Five more days of burning alive from the inside out. Of producing more slick than should be physically possible. Of whimpering into my pillows while thunder hides the sounds. Of using toys that don’t work because they’re not what my body is demanding.
I can’t do it.
The admission makes me want to cry. I can’t throw myself at the mercy of the four alphas trapped with me here. When this is all over, then what? How will I even be able to face them in public?
But what’s the alternative? Suffer for five more days? Potentially hurt myself trying to force relief that won’t come?
Pride is one thing. Self-destruction is another.
I turn off the water with shaking hands and grab a towel. My skin is pruned from the extended shower, but I’m stillburning up. Still aching. Still producing slick like my body is trying to advertise my availability to every alpha within a mile radius.
The walk back to my nest room feels like a marathon. Every step sends another wave of need through me. By the time I collapse back into my nest, I’m whimpering again.
The scent of my own slick is overwhelming. The sheets are going to need to be changed. Again. I went through the first set in twelve hours.
I bury my face in one of the pillows and let myself whimper properly. No holding back. No trying to stay quiet.
Thunder crashes overhead, hiding the sound of my misery.
But it can’t hide the scent. Can’t hide the pheromones pouring off me, advertising my heat to the entire house.
Cole
I’m trying so hard to keep things light.
“Okay, okay,” I say, shuffling the deck of cards for what feels like the hundredth time. “New game. Texas Hold’em. Winner gets to—I don’t know—not lose their mind for the next hour?”
Dax doesn’t even look at me. He’s pacing again, wearing a path in the kitchen floor that’s probably going to need refinishing after this week. His sugary scent is so thick and aggressive it makes my eyes water.
Jalen is sitting at the table, but he’s not really here. His eyes are distant, focused on something none of us can see. Probably logging every sound from down the hall, because that’s what Jalen does. He notices things.
And right now, there’s a lot to notice.
Sierra’s heat scent has completely saturated the house. So sweet and potent that every breath feels like I’m mainlining pheromones directly into my bloodstream. My rut is respondingwith aggressive enthusiasm, making my cock hard and my knot swell at the most inconvenient times.
Like right now.
I shift in my chair, trying to adjust myself discreetly, but Jalen’s eyes flick to me and I know he noticed. Of course, he did.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It’s just... fuck, can you smell that?”
“We can all smell it,” Dax growls, still pacing. “We’ve been smelling it for twenty-four hours.”
Thunder crashes outside, and underneath it?—
A whimper.
We all freeze.
It’s faint, muffled by distance and walls and probably Sierra’s attempts to stay quiet. But it’s there. Unmistakable.
My knot swells so fast it’s painful. I grip the edge of the table and try to breathe through it.
“She’s hurting,” Dax says, voice rough. He’s stopped pacing, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We can hear her hurting, and we’re just sitting here.”
“What do you want us to do?” I ask, but it comes out sharp. “Barge into her room? You can’t just barge into an omega’s nest unless they ask you to.”
“Maybe she won’t ask,” Dax snaps back. “Maybe she’s too proud or too stubborn or too?—”
