"Good." Sergio rolls onto his back beside me. "We're just getting started."
"Getting started?" I stare at him. "That felt pretty comprehensive."
"That was round one." He turns his head and meets my eyes. "Heat lasts three days. And you have three more alphas waiting their turn."
Three more alphas. Three more days. An endless marathon of pleasure and connection and everything I've been denying myself for years.
"Oh." I blink at the ceiling. "That's... a lot of sex."
"Scared?"
"Terrified." I grin despite myself. "But also kind of excited? Is that weird?"
"It's perfect." Sergio pulls me against his chest. "You're perfect."
The door opens. Nacho returns with water and crackers. Carlos follows with a chocolate bar that he definitely stole from Pedro's secret stash.
My pack. My alphas. My future.
The heat simmers in my blood, already building toward the next wave.
I drink the water, eat the crackers, and prepare for round two.
34
PEDRO
The bedroom smells like sex and sweat and something sweeter underneath.
I check my watch. Six AM. Eighteen hours since her heat began.
Jessica sleeps in the center of her nest, surrounded by rumpled blankets and discarded pillows. Her blonde hair fans across the sheets in tangled waves. Her skin is flushed pink, damp with perspiration. Bite marks bloom across her shoulders and breasts, purple and red against the pale canvas of her body.
My brothers left those marks. I'll add my own soon enough.
She's beautiful like this. Wrecked and satisfied and finally at peace. The frantic desperation of the first wave has faded, replaced by the deep exhaustion that comes between cycles. Her breathing is slow and even. Her pulse, when I press two fingers to her wrist, beats steady and strong.
Healthy. Safe. Ours.
I release her wrist and sink into the armchair by the window. The morning light is grey and soft, filtering through curtains that haven't been opened in over a day. The room is warm, too warm, but omegas in heat run hot and cold unpredictably. We've been adjusting the thermostat every few hours.
Sergio took her first. Then Nacho, when the second wave hit around midnight. Carlos handled the third, somewhere around three AM, his laughter echoing through the house as he coaxed her through another orgasm with gentle teasing.
My turn is coming. I can feel it building, the tension coiling tighter in my gut with every passing minute. The scent of her arousal is making it hard to think. Hard to maintain the clinical detachment I've relied on my entire adult life.
I'm a doctor. I've treated heat patients before. Administered suppressants, monitored vital signs, counseled frightened omegas through their first experiences. I've always been professional. Detached. The grumpy EMT who didn't let emotions interfere with medical care.
This is different.
This is Jessica.
She stirs in her sleep, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Her thighs press together, seeking friction. The sweet scent in the room intensifies.
The next wave is coming.
I push myself out of the chair and cross to the door. Crack it open. Call down the hallway in a low voice.
"It's starting again."
