“Fuck.” Jamie’s eyes widen.
My eyes bounce between the three of them, probably looking like a cornered animal to them right now.
Alaric crouches down, keeping his distance. “Hey, baby. Are you going into heat?”
I lick my lips, my heart pounding in my chest. I manage to get a nod out. It’s been a long time since I felt so out of control, so out of reality. I don’t feel like me. I feel vulnerable and needy. All I want is my alphas to come cuddle me, kiss me, fuck me. I want them so bad.
Yet, I sit here frozen in fear, terrified because of my past.
“It’s going to be okay. Has it been awhile since you’ve had a heat?” he asks.
I nod again.
“What do you normally do for your heats? We can do our best to make it how you’re used to,” Tatum says, crouching down like Alaric.
A little sob slips free. I can tell my scent is driving them crazy, that they want me just as much as I want them based on the alpha pheromones that have me begging to give in.
But they’re not coming near me, keeping a distance, respecting my boundaries. Proving I have nothing to fear.
When Jamie does the same as the other two, the three of them sit on the floor and wait for me to talk.
I can do this. I can do this.
“I’ve always done my heats alone,” I manage to whisper out.
“You’ve never had alphas to help you through your heat?” Alaric asks.
“No.” I shake my head, swallowing hard.
“Why not?” Jamie asks softly.
“I’ve never trusted them.” My eyes drop, unable to look at them in the eye.
“Why?” Tatum asks.
“Because the idea of being so out of reality, not in control of my mind and body, only the frenzy of being fucked and knotted scares me. I don’t like being vulnerable with people I don’t know or trust. I don’t like giving someone the potential to have the upper hand and take advantage of me.”
The three of them look at one another, then back to me. “Do you mean Ralph?”
My eyes widen, breath knocked clean out of my lungs. They know? How the hell do they know?
“W-what do you mean?” I rush out.
“After the night of your father’s party, we went to our dads because we all had the same off-feeling about him,” Tatum says. “They showed us photos that had been taken years ago, back when you were around our age. Beckham, it looked like he was beating you. You looked terrified. Did Ralph use to beat you?”
My eyes well with tears. Closing my eyes, they fall as I nod my head.
“That motherfucker!” Alaric growls.
“Is that why you’re afraid? You think we’re going to hit you too?”
“No,” I croak out, huffing out a humourless laugh. “I don’t think you three would ever lay a hand on me like that.”
“Then what, baby? Why do you look at us like we’re going to hurt you?” Alaric asks, his voice calm and oddly soothing.
I swallow the lump in my throat, the words stuck on my tongue but I push forward. “Yes, he used to hit me. He thought he was shaping me into a better man because I refused to do what my father asked when it came to the family business. He said I was a weak, sorry excuse for a future leader of the mafia and I needed to be dealt with.” Shifting, I lower my arms from my legs and use my hands to pick at the blankets under me. “I didn’t care about the beatings. I would have taken them any day over…” I look down, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Over what?” Jamie pushes.
