“Dax?” She turns her head toward him, movement slow and dreamlike. “I... yes? I think?”
“That’s okay,” he soothes. “You don’t have to think right now. Just feel. Can you tell us how you’re feeling?”
Sierra’s quiet for a long moment, her brows furrowing like she’s trying to process the question through layers of cotton. “Sore,” she finally manages. “But... good sore? And... warm. Everything’s warm.”
“Where are you sore, omega?” I ask gently, because we need to know. Need to make sure we didn’t hurt her, that she’s okay.
“Everywhere,” she mumbles, then makes a small, distressed sound. “My hip. From... before? I fell.”
Fuck. We’d been so focused on her heat that I’d almost forgotten about her injury. The way she’d crumpled trying to close that window.
“Cole,” I whisper, and he’s already moving, carefully extracting himself from the nest.
“On it,” he says, heading to the kitchen.
“Let me see, sweetheart,” Dax says, gently shifting Sierra so he can examine her hip. She whimpers at the movement, not quite pain but definitely discomfort.
There’s a dark bruise. Not as bad as it could be, but definitely not good either.
“We need to keep ice on this,” Dax says, his voice carrying that edge of concern.
“Hurts,” Sierra whimpers, and the sound goes straight through me.
“I know, omega,” I soothe, stroking her hair. “We’re going to take care of it. Going to take care of you.”
Cole returns with ice wrapped in a towel. “Here. This’ll help.”
Dax positions it carefully against her hip, and Sierra makes another small sound, but this one is relief.
“Better?” Jalen asks, propping himself up to see her face.
“Mm,” she hums, eyes already starting to drift closed again. “You keep... taking care of me.”
“Always,” I promise, and mean it more than I’ve meant anything. “That’s what we’re here for.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then her scent shifts slightly. Sweetens. “Need you,” she mumbles, the words slurred. “All of you. Alpha.”
The way she says it… ‘alpha’, singular, like we’re one entity… It makes my chest tight.
“We’re right here,” Cole assures her. “Not going anywhere.”
“No, I mean...” She shifts restlessly, a flush spreading across her cheeks. Even through the heat-haze, there’s embarrassment there. “I need... my heat’s...”
Her scent spikes sharply, honeycomb going thick and heady. Fresh slick pools between her thighs, and she makes a desperate little sound.
“Building again,” I finish for her, because she’s too far gone to articulate it properly. “We can smell it, omega. We know.”
“Please,” she whimpers, reaching for me with clumsy hands. “Please, it hurts. Make it stop hurting.”
“Shhh, we will,” I promise. “But first, you need to eat something.”
“Don’t want food,” she protests, but her voice is weak. “Want you.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Dax says gently, “but your body needs fuel. You’ve been burning through so much energy.”
Jalen’s already hopping out of bed. He returns with a breakfastplate filled with toast and fruit. “Just a few bites,” he coaxes. “Can you do that for us?”
Sierra makes a frustrated sound, but when Jalen holds a piece of toast to her lips, she takes it. Chews mechanically, like she’s going through the motions without really tasting it.
