets me on the kitchen counter, the cool granite making me shiver against my overheated skin. Wyatt moves to the refrigerator, pulling out containers of leftovers that someone must have prepared before my heat started. Probably Dylan, knowing my brother.
But I'm not interested in food. I'm interested in Silas, who's standing close enough to touch, his dark eyes watching me with poorly concealed want. I reach for him, tugging him between my legs, and he comes willingly, his body fitting against mine like he was made for this.
"Amelia," he says, but there's no real protest in his voice. Just fond exasperation.
I pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist, and feel him hard against me. My body responds immediately, slick and ready, my heat making me constantly prepared for my Alphas. "Please," I whisper, already arching into him.
He groans, his control cracking, and then he's entering me in one smooth thrust that makes us both gasp. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady on the counter, and he starts moving with controlled intensity.
"For fuck's sake," Hunter mutters from where he's trying to heat up food at the stove. "We're supposed to be feeding her, not fucking her on the kitchen counter."
Wyatt laughs, clearly finding the whole situation amusing. "To be fair, we all knew this was going to happen. Heat-addled Omega plus three Alphas equals very little actual food consumption."
"She needs to eat something other than dick," Hunter grumbles, but there's no real anger in his voice.
I'm not paying attention to their conversation anymore, too focused on the feeling of Silas moving inside me, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that tastes like home. His hands are everywhere, touching and caressing, his rain scent wrapping around me like the most comforting blanket.
His knot is just starting to form, that delicious pressure building, when the sound of shattering glass explodes through the house. Loud, violent, unmistakable. Close. Too close. From the bathroom just off the kitchen, the one connected to the small hallway that leads to the mudroom.
Everyone freezes. Even through my heat haze, pure instinct tells me something is wrong. Predator. Threat. Danger.
Silas's knot stops forming immediately, his body going rigid with alertness even as he stays buried inside me. His arms tighten around me protectively, positioning his body to shield mine. Wyatt moves to stand between us and the hallway, his body coiled and ready to fight despite his nudity.
Hunter grabs one of the large kitchen knives from the block on the counter, his face transforming into something dangerous and primal, every muscle in his body radiating lethal intent.
"Wyatt, call the units outside," Hunter says quietly, his voice deadly calm. "Now."
Wyatt grabs the landline phone from the wall, punching in the number for the patrol units that are supposed to be watching the house. I can hear it ringing, once, twice, three times before someone finally picks up.
"This is Officer Williamson, unit forty-two—"
"Where the fuck are you?" Wyatt snarls into the phone, his usual easy demeanor completely gone. "You're supposed to be watching our house."
"We got a call about a Vincent Hayes sighting two streets over," the officer says, confusion in his voice. "We're pursuing—"
