“Can you?” he asked, his gaze dropping pointedly to my trembling hands. “Because I’m not convinced. You’re practically vibrating, and not just from righteous indignation.”
I followed his gaze and felt a fresh wave of humiliation as I realized he was right. My hands were shaking, fine tremors running through my fingers. My coordination was shot, compromised by the confusing mix of pain, arousal, and adrenaline coursing through my system.
My stomach made the decision for me, growling with embarrassing volume.
“Fine,” I muttered, opening my mouth reluctantly. “But I’d like the record to show that I’m being coerced into this humiliation under threat of starvation.”
The moment the food touched my tongue, I regretted my resistance. It was delicious—the fish perfectly seasoned, the texture flaky and moist.
“Good boy,” Stefano murmured.
The praise sent another unwelcome shiver down my spine, making my still-hard cock twitch against the fabric of the sweatpants. I shifted uncomfortably, my tender ass reminding me of the spanking with every movement against the chair.
Marco had settled nearby with his own plate, watching me with obvious satisfaction. Matteo sat silently across the fire, his watchful gaze never leaving me as he ate.
Another bite appeared before my lips, and despite my desire to refuse out of spite, hunger won out. As I chewed, I became uncomfortably aware of how something new was happening to my body—a warmth that had nothing to do with the food or the fire, a prickling awareness that made my skin feel too tight.
It started in my core and radiated outward, a flush that crept up my neck and across my cheeks. My heartbeat accelerated slightly, and I became increasingly conscious of the alphas’ scents—pine and earth from Stefano, cinnamon and amber from Marco, cedar and something darker from Matteo. Scents that had been noticeable before were suddenly overwhelming, wrapping around me like physical presences.
“Stop staring at me like that,” I demanded, squirming uncomfortably as the confusing cocktail of sensations intensified. My body temperature was rising, making the evening air feel cool against my flushed skin.
“Like what?” Stefano asked innocently, though his expression was anything but.
“Like I’m dinner instead of the one eating it.”
His smile widened, showing teeth. “Who says you can’t be both?”
A strange shiver ran down my spine at his words. The arousal that had begun with the spanking was transforming, deepening, spreading through my body in a way that felt alarmingly familiar.
No. Not now. Not here.
six
. . .
The heat was undeniable now, growing more intense with each passing minute. My skin felt hypersensitive, every point of contact registering with alarming clarity. I was burning up from the inside out, and the worst part was that I knew exactly what it meant.
I could feel it now—slick beginning to gather between my thighs, my body preparing itself for something my mind desperately wanted to deny.
Stefano’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, his pupils visibly dilating even in the firelight. All three alphas were watching me now, their postures shifting from casual to alert in seconds. They could smell it—the change in my scent that signaled the beginning of heat.
“You’re starting to scent,” Stefano said, his voice tighter than before. “Early heat symptoms.”
“That’s impossible,” I replied, fighting against the mounting evidence of my own body. “I’m not due for weeks, and I took my suppressants this morning. This is just… stress.”
“Suppressants can fail under stress,” Marco said, his expression shifting from casual to focused in an instant. “Or when in prolonged contact with compatible alphas. Especially multiple compatible alphas.”
“I need my emergency suppressants,” I said, sudden panic overriding my pride. “They’re in my backpack. The one you confiscated.”
Matteo was already moving toward where my soaked backpack had been set aside to dry. “Where exactly?”
“Inside pocket, sealed waterproof container,” I replied, fighting the growing heat with every ounce of willpower I possessed. “Orange case with a screw-top lid.”
This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now. Not with them. Not when I was already painfully aroused from that humiliating spanking. The universe couldn’t possibly hate me that much… could it? This had to be a cosmic joke, the final punchline in the ongoing comedy of errors that was my life as an omega.
As Matteo searched my backpack, I became acutely aware of Stefano’s gaze fixed on me, tracking every subtle shift in my expression like a predator cataloging weaknesses in its prey. The heat building under my skin was making it hard to think straight, which was just fan-fucking-tastic timing given my current situation.
“There’s nothing here,” Matteo reported, returning with my backpack. “The waterproof case is gone.”
