Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sierra
The window won’t close.
I’m standing here in nothing but the oversized t-shirt I hauled on when the shutter flew open. It’s plastered to my overheated skin, getting wet as I stare at this goddamn window that’s stuck open three inches, while rain is pouring into my nest.
My carefully constructed, perfectly arranged, only-source-of-comfort-in-this-nightmare nest.
Water is pooling on the windowsill, dripping down onto the pillows I spent an hour arranging. The sheets are soaked. The fuzzy throw is getting drenched.
And I can’t. Get. The window. To close.
“Come on,” I mutter, gripping the frame and pulling with everything I have. “Close. Please just close.”
It doesn’t budge.
Another wave of heat crashes through me, and I have to stop, leaning against the wall and trying to breathe through it. My skin is on fire. My thighs are slick. My body is screaming for relief I can’t give it.
And now my nest is being destroyed by a broken window.
I want to scream. Want to throw something. Want to collapse on the floor and give up entirely.
Instead, I grab the frame again and pull harder. Maybe if I just apply enough force—
The frame groans. Something in the mechanism shifts.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Come on, just a little more—”
I pull harder, putting my full weight into it, and for a moment I think it’s working. The window starts to move, sliding down those crucial inches.
Then my hands slip.
The wet wood slides through my grip, and I stumble backward, feet tangling in the drenched blankets. I try to catch myself on the edge of the bed, but my coordination is shot from the heat. My hand misses the mattress entirely.
I go down hard.
My hip hits the floor first, then my shoulder. Pain explodes through both joints, and a cry tears from my throat before I can stop it.
“Fuck!”
The word comes out loud, raw and hurt and completely undignified.
For a moment, I just lie there, stunned. The pain radiates through my hip and shoulder in waves that compete with the heat still burning through my veins. Rain continues to pour through the window, hitting my ruined nest, the soaked pillows, everything I’ve been clinging to for comfort.
My lip trembles. I bite down on it hard, trying to maintain some shred of composure, but it’s no use.
The tears come.
Not quiet, dignified tears. Full body-shaking sobs that I can’t control. Everything is too much. The heat, the pain, the ruined nest, the broken window, the four alphas I can’t have, even though my body is screaming for them.
I curl onto my side, pulling my knees up, and let myself break.
Nothing is fine. And I can’t pretend anymore.
My shoulder throbs. Fresh slick pools between my thighs because apparently, my omega thinks a breakdown is the perfect time to advertise my availability. The scent of my slick intensifies, probably broadcasting my distress along with my heat to the entire house.
I press my face against the wet floor and sob harder.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps in the hallway.
Multiple footsteps.
Running.
Oh god. They heard me.
“Sierra?” Dax’s voice, sharp with alarm. “Are you okay?”
I try to answer, but all that comes out is another sob.
“Sierra!” Jalen now, closer. Right outside my door. His voice cracks with worry. “Answer us. Please. Are you hurt?”
I manage to draw in a shaky breath. “I’m—”
Another sob cuts off whatever lie I was about to tell.
“Fuck this,” Dax growls. “I’m coming in.”
The door crashes open.
The moment it does, the scent of my heat pours into the hallway. I hear all four of them make sounds. Sharp intakes of breath, low growls, desperate whines.
Then they’re flooding into my room.
Dax enters first and stops dead, his entire body going rigid. His scent spikes so aggressively it makes my omega release a high-pitched whimper.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes. “Sierra—”
Malik shoulders past him, then freezes too. His jaw clenches so hard I can hear his teeth grinding. Vanilla ice-cream floods the room, thick and sweet and desperate.
My gaze shifts to Jalen, and the sound he makes when my scent hits him is almost a whimper. His hands curl into fists at his sides. Toasted marshmallow and spiced cider goes dark and rich and wanting.
Cole has to brace himself against the doorframe. “Jesus Christ,” he chokes out. Cinnamon-glazed pecans explodes around him, so potent I can taste it.
They’re all staring at me. At the omega crying on the floor, soaked and hurting and surrounded by the ruins of her nest, heat-scent so thick in the air it’s like a fog.
For a moment, nobody moves. They’re frozen by the sight, by the scent, by their ruts screaming at them to do something.
Then I sob again, and it breaks the spell.
“Sierra.” Dax’s voice is pure gravel. He takes a step toward me, then another, fighting for control with every movement. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
I try to answer, but I’m crying too hard. My lip trembles, and fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“Omega,” Jalen says softly, and the word sends a shiver through me. He’s at my side in an instant, dropping to his knees. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re here. Tell us what hurts.”
“Everything,” I manage between sobs. “The window—it wouldn’t—and I fell—”
My voice breaks completely.
Cole makes a sound like he’s been punched. “Jesus, she’s crying. She’s actually crying, and I can smell—fuck, I can smell pain mixed with her heat.”
“Where?” Malik demands, moving closer. All four of them are converging on me now, drawn by instinct they can’t fight. “Where does it hurt?”
“Hip,” I gasp. “Shoulder. I hit—I landed—”
Another sob chokes off the words.
Jalen’s hand hovers over my shoulder, trembling. “Can I touch you? Let me see where it hurts.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
The moment his fingers make contact with my skin, we both gasp. His touch sends electricity through me, heat and comfort and alpha all mixed together. My omega purrs despite the pain, desperate for more contact.
And Jalen… his control visibly fractures. His hand is shaking as he carefully probes my shoulder, and his scent has gone so thick and sweet it’s like being wrapped in warmth.
“Easy,” he murmurs, and it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to me. “Just need to—fuck, she’s so warm. She’s burning up.”
“Is anything broken?” Dax asks roughly. He’s pacing behind Jalen, unable to stay still, burned caramel pouring off him in aggressive waves.
“No,” Jalen says after a moment. His hands move to my hip and I whimper at the contact. “But she’s going to bruise badly. Sierra, can you sit up? I need to see—”
“The window,” Malik interrupts, his voice strained. “It’s still open. Rain’s still coming in.”
I turn my head and see water pouring through the gap, destroying what’s left of my nest. A fresh sob tears from my throat.
“My nest,” I cry. “It’s ruined. Everything’s ruined.”
“Shhh,” Cole says, dropping to his knees on my other side. His hand reaches out, hesitates, then settles on my arm. The touch is gentle, but I can feel him shaking with the effort of maintaining control. “We’ll fix it. We’ll fix everything.”
“Malik,” Dax barks. “Window. Now.”
“On it.” Malik moves to the window, but I can see how much effort it takes him to turn away from me. To focus on the task instead of the crying omega on the floor.
Dax joins him, the two of them positioning themselves on either side of the stuck frame. But Dax keeps glancing back at me, his jaw clenched so tight it has to hurt.
Meanwhile, Jalen and Cole are still kneeling beside me, their presence a comfort even as their scents broadcast how close they are to losing control.
“Can you sit up?” Jalen asks again, his voice gentler this time. “Let me help you.”
I nod, and his arm slides around my back, supporting me as I push into a sitting position. The movement sends pain shooting through my hip, and I gasp, more tears spilling down my cheeks.
“I’ve got you,” Jalen says roughly. His arm tightens around me, and I can feel him trembling. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Cole’s hand is still on my arm, his thumb stroking small circles that should be soothing but instead just make me more aware of him. Of his scent. Of his barely controlled breathing.
“The pain,” Cole says, his voice strained. “It’s mixing with her heat-scent. I can smell both, and it’s—fuck, my rut doesn’t know what to do. Fix the pain or ease the heat or—”
“Focus,” Jalen snaps, but his own voice is shaking. “She needs us to focus.”
Behind them, Dax and Malik are wrestling with the window. I can hear Dax growling under his breath, using brute strength to force the mechanism.
“It’s bent,” Malik says tightly. “The track is completely—”
“I don’t care,” Dax snarls. “Force it. She’s crying, and her nest is being destroyed, and I need this fucking window closed now.”
The raw alpha command in his voice makes all of us shiver. Malik doesn’t argue, just positions himself better and pulls.
“Three,” Dax counts. “Two. One.”
They heave together, and the window groans in protest. Metal screeches against metal. Then it slides down with a final shriek.
Closed.
The sudden silence is deafening. No more rain pouring in. No more wind.
But I’m still crying.
“Sierra,” Jalen says softly. His hand comes up to my face, thumb brushing away tears with a touch so gentle it makes me cry harder. “Hey. The window’s fixed. It’s okay now.”
“It’s not,” I sob. “Look at my nest. It’s destroyed. Everything’s wet and ruined, and I spent so long making it perfect, and—”
My voice breaks on another sob.
All four alphas make sounds of distress. Actual whines that they can’t control.
“We’ll rebuild it,” Cole says urgently. His hand tightens on my arm. “Better than before. We’ll make it perfect again.”
“You can’t,” I cry. “Half the pillows are soaked, the sheets are ruined, the—”