But we can’t keep doing that.
Sierra needs to be knotted in succession. Needs to be filled and claimed and thoroughly satisfied until her heat breaks. And all four of us are so deep in rut now that holding back is becoming physically painful. My balls ache with it. Every breath I take is full of her scent, and it’s driving me insane.
Dax shifts, careful not to disturb Sierra. His scent is thick and possessive in the air, almost aggressive. “Who’s next?”
We’d agreed to follow her lead, let her choose who she reaches for when the waves hit. But Sierra’s too far gone in heat to make conscious choices anymore. She’s all instinct and neednow, reaching for whoever is closest when the desperation takes over.
So, we need to decide.
My throat feels tight. Dax knotted her first, grounding her when she was spiraling. Malik brought her down from that desperate edge this morning. Cole’s been the steady presence throughout, always there with water and gentle touches and firm commands when she needs them.
And me? I’ve been the one whispering soft words, stroking her hair, trying to keep her grounded when the heat threatens to pull her completely under. The support. The comfort.
But never the solution.
“I’ll do it,” I hear myself say.
Three pairs of eyes turn to me. Malik’s eyebrows rise slightly, surprise clear on his face. Cole looks considering, like he’s weighing whether I can handle it. Dax just nods slowly, like he’d expected this all along.
“You sure?” Cole asks, but there’s only concern in his voice. Not judgment.
Am I?
I’ve been hanging back this whole time, letting my brothers take the lead. But watching them with her, seeing them give Sierra what she needs while I stay on the sidelines, it’s killing me. My rut is demanding I take care of our omega, that I prove I can provide for her, that I show her she can trust me with her most vulnerable moments.
And maybe I need to prove it to myself, too.
“I’m sure,” I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel.
“Then we support,” Malik decides, already moving closer. “All of us together.”
Sierra’s eyes flutter open, but they’re not focused. They’re completely glazed, dark with heat. Just pools of black that don’t track anything, don’t see anything except what her heat-brain is telling her she needs.
She doesn’t speak. Just makes this desperate keening sound that goes straight through all of us like a knife.
Fuck.
Her whole body is trembling now. Not just small tremors but full shaking, like she’s fighting something inside herself and losing. Fresh slick pools between her thighs. I can see it darkening the sheets, and the scent of it hits me full-on. Sweet and desperate andmine.
My mouth waters. My cock throbs. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get closer, to touch her, to soothe her.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” I murmur, moving to settle beside her. My hands are still shaking as I reach out to touch her face. “We’re all right here.”
She doesn’t acknowledge my words. I don’t think she even hears them. Just keeps making those broken sounds.
This is it. The peak. When an omega is so deep in heat that language becomes impossible, that conscious thought dissolves into pure biological need.
SeeingSierralike this? It’s terrifying and beautiful and overwhelming all at once.
I stroke her face gently, letting her scent wash over me, trying to stay calm even though my rut is howling.
“I’m going to take care of you,” I tell her, even though I’m not sure she can understand. Even though I’m saying it as much for myself as for her. “Going to give you what you need, Sierra.”
Her eyes track toward my voice but don’t focus. She makes another high, desperate sound that raises every hair on my body, and her back arches off the bed.
Fuck.
My hands move to my shorts, fumbling with the waistband. I shed them, and my cock springs free, hard and heavy and already leaking. Sierra’s heat-glazed eyes drift down, tracking the movement, and she makes a sound that might be relief or need or both.
