14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Adrian
M ira finally dozes in my arms, her small frame weightless against my chest. Three orgasms have temporarily eased her heat symptoms, but the cost is evident in her exhaustion. Her body, already weakened by malnutrition, simply doesn't have the reserves to handle her heat. I count every rib under my fingers, the protrusion of her shoulder blades sharp against my chest.
“Look at these,” I murmur to Zane, my fingers ghosting over numerous scars on her thighs. “These aren't recent. These are years old.”
Zane's face darkens as he catalogs the marks. “They aren't random either. They look systematic. Calculated. ”
The scars on her body tell a story of methodical abuse. Not the chaotic marks of random violence, but something far more sinister.
“Who would do this to an omega?” I voice the question quietly, though we both accept there won't be answers tonight. “Someone wanted to make it hurt.”
Could someone at Haven have done this? Surely not. Omegas are cherished in that environment. Was it someone from that hideous building we rescued her from? My blood boils at the thought of anyone wanting to harm Mira.
“And make it last.” Zane's scent spikes with rage as he points out faint dents around her wrists. “These are from restraints. She was held down, Adrian. Bound and...” He can't finish.
I close my eyes against the fury threatening to overwhelm me. Our omega, bound and hurt by someone who took pleasure in causing pain. No wonder she flinches from our touch, expecting cruelty instead of kindness.
“Do you think she’ll tell us who did this to her?” Zane asks quietly.
“Would you?” I study her sleeping face, still tense even in rest. “After surviving whoever did this, would you trust strangers enough to tell that story? And alphas at that?”
The silence that follows is heavy with shared understanding. Whatever happened is not a story she's likely to share willingly.
“We'll have to earn her trust. However long it takes,” I say.
Zane is gentle as he adjusts the blanket over her thin frame. “And then?”
“And then we make the bastards pay.” The promise tastes like blood in my mouth. “Every single person who hurt her.”
She whimpers in her sleep, and immediately we both soften our scents, soothing her subconscious distress. The rage remains, banked but burning.
“Look at this nest,” Zane murmurs, fingers brushing one of the threadbare blankets. “She hid in here rather than use the nest room. These rags are all she trusts.”
I glance toward the closed double doors that lead to the proper nest room filled with soft things, comfort items. Everything an omega should have. Everything she's been denied. “She wouldn't even look at those doors. Wouldn't go near them.”
Zane drifts his hand over the worn fabric. “She's had these a long time. Her scent infuses them. They’re her security. This says more about what she's been through than any words can.”
“She needs them. We can't take them away, no matter how much we want to give her better,” I say.
“I'll try Cole again,” Zane says, rising carefully from the nest. “He needs to be here for this. She needs all of us.”
I agree. The empty space in our pack bond aches with his absence. Left alone with her, I study her sleeping face. Even in rest, there's tension around her eyes, her mouth. I fall into a light doze, understanding I’ll need my strength when she wakes up to take care of her heat. She’ll need my knot. My cock and I won’t deprive her of anything.
I jolt awake when Zane returns, his scent sharp with concern. “Cole's not answering. But I brought supplies.” He sets down a tray of water, juice, and light snacks, all easily digestible foods that won't overwhelm her system.
Mira stirs, her eyes fluttering open. They are hazy with exhaustion and lingering heat. She looks confused for a moment, disoriented, before tension creeps back into her frame.
“Here, Little One,” I murmur, helping her sit up. She's so light, so fragile in my arms. “Time to eat and build your strength.”
“I can do it.” She pushes my hands away and I have to keep myself in check as she struggles to sit. She tucks the frayed edges of her blanket over her shoulders and slumps against the wall when she finally makes it upright.
I lift a cup of water to her lips, but she takes it from my grasp before I can feed her. Her hands shake so badly she can barely grip the cup and water sloshes over the rim. She goes rigid, her large eyes zooming in on my face. I’m careful to make a soft smile. The wariness in her expression shatters my heart. “Small sips,” I murmur, helping her hold the glass steady. “That's it, Little One. ”
She only takes another small mouthful and pushes the glass away. “That’s enough…Thank you.”
She hasn’t drunk enough for my liking, but I don’t push. She eyes the tray of food Zane brought in but makes no move to take any of it.
“All of this is for you,” Zane says softly, offering a piece of cheese. “Here. Eat. You need your strength.”
“I...” Her voice is rough, and she holds out a hand to fend him away. “I can't pay for—”
“You’ll never pay for anything again,” I cut her off gently, rage burning in my gut at the implication of her words.
She takes the cheese Zane pushes into her fingers and holds it instead of eating like she's expecting a trick. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
I want to rage at the universe. Rip the people to shreds who made her question something as simple as food when it’s given. Thankfully, Zane steps in because my words are stuck in my throat.
“Because you're ours to care for,” Zane answers, though we all know she's not ready to accept that truth. “Please, just a few more bites, Baby Girl.”
She nibbles the small block of cheese as though she’s forcing herself to take small bites. Making it last . “I’ll pay you back. I don’t expect anything for nothing, and I don’t like owing people.”
She’s so pale. Weak and in pain. My heart twists in my chest, wanting so much more for her than this perpetual state of fear. “You don’t owe us anything. It’s our honor for you to be here.”
She gives me a flat look before her gaze drops to the food again. She’s hungry, but she’s not taking what she clearly needs. I make the choice for her, offering her a half circle of pineapple. I hold the piece of fruit steady, waiting for her to accept it.
“The cheese is enough,” she says.
I hold in my growl. “It’s nowhere near enough. You can have anything from us you need. We’ll never deny you.” She must understand I’ll hand the world to her without her even asking. “Please, Little One. Please eat. We won’t make you pay. We expect nothing from you in return. We will never use anything we give you against you or as a bargaining tool.
She offers me a quick blink. She takes the pineapple and bites the end. When she finishes the pineapple, she reaches for a cracker, her gaze never leaving mine while she shoves all of it in her mouth, chews, and swallows too quickly. I watch her eat, not forcing, simply letting her take what she needs. She’ll learn that what we give her will never have limits or restrictions.
She manages another small piece of fruit, but her eyes grow heavy. “I don't understand. Alphas don't...”
“Alphas don’t what?” I prompt after her voice fades.
Her vivid gaze locks on my face. Confusion muddies the depths as a frown on her forehead deepens. “They don’t do…what you’re doing.”
“And what exactly am I doing?” I ask. I need to understand why she’s so wary. Why she doesn’t trust. I hold my breath, waiting for the answer so I can do something about it.
“I…” Panic washes over her features as a shiver wracks her frame. She groans and her scent blooms around us, pungent and ripe. She’s falling back into the clutches of her heat too quickly, but I need her to accept, before she grows insensible, that we’re not like other alphas who have damaged her so greatly.
“Whatever you were about to say, about what alphas don’t do, I want you to know that we do,” I tell her, gathering her closer as she starts to drift. “You’re a gift, Mira. The universe smiled down on us when she put you in our path. I know you don’t believe us yet, but we’ll prove it to you. Each and every day you bless us with your presence, we’ll show you how much we want you.”
“I…” Her body arches around another cramp and she succumbs back to the haze of her heat. It happens so fast. One moment she’s lucid and the next she’s sucked under by a gigantic wave. Her scent shifts from sweet need to something sharp. I hate that this is her first experience of a heat with us. The sudden, desperate thought hits me.
I want more than just one heat.
I want a lifetime to show her it won’t always be like this .
“Alpha,” she whimpers, but there's still that underlying tension, that inability to surrender. Her body is in heat, but her mind, her heart—her soul —isn’t. She maintains a wall between us and the division is tearing her apart.
“We're here, Omega. Always here. For you,” I soothe, running a gentle hand down her spine. She's burning up, skin shining with sweat and I damn Cole for not being here because she needs all of us so badly.
Her eyes, when they meet mine, are glazed and tight. “Hurts,” she manages. “Please...”
Her body is crying out for completion, for knots, for the full claiming her heat demands, but that wariness, that lingering tension... How do we give her what she craves without triggering more trauma? How do we help her through this while respecting her boundaries?
“She needs skin contact,” I murmur to Zane. “Our scents. Our touch.”
She also needs our knots. Desperately. But only if she asks and I’m not sure she will.
I hold her as Zane quickly undresses, his movements efficient, but as he tosses his clothes out of the closet, she reaches for them with a whimper. She grabs his shirt, burying her face in the material before tuning to weave his clothing into the nest of her blankets. Her movements are clumsy, heat-addled, but there's a desperation that hollows my gut.
“She’s going to need yours, too,” Zane says.
Mouth dry, I stand to undress as well, never taking my eyes off her. As soon as my clothes are off, she reaches for them, adding them to her growing nest. The way she burrows into the fabric, inhaling deeply, gratifies me. She's still looking around, her distress evident. She whimpers. Instead of burying herself in the comfort of our scents, her movements grow desperate. It takes me a moment to realize what she's searching for.
“Cole,” I say softly. “She wants his scent, too.”
Zane is already moving, darting out of the closet. He returns in record time with an armful of Cole's clothes, offering them to her like precious gifts. She arranges them on hands and knees, weaving our scents together. Mine, Zane's, Cole's. Creating a space that's ours, even with one of us missing.
As she bends over, the sight of her glistening pussy between her thighs makes my mouth water. The urge to taste her like Zane already has, to bury my face between her legs and bring her pleasure, is overwhelming. But then she looks over her shoulder at me, green eyes pleading. “Alpha,” she whimpers. “Please... I need...”
“What do you desire, Omega? You need to tell me.” I hate having to make her say the words. I’m not sure she even can, but it’s important for her mind to catch up to what her body longs for. She whimpers, becoming more distraught.
I grip my throbbing knot, squeezing hard. Her gaze falls to my hand, clenched around my cock, and she licks her lips. She pants as a bead of sweat slides along her backbone.
“Tell me you want my knot, Omega. Tell me.” My voice is rough and hard as I work to contain myself. Barely.
Her cry breaks my heart, but she speaks one word that releases the pressure in my chest and sets me in action. “Yes… I want your knot, Alpha.” Her back arches in a beautiful, slender line as she raises her hips and tucks her cheek to the floor.
“Such a good omega, telling your alpha you need his knot. This is yours. Always yours.” I move behind her, drawn by the scent of her arousal, the sight of her presenting so beautifully. My fingers glide through the slick coating her folds, and I can't resist bringing the essence to my mouth for a taste. The flavor explodes across my tongue, musky sweetness, pure omega essence. My knees nearly buckle at the intensity of it. She's exquisite, addictive, everything I've ever craved.
Her panting fills the space, each sound edged with a whimper. I'm being selfish, making her wait, but I need a moment just to process the reality of her here, wanting me.
Wanting us.
I line up the head of my aching cock with her entrance, dragging it through her folds, coating myself in her slick. She pushes back, trying to take me in, and it takes every ounce of control not to surge forward. My fingers tighten on her hips, denting her soft flesh so she doesn’t hurt herself in her rush. I want this to be so good for her, that even in her heat, this will be indelibly marked in her brain as something she’ll want to repeat with me.
I ease into her slowly, carefully, savoring each incredible inch. Her heat surrounds me, velvet soft and scorching. She's so tight, her body gripping me like she never wants to let go.
“Gods. You’re exquisite, Omega. Perfect. Made for me. Made for us.” A low groan escapes me as I bottom out, my hips flush against her perfect ass. I hold there, letting her adjust, allowing myself to revel in being inside her at last.
“Alpha,” she keens, and it's the sweetest sound I've ever heard. “More, please...”
And I can't deny her anything. Not now.
Not ever.
I start to move, slow deep strokes that drag across her sensitive spots, that make her clench and shudder around me. I pour every ounce of care, of gentleness, of cherishing into my movements. Trying to say with my body what she's not ready to hear.
Each thrust into her tight heat is pure bliss, her walls gripping me like silk and velvet. I've never felt anything so perfect, so utterly consuming. I’ve come home and discovered heaven all at once, but even as she moans and writhes beneath me, she’s still restless. Her fingers claw at the blankets, the whine coming from her burrowing beneath my skin, as she seeks something to ground her.
“Zane,” I manage, my voice rough with pleasure. “Let her taste you.”
He moves to kneel in front of her and guides her mouth to his straining cock, groaning as her lips wrap around him. The sight of her taking him so beautifully, so eagerly, nearly undoes me. I have to pause, breathing deeply, fighting the urge to let go too soon.
Zane throws his head back, lost in the ecstasy of her mouth, but I still smell the bitter notes in her scent, the edge of distress that tells me she needs more. I redouble my efforts, thrusting deep and hard while my fingers find her swollen clit. I rub in tight circles as she clenches and flutters around my cock in response .
“That's it, Little One,” I praise, my release building at the base of my spine. “Let go for us.”
Zane cries out, his pleasure cresting. She swallows his release eagerly, desperately, like she's starving for it. Her biology is dictating what her mind rejects. She needs us. She needs her alphas.
The extra stimulation is all she needs. With a muffled keen around Zane's throbbing cock, she shatters, her orgasm hitting hard and fast. Her walls spasm around me, rippling along my length, coaxing me deeper.
I surge forward, working my growing knot past her tight entrance. The moment it catches, locking us together, euphoria crashes through me. I've never felt completion like this—physical, emotional, spiritual.
My release fills her in long, hot pulses, each one a claim and a covenant. She milks me for every drop, her body welcoming my essence like it was made for her. I gather her close and lay us down on our side. Zane embraces her from the front, placing a kiss on her forehead as she dozes, drunk on his cum and my knot. We stay locked together, savoring the intimacy, the rightness of it. For this perfect, fleeting moment, everything else fades away. No more fear, no more pain, no more bitter past. Just an alpha and their omega, bound together as nature intended.
Until she writhes again.
Time becomes fluid, marked only by Mira's cycles of hunger and brief periods of exhausted sleep. She’s always in pain. Her scent fills the space between us, pungent and heavy with her arousal but also with a bitter edge I wish wasn’t there. No matter how hard, fast, rough or tenderly Zane and I fuck her, it’s there.
Always there.
She surrenders, but not fully.
We feed her when we can, coaxing water and small bites of food into her between waves of heat, but it’s clear this heat is hitting her hard. We make love to her again and again, taking turns, working together to ease her pain. Sometimes she takes us both at once, desperate for connection, for fullness, for completion. Other times she needs gentle, singular attention, soft touches and whispered praise .
Hours or days pass; I'm not sure anymore. We're all exhausted, running on instinct and need. Zane's usual grace is gone, replaced by endless weariness. Mira's face is drawn, her body pushed to its limits despite our care.
When I wake next, they're both sleeping. Zane curled protectively around Mira's tiny frame, her face finally peaceful in true rest. Her skin, where I touch her, is back to a normal temperature. Her heat has broken, and I can only thank the gods that with it gone, so is her unnatural pain.
I carefully ease out of the nest, intending to fetch more supplies. We're all dehydrated, hungry, depleted.
I pass through our living area to see the kitchen light is on. I hear noises and find Cole leaning against the countertop looking as rough as I feel. His clothes are rumpled, dark circles under his eyes, his scent sharp with distress and conflict.
“Cole,” I say softly.
His head lifts and knowing passes over his features.
The conversation we're about to have has been brewing for days.
And despite my weariness, it can't wait any longer.