Chapter 56
fifty-six
brIAR
“You have to be kidding.”
Rhys stands at the kitchen island, wearing the form-fitting black tank top and joggers I love so much. He squints through his glasses, his sea-glass gaze suspicious as he examines the tube pinched between Dane’s thick fingers.
My formerly-masked alpha rolls his eyes, frowning. “It’s just a saliva swab. Don’t be a dick.”
“Rhys can’t help it,” Cillian chimes, striding in from the detached garage. Just as he has every day for the last two weeks, the moment he sees me, the pack alpha lifts me into a twirl. Just one—and only because he knows I’ll giggle as he kisses me.
Cillian sets me on the counter as I laugh breathlessly. My robe slides under my thighs, the cool fabric sending tingles to my core. It’s not a bad sensation, but the accompanying whirl of anxiety isn’t my favorite.
Still, I know what this is… and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
My husband cups my face in his hand and scent-marks me thoroughly before sliding a sardonic glance to his packmates—particularly his former stepbrother. “I’m pretty sure Dick will be the primary result on Rhys’s DNA test,” he mutters. “Right above Arrogant Ass.”
I slant a teasing glower at my husband. “I thought you and Rhys weren’t really related? How would you share DNA?”
Rhys barks a hard laugh while Dane chuckles. Cillian’s eyes gleam, the hand at my hip sliding up to tickle my side. I squawk as he smirks. “And I suppose your top result will be Brat, Mrs. Blackwood?”
I snort. “Don’t be silly. I’m not related to Rhys, either.”
“That’s it,” my blond alpha decides, abandoning the kit to haul me over his shoulder. “I’m getting my belt.”
I shriek a laugh, but Dane easily plucks me into his arms, bridal-style. He nestles my body against his wide chest and the soft cotton T-shirt stretched over his scarred pecs. “Like hell you will,” he grunts at Rhys. “This is my night.”
“You have her every morning,” the venomous alpha whines. “I was working all day. You know, making sure none of us go to prison?”
I’ve learned that Rhys does, in fact, use his law degree to keep the pack out of trouble. He reviews any and all written correspondence, contracts, their bank accounts, and taxes; all to keep them squeaky clean.
Aside from their makeshift interrogation dungeon in the basement under the garage.
But, hey. Nobody’s perfect.
My alphas are pretty damn close, though.
When the most minor pre-heat symptoms started this morning, I think Dane could sense my mounting anxiety.
Getting this DNA kit for tonight was his idea—a way to keep my mind occupied.
And Rhys was the one who suggested we ditch our usual dining-room dinner in favor of every type of takeout I could think of.
Cillian eyes the three of us, finally noticing our clothes. His dark brow rises as he pins me in place with his beautiful blue eyes. “Casual Friday, Mrs. Blackwood?”
I suppose it is. I’ve been playing dress-up for dinner every evening since he revealed the closet full of amazing clothes he had made for me. On “his” nights, my husband usually plans some excuse for us to go out—I suspect solely so I can show off my wardrobe.
My face heats under his knowing gaze. “Yeah, I, um…”
Dane folds me closer, purring as he rubs his beard along my temple in a scent-mark. “Briar’s pre-heat symptoms started today. She needs to take it easy.”
Cillian’s hand smooths my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. “Is this true?” he asks, eyes intent on mine. “Is it time for us to slow down and nest?”
I feel shy for some reason. That soul-deep yearning rears up—the fierce, unshakable desire to please this alpha and gain his approval. “Yes,” I whisper. “Is that okay?”
Cillian’s lips lift in a soft smile. “More than okay, rosebud. It’s perfect. I’m proud of you for telling us what you need.”
Dane nods, murmuring into my crown. “That will be your only job during your heat, little girl. We’ll take care of everything else.”
I believe him. Over the last few weeks, Dane has proven again and again that he’s an absolute rock.
It doesn’t matter how many times my Omega needs to be held or touched—he’s there.
Brushing my hair, massaging my feet, soaping my shoulders in the bathtub.
And he does everything with the kind of unhurried adoration I feel down to my bones.
Rhys and I like to tussle. Cillian gets off on his innate dominance. But Dane?
He really just wants to love me. And feel me love him back.
His posture’s been a little tense today, though. I suppose possibly because it really is his turn tonight—and he hasn’t knotted me yet.
Rhys hasn’t either; in fact, he refuses to until he feels he’s earned my forgiveness. I’ve tried to talk him out of his mate morality, but that usually just leads to us bickering… which typically ends with me riding his face or being choked by his cock.
My scent swells at the memories and each of my alphas reacts. Dane’s purr stutters as Rhys snarls under his breath. Cillian goes still, his gaze blazing hotter.
Smoky spice smothers me, along with the herbaceous blend of eucalyptus and oak.
All three rolled into one hits my bloodstream like a drug, shooting pure ecstasy through my entire body.
My lower abdomen clenches in an unfamiliar way, similar to the usual squelch that accompanies perfume but more. Deeper.
I understand why when my scent winds into theirs. The rich tartness seems darker and sweeter than ever before. Painfully so.
Oh. Fuck.
Pre-heat perfume. I’ve read about it, but wow. It’s strong. And pouring out of me along with slick that somehow feels… hot? Warmer than usual, for sure.
Everything happens so fast.
One second I’m in Dane’s arms, half-melted into his purr. The next I’m catching myself against the island, winded from the speed with which my feet find the floor.
I blink, dazed when I find Dane backing toward the French doors along the far wall of the kitchen. His golden gaze is wild, black pupils edging out all color while his chest heaves under his shirt.
Rhys crouches six feet away from him, down on his heels with his head bent over his lap and his eyes squeezed shut.
What the ever-loving—
Cillian looms the closest. He stands with his fingers curled around the other side of the island. Jaw clenched, eyes on fire. Not breathing.
Is it me?
It has to be, right? Because of my pre-heat perfume?
What is it doing to them? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were all about to snap into a—
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.
A rut.
Or three.
How is this even possible? I demand, frantically reaching for my Omega.
She’s frozen in my middle, just as stunned as I am. It—it isn’t supposed to be. Two alphas in a pack snapping into rut at the same time is rare enough, but never all of them.
Leave it to my monstrous mates to beat those odds.
Leave it to me to be absurdly flattered by that.
Lord. I guess we really are made for each other.
Dane scrambles backward, heavy boots scuffing the marble floor. He shakes his head in horror, but a feral snarl twists his lips. And when he speaks, it’s a barely restrained bark. “Leave us, omega.”
My body twitches, nearly launching into motion at his desperate plea. Cillian starts to lurch toward me, but catches himself, growling low in his throat as he closes his eyes.
Hell. He’s always the controlled one. If both he and Dane are out, that just leaves Rhys.
“Briar,” my blond mate groans, falling to his knees as he clutches his head in both hands. Panting over the pain of trying to suppress his urges. “You have to go, viper. Lock yourself in your nest.”
Their scents are so strong I can’t inhale properly. Dizziness muddles my mind, their words echoing in the chaos. Leave. Go.
Cillian loses his battle last. His pupils yawn, swallowing the icy blue. His voice drops far below his normal alpha register. Into a smoldering bark I can’t help but heed.
“Run.”