"It's not—it's not consent if my body—" I protested with a whimper.
"We know." Leo appeared on my other side, his gray eyes serious for once. "We know it's not the same. We know you'd never choose this if you had a real choice. But you don't have a real choice, sweetheart. Not anymore. So let us make it as good as it can be."
I was crying again. I didn't know when I'd started, but tears were streaming down my face, mixing with the sweat and the slick and the general ruin of my body.
"I don't want to want this," I sobbed. "I don't want to need you. I don't want?—"
"We know." Caleb's voice, rough and low, cutting through my spiral. He hadn't moved from the doorway, but his presencefilled the room anyway. "We've known from the start. But you do want it. You do need us. We're not going to let you destroy yourself pretending otherwise."
I looked at him—at all of them—and felt the last of my resistance crumble. They were right. God help me, they were right. My body wanted this. Needed this. Had always needed this, ever since I was fifteen and presented and felt the first stirrings of a desire I'd spent six years trying to bury. I could keep fighting. Keep resisting. Keep pretending I didn't feel what I felt, didn't want what I wanted. But my body was going to win eventually. The heat would see to that. And if I was going to surrender, if I was going to let them have me, then maybe, just maybe, it was better to do it with my eyes open.
To remember. Like they kept saying. To be present for every moment.
"Okay." The word came out as barely a whisper. "Okay." Mason's whole face transformed. Relief and joy and hunger all tangled together, making him look younger, more open, more like the boy I'd had a crush on when I was Sixteen.
"Okay?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite believe it.
"Don't make me say it again." I closed my eyes, unable to look at them anymore. "Just... just do it. Whatever you're going to do. Just make it stop hurting." I felt rather than saw them exchange looks. A silent communication between Alphas, deciding who would go first, how they would take me apart.
Then the mattress dipped, and Mason's scent wrapped around me like a blanket, and his hand cupped my face with devastating tenderness.
"Open your eyes, Red," he said softly. "I want you to see me."
I opened my eyes. He was right there, inches away, his honey-brown gaze holding mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. Behind him, the others watched. Waiting. Letting their Prime go first.
"I love you," Mason said. "I've loved you since you were Sixteen years old. I'm going to love you for the rest of my life. Right now, I'm going to show you exactly what that means."
Then he kissed me, and the world caught fire.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AVA
Mason's mouth was fire and honey and the end of everything I'd been fighting for.
The kiss started gentle, soft lips pressing against mine, coaxing rather than demanding. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn't surrounded by three other Alphas who were watching their Prime take what belonged to all of them. I should have bitten him. Should have fought. Should have done anything other than what I did, which was melt into him like I'd been waiting my whole life for this moment.
Maybe I had been.
His hand slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head, tilting my face up to deepen the kiss. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, asking permission my body gave before my mind could object. I opened for him, and he groaned, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through my chest and made my core clench with desperate need.
"That's it," he murmured against my mouth, his breath warm and sweet. "That's my good girl." The praise hit me like adrug, sending sparks of pleasure cascading down my spine. I whimpered, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer even as some distant part of me screamed to push him away.
"Mason," I gasped, his name coming out broken and desperate as I pulled back just enough to speak. "I can't—I don't?—"
"You can," he assured me, his honey-gold eyes burning into mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip. His thumb stroked along my jaw, tender even as hunger darkened his gaze. "You're going to let me take care of you now, Red. Going to let me give you what you need."
"I don't want—" I started to protest, but my voice faltered as his hand trailed down my throat.
"Your body says differently," he countered, his voice dropping lower, rougher. His fingers traced along my collarbone, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Your scent says differently. You're dripping for me, sweetheart. I can smell how much you need this."
Shame flooded through me, hot and bitter. He was right. God help me, he was right. My thighs were slick with arousal, my inner walls clenching around nothing, every nerve ending screaming for contact. The heat had won. My biology had won. And now I was going to lie here and let him help me through this because I didn't have the strength to do anything else.
Just sex, I told myself. Just getting through the heat. It doesn't have to mean anything.
"I hate you," I whispered, telling him again. I wanted to make sure he knew... but as I said that my hips arched up toward him, seeking friction, seeking relief.
"I know," he replied softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead with aching tenderness. "I love you anyway." Then his mouth was on my neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to my collarbone, and I stopped thinking at all. Everything becamesensation. Mason's lips on my skin, sucking and biting and licking. His hands mapping my body like he was memorizing every curve, every dip, every sensitive spot that made me gasp and writhe beneath him. He was still fully clothed, I was the only one naked, vulnerable, exposed, and somehow that made it worse. Made me feel more owned. More conquered.
