“It’s bent,” Malik says tightly. “The track is completely?—”
“I don’t care,” Dax snarls. “Force it. She’s crying, and her nest is being destroyed, and I need this fucking window closed now.”
The raw alpha command in his voice makes all of us shiver. Malik doesn’t argue, just positions himself better and pulls.
“Three,” Dax counts. “Two. One.”
They heave together, and the window groans in protest. Metal screeches against metal. Then it slides down with a final shriek.
Closed.
The sudden silence is deafening. No more rain pouring in. No more wind.
But I’m still crying.
“Sierra,” Jalen says softly. His hand comes up to my face, thumb brushing away tears with a touch so gentle it makes me cry harder. “Hey. The window’s fixed. It’s okay now.”
“It’s not,” I sob. “Look at my nest. It’s destroyed. Everything’s wet and ruined, and I spent so long making it perfect, and?—”
My voice breaks on another sob.
All four alphas make sounds of distress. Actual whines that they can’t control.
“We’ll rebuild it,” Cole says urgently. His hand tightens on my arm. “Better than before. We’ll make it perfect again.”
“You can’t,” I cry. “Half the pillows are soaked, the sheets are ruined, the?—”
“We can,” Malik interrupts firmly. He’s moved away from the window now, crouching in front of me. His dark eyes are intense; his scent wrapping around me like a promise. “We’re going to fix this. All of it. But first—” He looks at Jalen. “—we need to get her off this wet floor.”
“Right,” Jalen says, but he doesn’t move. His arm is still around me, his other hand still on my face, and he seems physically incapable of letting go.
“I can stand,” I say, but even as I say it, another wave of heat crashes through me and I whimper.
Fresh slick pools between my thighs. The scent of it mixes with the thick honeycomb already saturating the air, and all four alphas react.
Dax’s fist tightens hard as he braces one hand against the wall. Malik’s jaw goes even tighter. Cole makes a sound that’s half-groan, half-growl. And Jalen’s arm around me tightens. He buries his face in my hair, breathing me in with a desperation that should probably scare me.
“Sorry,” I gasp. “I can’t—I don’t mean to?—”
“Don’t apologize,” Jalen says roughly. “Never apologize for your heat. This is natural. You’re perfect.”
The words send another shiver through me.
“Up,” Malik orders, his voice gentle despite the firmness. “Jalen, help her to the chair. Cole, start sorting the nest materials. Dax, you’re with me—we need fresh linens.”
They move like a coordinated unit, responding to Malik’s commands without question. Jalen carefully helps me stand, supporting most of my weight.
He guides me to the chair in the corner, and I sink into it gratefully. My hip throbs, and fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“I know this might seem ridiculous,” I say, wiping at my face. “It’s just a nest. I can rebuild it.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” Cole says sharply. He’s already at the bed, hands full of wet pillows. “You’re in heat, and you’re hurt, and your safe space got destroyed. Anyone would be upset.”
Dax appears with an armful of fresh sheets, Malik right behind him with more pillows. They don’t ask for direction. They just start rebuilding.
And I watch through tear-blurred eyes as all four of them work.
Dax strips the soaked bedding in a few swift motions, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, and the way a muscle keeps jumping in his clenched jaw.
