Right. No flirting. No encouraging. No anything that might make this situation more complicated than it already is.
Another wave hits, stronger this time. I bite down on my lip to keep from making a sound, but I can’t stop the way my body responds. The flush that spreads across my skin. The slight catch in my breathing. More slick. God, I’m going to soak through my underwear at this rate.
“Sierra?” Dax’s voice is sharp, concerned, but also rough with barely restrained need.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically. “Just... heat wave. It’ll pass.”
But I’m not fine. My hands are shaking. There’s slick gathering between my thighs, and I know they can smell it. I can see it in the way they’re all holding themselves so carefully still, like one wrong move and something’s going to break.
Dax’s hands are clenched so tight I think he might be drawing blood with his nails. Cole has gone completely rigid, his jaw tight. Malik’s phone has dimmed in his hand because he’s stopped moving entirely. Jalen is staring at the wall like it holds the secrets of the universe, but I can see the tension in every line of his body.
They’re hard. All of them. Fighting it. Fighting the urge to come to me, to help me, to claim me.
I dig my nails into the armrest instead, using the pain to ground myself.
“We should get you back to your room,” Dax says, and it’s not a suggestion. It’s an order wrapped in concern, alpha command bleeding through despite his obvious effort to control it. His voice has dropped lower, rougher, and it does things to me that are absolutely not helpful right now.
My omega wants to obey. Wants to submit to that tone, to do what the alpha says, to let him take care of me.
My rational brain wants to argue, to insist I’m fine, to maintain some dignity.
The compromise is me nodding stiffly and pushing myself out of the chair on shaking legs.
“Right,” I say, proud that my voice is mostly steady. “I can manage to go back alone.” I release a slow breath. “So, we have a plan. Separation. Meals outside doors. Emergency whistles. Music for... noise management.”
“We’ll make it work,” Jalen says gently, but his voice is strained. “It’s not ideal, but we’re all adults. We can handle this.”
“Agreed,” I say, even though I’m not entirely sure I believe it.
I make it three steps toward the hallway before I have to stop and brace myself against the wall. Everything is spinning slightly. Too hot. Too much sensation. Too many alpha scents making my omega cry out for things I can’t have.
“Sierra—” Dax is moving toward me, and I can hear the restraint in every movement. Like he’s fighting himself with every step.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, holding up a hand to stop him. “Just need a second.”
He stops, but every line of his body is tense, coiled, ready to move if I show any sign of actually falling. His eyes are dark, almost black, and the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like prey.
It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
I take a breath. Then another. Force my legs to work.
“This situation isn’t ideal,” Dax says, his voice rough. “But we’ll manage. We’ll all get through this.”
I look back at him and then at all of them.
They want me. I can see it in their eyes, smell it in their scents, feel it in the electric tension that fills the room.
And I want them too. God, I want them.
They’re good men. Really good men.
Which somehow makes this harder.
“We’re all adults,” I agree, echoing Jalen’s words. “We can handle this.”
I make myself walk down the hallway with as much dignity as I can muster. One foot in front of the other. Don’t look back. Don’t think about how good they smell. Don’t think about how much your omega wants to turn around and?—
I make it to my door and slip inside, closing it firmly behind me.
