Pack.
Silas's knot pulsed inside me, keeping us locked together, keeping me full. His lips pressed against my shoulder in something that might have been a kiss or might have been a prayer, soft and reverent, lingering against my skin.
"Rest," he murmured against my skin, echoing Harper's earlier words, his voice barely audible, still rough from everything we'd shared. "There's more coming. Rest while you can."
I closed my eyes and let myself drift, surrounded by my Alphas, full and sated and loved.
The heat would return. But for now, this was enough.
For now, this was everything.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Artemis
Iknew the moment it ended.
Not because the need disappeared—it didn't, not entirely. But the fever that had been burning through my veins for what felt like an eternity finally, finally began to cool. The desperate, clawing emptiness that had consumed me for days softened into something gentler. Something manageable.
I was lying in the nest—if you could still call it a nest. What had started as a carefully constructed haven of soft blankets and their clothes was now a disaster zone of tangled sheets, damp fabric, and the overwhelming scent of sex. I should have been disgusted. Instead, I felt like I was floating in a cloud made of everything I'd ever wanted.
"It's breaking," I murmured, my voice barely a rasp. How much had I screamed over the past three days? My throat felt like I'd swallowed broken glass. Harper was there immediately, his massive body curling around mine, one hand coming up to brush sweat-damp hair from my forehead. His gray eyessearched my face, concerned and tender and so full of love it made my chest ache.
"You sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest and into my back, his palm pressing flat against my forehead to check for fever. His brow furrowed slightly as he assessed my temperature. "How do you feel?"
"Tired," I admitted, and the word didn't even begin to cover it. I was wrung out, hollowed out, every muscle in my body aching in ways I hadn't known muscles could ache. But beneath the exhaustion was something else—a bone-deep satisfaction, a contentment that seemed to radiate from my very core. "Good tired. The kind of tired where you know you've been... thoroughly taken care of."
A low chuckle came from somewhere to my left, and I turned my head to find Remy sprawled beside me, his amber eyes soft with exhaustion and something that looked like wonder. His hair was a disaster, his jaw shadowed with days of stubble, and there were scratch marks down his chest that I vaguely remembered putting there.
"Thoroughly is one word for it, chere," he said, his voice hoarse and ragged from days of groaning and growling, his dimple making a weak appearance despite his obvious exhaustion. He reached out to trace his fingers down my arm, the touch gentle and grounding. "Think we broke a few records."
"Think we broke the bed," Silas added quietly from my other side, his pale eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but there was a softness there I'd never seen before—like the heat had burned away some of the walls he kept around himself. His scarred hand found mine, fingers lacing together with a tenderness that made my heart squeeze. "One of the slats cracked sometime on day two."
I laughed—or tried to. What came out was more of a wheeze, but it made all three of them smile, and that was worth the pain in my throat.
"Water," Harper said, already moving, reaching for the bottles on the nightstand with the efficiency of a man who'd been doing this for three days straight. He helped me sit up, supporting my weight against his chest when my arms trembled too much to hold myself. The water was room temperature and tasted like heaven, soothing my raw throat with every careful sip.
"Small sips," Silas reminded me, his thumb stroking over my knuckles in a slow, soothing rhythm, his pale eyes watching my throat work as I swallowed. "Don't want to make yourself sick." I drank until Harper gently pulled the bottle away, setting it aside and adjusting me more comfortably against him. My body felt like it was made of overcooked noodles—limp and useless and somehow still sensitive. Every brush of skin against skin sent little aftershocks of pleasure through my nerve endings.
"Food next," Remy announced, already pushing himself up with a groan that spoke to his own exhaustion, his muscles protesting visibly as he moved. "I'll heat up some soup. Need to get something in you that isn't—" He cut himself off, a wicked grin spreading across his face despite the shadows under his eyes.
"Don't," Harper warned, though there was no heat in it, just tired affection coloring his voice.
"Wasn't going to say anything," Remy said innocently, his eyes dancing with mischief even through his exhaustion, one eyebrow raised in mock offense. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment, before sliding off the bed and swaying slightly on his feet. "Be right back, chere."
I watched him go, then let my head fall back against Harper's chest. His heart beat steady and strong beneath my ear, arhythm I'd memorized over the past three days. How many times had I fallen asleep to that sound, his knot still locked inside me, his arms holding me safe?
"Bath," Harper said, his voice rumbling through his chest, his hand coming up to stroke my hair with absent tenderness. "You need to get clean, and the hot water will help with the soreness."
"I don't think I can stand," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment despite everything we'd done together.
"Wasn't planning on making you," he said simply, and before I could respond, he was shifting, moving, lifting me in his arms like I weighed nothing. My squeak of surprise made Silas's lips twitch in what might have been a smile.
"Harper—"
"Hush." He settled me more securely against his chest, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back, holding me like something precious. "Let me take care of you. That's what Alphas do."
My omega purred at the words—a weak, thready sound that rumbled in my chest despite my exhaustion. Harper's answering croon was low and soothing, a sound I'd heard constantly over the past three days, and my body relaxed instinctively at the comfort of it. He carried me out of the bedroom, and I got my first look at the rest of the house since the heat had started. The living room was... a disaster. Empty water bottles littered the coffee table, protein bar wrappers scattered across the floor, and there was a very disgruntled-looking alligator taking up most of the couch.
