Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Artemis
Iknew it was coming before I even opened my eyes Thursday morning.
The fever had started sometime in the night—a low, persistent warmth that had nothing to do with the Louisiana humidity.
My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, the cotton sheets almost unbearable against my bare legs.
Every thread scraped against my nerve endings like sandpaper wrapped in silk, making me hyperaware of every point of contact.
Even the weight of my own hair against my neck felt like too much.
Pre-heat.
I lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, taking inventory.
The slight ache in my lower belly—a deep, pulsing emptiness that demanded to be filled.
The way my nipples had tightened against my tank top, so sensitive that even the soft fabric felt like a tease.
The slick—just a hint of it, but unmistakable—gathering between my thighs, my body preparing itself for something it desperately wanted.
My heat was coming. Maybe two days out, maybe less. My body had always run like clockwork, every three months without fail, but this felt... different. Faster. More intense. Like something had triggered it early.
Or someone. Three someones.
I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, watching stars burst behind my eyelids.
Of course my body had decided now was the perfect time.
I'd just started officially courting three Alphas.
We'd barely had a week of this—the gifts, the scent-marking, the slow building of something real.
My heat wasn't supposed to hit for another three weeks.
Biology didn't care about timelines. And apparently, being surrounded by three compatible Alphas had kicked my cycle into overdrive.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom, my legs unsteady beneath me, every step making me aware of the slickness between my thighs.
I splashed cold water on my face, gasping at the shock of it against my overheated skin.
The mirror showed me flushed cheeks, too-bright eyes that seemed to glow with something feral, lips that looked swollen even though no one had kissed me yet today.
I looked like I was already in the thick of it.
The nest called to me.
The pull was almost physical—a hook behind my sternum, tugging me toward the bedroom.
I'd been building the nest for days without really thinking about it, my instincts driving me to gather and arrange and perfect.
Harper's flannel from the back of a chair.
Remy's shirt from where he'd left it after the courtship talk.
The hoodie Silas had forgotten, still carrying his scent of rain and ozone.
The nest was a mountain of soft things now, all of it drenched in their combined scents. Pine, woodsmoke and moonshine. Honey and whiskey. Ozone and cold steel. And underneath it all, my own apple cider, sharpening into something sweeter, headier, more desperate.
I crawled into the center of it and let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a keen—a helpless, needy noise that I couldn't have stopped if I tried.
The scents wrapped around me like arms, like bodies, like the promise of everything I wanted.
Better. This was better. Surrounded by them even when they weren't here.
My phone buzzed, and I fumbled for it with trembling fingers.
Harper: Coming over tonight. All three of us. Dinner.
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen, my heart pounding against my ribs.
They'd know the second they walked in. There was no hiding this—my scent would give me away immediately.
The whole cabin probably smelled like an omega on the edge of heat, sweet and desperate and wanting.
Me: I need to talk to you. All of you. Before anything else.
The three dots appeared immediately, and I held my breath.
Harper: What's wrong?
Me: Nothing's wrong. Just... we need to have a conversation. An important one.
A pause that felt like an eternity. Then:
Harper: We'll be there at six.
I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself and failing miserably.
I did readings at Magnolia's—badly, my concentration shot to hell, the cards blurring before my eyes—and came home early when Miss Delphine took one look at me and said, "Chere, you need to go home and let those Alphas of yours take care of you.
" Her knowing smile made my cheeks burn even hotter than the fever already had.
Was it that obvious?
By five-thirty, I'd showered twice, changed clothes three times as nothing felt right, everything either too rough or too tight or not enough, and rearranged the nest four times.
The fever was climbing steadily, my skin prickling with heat that had nothing to do with the temperature.
Every time I moved, I felt the slick between my thighs, my body preparing for something it desperately wanted.
Gumbo had positioned himself near the bedroom door, his massive body blocking the entrance like a nine-foot scaly sentinel.
He'd been watching me all day with those yellow eyes, his tail twitching every time I made a sound that was too close to a whine.
He knew. Of course he knew. He'd seen me through heats before.
"I'm fine," I told him, even though we both knew I was lying. He rumbled low in his throat—not quite a growl, more like a warning. A promise. Those males better behave themselves, or they'd answer to him.
The sound of tires on gravel made my heart slam against my ribs so hard I could feel my pulse in my throat, my wrists, between my legs.
They were here.
I made myself walk to the front door instead of running.
Made myself take a breath before I opened it, even though my lungs felt too tight for air.
Made myself act like a rational adult omega who had her shit together and wasn't currently fantasizing about being pinned down and filled until she couldn't remember her own name—
The door swung open, and three Alpha scents hit me like a physical blow.
All three of them went rigid on the porch.
Harper's nostrils flared wide, his gray eyes going dark and focused, the pupils swallowing the iris until they were nearly black.
A low rumble started in his chest—not quite a growl, something deeper, more primal.
His massive hands curled into fists at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me.
Remy's pupils blew wide, his charming smile freezing on his face and then melting into something raw and hungry. His scent sharpened—honey and whiskey intensifying until I could taste it on my tongue. A sound escaped him, something between a groan and a growl.
Silas made a sound low in his chest—a rumble that vibrated through the humid air between us and settled somewhere deep in my belly. His pale eyes burned with an intensity that made my knees want to buckle. His scarred fingers twitched at his sides.
"Artemis." Harper's voice was rough, strained, like he was holding himself back by sheer force of will, every word costing him. "You're—"
"Pre-heat," I finished for him, stepping back to let them in, my voice coming out breathier than I intended. "Started this morning. I know. That's what we need to talk about."
They filed in slowly, carefully, their movements controlled in a way that screamed barely-leashed restraint.
Like they were approaching a wild animal.
Which, honestly, wasn't far off—I could feel my instincts clawing at the inside of my skin, demanding that I bare my throat, that I present, that I let them take care of me.
Not yet. Conversation first. Even if it killed me.
"Sit," I said, gesturing toward the living room, proud of how steady my voice came out even as my thighs pressed together involuntarily. "Please."
They sat. All three of them on my couch, big Alpha bodies crammed together, watching me with barely-controlled hunger that made the air feel thick and charged.
The room filled with the heavy, intoxicating scent of aroused Alphas mixing with my own sweetening scent.
It was almost overwhelming—pine and honey and ozone and moonshine and want, so much want it made my head spin.
I stayed standing, arms crossed over my chest to hide the way my nipples had hardened into aching points, trying to project confidence I didn't entirely feel. "My heat is going to hit in the next day or two. Maybe sooner. Being around you three seems to have... accelerated things."
"We can leave." Silas's voice was quiet, clipped, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his scarred fingers were gripping his knees hard enough to turn his knuckles white. His jaw was tight, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. "If you need us to go—"
"No." The word came out sharper than I intended, almost a growl.
"That's not—I don't want you to leave. That's the opposite of what I want.
" Something shifted in the room. All three of them leaned forward slightly, instinctively, responding to my tone like it had tugged on invisible strings connecting us.
"I want you here," I continued, forcing myself to hold their gazes even as heat flooded my cheeks, my chest, lower.
"I want you to spend my heat with me. All three of you.
" Remy made a choked sound, his hand flying to his chest like I'd hit him.
Harper's hands curled into fists on his thighs, the tendons standing out in sharp relief.
Silas just stared at me with those pale eyes, burning into me.
"But," I said, holding up a finger, my hand trembling slightly, "we need to talk about boundaries first. Rules."
"Whatever you need." Harper's voice was a low rasp, barely controlled, each word ground out like it cost him everything to speak instead of act. "Name it."