"I promise." Seth's voice catches slightly on the words—there's the Seth I know, the sweet anxious one hiding under all that deputy confidence. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to mine. "You're s-safe with us, Bea. Always."
The certainty in his voice—the complete lack of doubt—makes my chest ache.
"Besides," Grayson adds, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Can't wait to watch you have your wicked way with our shy deputy here. Pretty sure you're going to blow his mind."
"Grayson," Seth mutters, but there's no real heat in it.
Despite everything—the fear, the heat building under my skin, the desperation—I almost laugh.
"Okay," I breathe. "Okay."
"Good." Seth steps back, already pulling off his sweatshirt. "Now, do you want our scents in your nest?"
Yes. God, yes.
He hands me the gray sweatshirt—still warm from his body, saturated with his scent. I clutch it to my chest, breathing deep.
"Mine too." River is shrugging out of his flannel. Pine and sawdust cling to the fabric.
Grayson's leather jacket comes off. Ink and leather and spice, dark and perfect.
I take all three, arranging them carefully in the center of my nest where I'll sleep. Where we'll all sleep.
Their scents blend with mine until the room smells like pack. Like home.
The nest is perfect now. Blankets layered in concentric circles, soft against skin and weighted for security. Pillows forming protective walls. Their clothes scattered throughout—territory markers, scent claims, promises.
I sit back on my heels, surveying my work.
"It's beautiful," River says quietly.
"You're beautiful," Grayson corrects, looking at me instead of the nest.
Another wave hits—stronger, demanding. I whimper, wrapping my arms around myself.
"Come here." River's already moving toward me, hands gentle as he helps me to my feet. "Let's get you settled."
"We're right here," Seth adds softly. "Whatever you need."
Grayson's dark eyes track every tremor, every shiver. "Your heat's close. You can feel it."
I nod, unable to form words as another rush of heat floods through me. More slick, soaking through my underwear, sliding down my thighs. My skin feels like it's burning from the inside out.
"Then let's take care of our omega," River says, and the possessive certainty in his voice makes me whimper.
I look at my three alphas. My pack. Their scents are overwhelming—pine and sawdust, rain and cedar, ink and leather and spice—mixing with my desperate cinnamon-apple until the room is thick with need.
"I can't—" My voice breaks. "It's too much, I need?—"
"We know." Grayson's voice is dark, sure. "And we're going to give you everything."
The heat crashes over me again, harder this time, stealing my breath. My knees buckle.
Seth catches me. "I've got you."
They're already here. Already touching me. Already keeping their promise.
And god, I'm going to let them.
