Chapter 35 Rose
Rose
When Wyatt and Kai find me, I’m working in the Café on my laptop, doing some marketing for a little bookstore in Traverse City.
I like to work here when it’s not super busy and I just need to get out of the house—and after what happened this morning with Wyatt and Kai, I definitely needed a breather.
It had been perfect. Everything I’ve ever wanted with Kai.
Everything I’d already fantasized about with Wyatt.
Both of them together—perfection. Even though they seemed tentative with each other.
I’d assumed they were a couple when we first met from the furtive glances they’d shared, but from our aftercare conversation—when we woke up and they decided to give me all the cuddles and a slow, sensuous rubdown.
But they’re not. It’s new for them, which is kind of a relief.
I’m not the only one out of my depth here.
My scent is the biggest shock. Clara’s not in today, which sucks because I was really hoping to talk to someone about all of this when I came here.
I’m mid-email when the door bursts open—Wyatt and Kai stepping through. When they spot me, the looks on their faces have me closing my laptop as my heart races.
“What’s wrong?” I ask automatically.
They glance at each other. “It’s Harlan—” Kai begins. My heart sinks to my stomach.
“Oh god. Did my father get to him? The Blackbeard Pack? Is he okay?” My words tumble out in a jumbled mess.
Wyatt pulls me toward him and begins purring. It eases my anxiety only slightly. “No, he’s fine, sweet girl. He’s just…” He trails off, looking around, but this is the off-season and the Café is empty.
“He’s gone into rut,” Kai interjects.
I gape. “Rut? Why?”
“Your scent, Sugarplum. He came home, scented you, and immediately flew into a rut. Logan and Evander are taking the edge off, but we came to warn you—and maybe take you away for a while.”
I take a small step back from Wyatt’s embrace, looking up at him. “I’m not leaving him if he needs me.”
Kai’s eyes are soft and pleading. “Rosie, he’s deep in rut. Not in his right mind at all. I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle him, and if he hurt you, it would kill him. He’s the dominant alpha. No one will be able to temper him.”
I level him with all the confidence and dominance I can muster, trying to channel Sunny. “If I am your omega, I can handle it.” The words come out with far more authority than I feel, but omegas are traditionally deferred to in interrelational matters of the pack.
Kai hangs his head dramatically and then leans down to kiss me. “As you wish,” he whispers.
Despite my confident words, the walk back to the house is nerve-racking. My hands shake and I’m sure I’m pumping stress hormones into the air. Bitter peppermint. That’s not a great way to meet an alpha in rut.
Wyatt stops me with a hand at the small of my back. “You sure, Sugarplum? Evander and Logan can handle him. They likely already have.”
That image sends a beat of warmth from my center to my core, slicking my panties. They must scent it, because Wyatt goes rigid as though he’s trying to hold himself back, and Kai moans, running a hand through his floppy black hair.
“I’m sure. If he doesn’t need me anymore that’s fine, but I couldn’t leave him if he needed me. Would you both have left me this morning?” I ask.
Wyatt pulls me to him roughly by my hips, and Kai’s broader chest cages me from behind. I’m trapped between two slabs of alpha muscle. “Never,” Kai assures me as Wyatt tilts my face back with his thumb and nuzzles the pulse point under my chin.
I allow myself this steadying moment between what has become my comfort zone before extricating myself to step into what’s next. I want the other three alphas to be part of this too. I can’t abandon one when it gets hard.
I open the door.
The sight that greets me is some kind of panty-melting wet dream—something my overstressed mind must have created to cope. My omega has lost it and is making things up.
All explanations seem more plausible than the idea that the three muscled alphas are covered in sweat and cum, piled one on top of the other on my living room floor. I couldn’t stop the sharp, needy, aroused-as-fuck omega whine if my entire life depended on it.
Their scents are what I imagine heaven would smell like. All pine and wine and caramel. I could live in these scents, especially melded together like this. I can't stop the perfume that rises in me and the slick that pools at my center.
Harlan growls deep before cutting himself off. His alpha is still there, beneath the surface, but I can see the brown of his eyes and its clear the thorough fucking has taken the edge off. They extricate from each other and I cannot look away. It’s like the hottest reverse porn I’ve ever seen.
Evander of all people saunters up to me and tips my mouth closed with the pad of his finger. “Next time I expect you under me for that,” he whispers in my ear, voice husky as though he’s been shouting. Slick absolutely decimates my panties.
Logan is hustling Harlan to the bathroom and closes the door behind him, but as he does I catch the tail end of Harlan’s scent.
It’s still full of arousal and dominant alpha pheromones.
Still on the edge of rut. My knees feel weak and I nearly choke on my next breath—the need to call out to him is so great.
The need to get down in the mess they’ve made and present.
When Logan turns he catches my eye and smirks.
His confident gait is so unlike the man I’ve mostly dealt with up until now.
He's cocky instead of the slumped and brooding figure I’ve seen before.
I imagine I’m likely looking at the man Logan was before everything happened with the omega clause.
His hooded eyes rake over my body as though he too isn’t satisfied by what he shared with the others. That he needs this as well.
His pupils are large, but when he reaches me he simply leans down and scent-marks my cheek.
Then he turns and whispers, “You’ve always been perfect, omega.
You fixed us when we were broken and lost, and when Kai and Wyatt couldn’t even admit what they were.
You’re making this pack whole again. You never needed a scent. We always knew you were ours.”
He takes a beat and lays a soft kiss across my lips. “But I also want you to know that I could come on air from that scent.”
A shiver works its way up my spine and tears prick the corners of my eyes. I’m theirs. The words I’ve been needing sink deep into my soul.
A low alpha growl breaks through the bathroom door, rattling it on its hinges.
“He’s in rut, Candy. We should go if you don’t plan on being fucked into the bathroom floor,” Evander jokes—but it’s not a joke to me or my omega. She practically swoons, and hot electricity feels like it’s zipping up my spine.
It’s only the second time it’s happened, so when I perfume that peppermint scent everywhere I blush. Evander smirks. Kai’s eyes widen.
“Or not,” Logan chuckles.
“Sparkles,” Evander says, cocking his head at me. "It's the safe word. He had his alpha trained to obey it even in the middle of an alpha rut."
This pulls me up short. Training your alpha for a safe word is difficult and somewhat dangerous. Only a small fraction of alphas who attempt it are successful. It has me wondering exactly what I'll experience with Harlan. Anticipation courses through me.
I walk toward the bathroom door and no one stops me. Steam drifts around me as I slip through.
There’s a sink, toilet, and one standing shower that takes up the far wall.
It’s not enormous, but it can definitely fit two people.
Harlan is facing away from me, one arm over his head braced against the wall.
The muscles of his back ripple and shift, and I realize it’s because his other hand is between his thighs, jerking in smooth, fast motions.
I know the moment he scents me because he stills.
Slowly, he turns, and my muscles lock up.
He’s a predator right now, and I’m his prey.
Slick coats my thighs at the thought. His gaze drags down my body, lingering, and I can almost feel his eyes on my slick, swollen pussy before they trail back up to meet my eyes.
“Starlight, it’s not safe for you here,” he growls—and it feels like he’s ripping the words out of his very soul to give them to me.
“Do you want me to leave?” I ask.
His dark eyes shutter before he shakes his head.
With great care, I strip off my clothes.
His gaze is a physical touch. When he turns fully, I see him—oh holy night, his cock is long, hard, and thick.
His body is all stacked muscle, corded arms, carved abs, raw power.
He never lets go of himself, stroking as he watches me.
His other hand grips the tile wall with such force I’m surprised it doesn’t crack.
Once I’m fully naked, I walk toward him slowly. He won’t hurt me. He’s always been my protector. From the very beginning.
As I step into the spray, the cold water slices through my overheated skin and I yelp. He immediately reaches for the knob, twisting it until the temperature rises to a bearable warmth.
“I’ve seen what you can do when you’re unrestrained with people you’re comfortable with. I want that,” I tell him, daring. “I don’t want gentle, Harlan, I—”
A squeal rips from me as he spins me around, pressing my front to the tile and his chest to my back. His cock drags against my outer lips, sliding along my clit. I mewl, filthy and desperate.
“You want to give me that kind of trust? Then give it to me now. You’re the girl in the garden, aren’t you?” His voice is a rough-edged growl, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. He's clearly holding the rut at bay since he can talk but barely.
My heart stutters. I knew he might remember, but I hadn’t known how to broach it—the fact that we’d met before, years ago.
“I—” I stutter, hesitating.