Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cole
I’ve never considered myself particularly poetic, but watching Sierra come apart for the third time in less than an hour makes me understand why people write sonnets about beautiful things.
She’s gorgeous like this. Flushed and trembling, tears streaming down her face, completely wrecked in the best possible way. The syrupy thickness of her scent is so thick in the air it’s drowning out everything else, sweet and heady and absolutely intoxicating.
And I’m so fucking hard it hurts.
We all are. I can see it in the way Jalen’s breathing has gone shallow, the way Malik keeps shifting his weight, and the corded muscles standing out in Dax’s forearms as his hands cup Sierra’s face.
We’re all barely holding on, rut clawing at our control, demanding we take what our omega is offering.
Our omega…
I never knew that would sound so right until I thought it.
But we’re waiting. Making sure she’s ready. Making sure this is good for her.
Even if it’s killing us.
“More,” Sierra whispers, her voice wrecked and desperate. “Please. I need more.”
The plea goes straight to my dick, and I have to bite back a groan. Beside me, Jalen makes a choked sound.
“Okay, sweetheart,” I manage, surprised my voice comes out relatively steady. “Okay. We’re going to give you what you need.”
I pull my fingers free slowly, mourning the loss of her heat, and she whimpers at the absence. The sound makes all four of us tense.
“Easy, omega,” Dax soothes, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You won’t be empty for long. We’re going to take care of you.”
“Promise?” she asks, and the vulnerability in her voice makes my chest tight.
“Promise,” Malik confirms. He’s already pulling his shirt over his head, revealing the defined muscles beneath. “Which of us do you want first, Sierra?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment. Sierra’s heat-glazed eyes drift over all four of us like she’s trying to make an impossible decision.
“I—” She swallows hard. “I don’t know. I want—” Her breath hitches. “All of you. But I don’t know who—”
“It’s okay,” Jalen says gently. He’s working on his own shirt now, and I realize I should probably be doing the same. “You don’t have to choose. We’ll figure it out.”
I pull my shirt off and toss it aside, then work on my shorts. The fabric is already straining against my erection, and when I finally free myself, the relief is almost painful.
Around me, my brothers are doing the same. Jalen’s movements are careful despite the obvious bulge in his shorts, and Malik is the same.
Dax is still focused entirely on Sierra, his hands on her face, his forehead now pressed to hers.
“Who do you want, omega?” he asks quietly. “Tell us. We’ll give you whatever you need.”
But Sierra seems beyond words now. Her eyes are glazed with heat, her body trembling, fresh slick pooling between her thighs. She’s reaching the point where coherent thought is becoming difficult. Where instinct takes over, and all she knows is need.
The peak of heat, when an omega becomes almost feral with desperation. When they need a knot so badly that nothing else matters.
We’re not there yet. Sierra’s still aware, still present. But we’re close.
“Please,” she whimpers again, and her hands come up to grip Dax’s shoulders. “Please, alpha—”
The word ‘alpha’ makes all four of us growl in response. My rut surges, and I reach out to touch her, unable to stop myself.
Dax’s scent floods the room, thick and dark and possessive.
“I’ve got you, omega. Going to give you exactly what you need.
” He rips his t-shirt over his head, kicks his shorts off and tosses it aside, then shifts, positioning himself between her spread thighs.
And I realize the decision has been made. Dax will take care of her first.
And the rest of us...
We’re okay with it.
More than okay. Watching Dax settle between her thighs, watching him line himself up, watching the way Sierra’s back arches in anticipation, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
This is pack. This is taking care of our omega together, supporting each other through rut, making sure she gets what she needs even if it’s not from me first.
But God, I wish it was me.
“Look at me, omega,” Dax commands, and Sierra’s eyes snap to his immediately. “Going to knot you now. Going to fill you up so good you forget what it feels like to be empty. You ready?”
“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes, alpha.”
Dax pushes forward in one smooth thrust, and Sierra’s pleading cuts off with a sharp cry. Her head falls back, exposing the elegant line of her throat, and her whole body arches into the contact.
“Fuck,” Jalen breathes beside me, and I couldn’t agree more.
Watching them is mesmerizing. Dax is holding still, giving Sierra time to adjust, his jaw clenched with the effort of restraining himself. Every muscle in his body is tense, and I can see the way his shoulders are trembling with the need to move.
But he waits. Waits until Sierra’s breathing evens out slightly. Waits until she’s clinging to him instead of just clutching. Waits until she whimpers, “Move, please move.”
Then he does.
The first thrust is slow and deep, and Sierra makes a sound I’ve never heard before. Something between a moan and a sob, pure satisfaction and relief. Her legs wrap around Dax’s waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper.
“That’s it,” Dax growls. “Take it, omega. Take everything I give you.”
I’m transfixed. Can’t look away even though watching is torture.
Every thrust makes my dick throb. Every sound Sierra makes goes straight to my rut-addled brain.
Every time Dax’s hips snap forward, I imagine what it would feel like to be the one inside her, surrounded by that wet heat, drowning in pure, raw honeycomb.
Beside me, Malik and Jalen aren’t faring better. Malik’s hand has drifted down to palm himself, his vanilla ice-cream so thick it’s practically visible. Jalen’s breathing has gone ragged, his toasted sugar spiking every time Sierra cries out.
We’re all barely holding on.
“Please,” Sierra is begging now, her voice high and desperate. “Please, alpha, I need—I need your knot, please—”
“Not yet,” Dax grits out, and I’m impressed he can still form words. “Want to make this last. Want you to feel every second.”
“I am feeling it,” she sobs. “Please, I need—”
“You need to come first,” Dax says. One hand slides between their bodies, and Sierra cries out sharply. “That’s it. Come on my cock, omega. Show me how good I make you feel.”
His fingers work her, and it only takes a few seconds before Sierra is shattering again. Her fourth orgasm crashes over her, and she’s screaming, actually screaming, Dax’s name as her body convulses.
The sight and sound and smell of it is too much.
I’m coming before I can stop myself, spilling in my hand like a teenager, my whole body shaking with the force of it. Distantly, I’m aware that Jalen has done the same, his good hand fisted in the nest material, his scent spiking sharp and desperate.
But I can’t focus on that because Dax is knotting her.
I watch as his knot swells, locking them together. Watch as Sierra’s eyes go wide and then flutter closed in absolute satisfaction. Watch as Dax’s whole body goes rigid and then shudders as he comes, filling her with everything he has.
The air is thick with alpha rut and omega heat and satisfaction, and it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.
For a long moment, nobody moves. Nobody can. We’re all trying to catch our breath, trying to come back to ourselves, trying to process what just happened.
Then Sierra makes a small, contented sound. A purr? And the spell breaks.
“How are you feeling, omega?” Dax asks, his voice rough. He’s still knotted inside her, will be for at least another fifteen minutes, but his hands are gentle as they stroke her hair back from her face.
“Good,” she mumbles, her eyes still closed. “So good. Full. Perfect.”
“Yeah?” He sounds pleased. “Not too much?”
“No.” She’s definitely purring now, her omega completely satisfied for the moment. “Just right.”
I force myself to move, to think past the haze of rut and the mess in my hand. Sierra needs aftercare. Needs water and comfort and gentle touches while she’s knotted.
Needs her pack.
“I’ll get water,” I manage, my voice sounding like stones.
“I’ll get a warm cloth,” Malik adds. He’s already moving toward the bathroom, his movements careful like he doesn’t quite trust his legs.
Jalen stays close, one hand reaching out to stroke Sierra’s arm. “You did so well, sweetheart. Took Dax’s knot so perfectly. So proud of you.”
The praise makes Sierra’s purr intensify and even knotted and satisfied, I can scent fresh slick. Her heat isn’t done, not even close, but for now, she’s content.
I head to the kitchen, grateful for the brief respite from the overwhelming scent of the nest. I wash my hands first, getting rid of the evidence of my lack of self-control, before I grab bottles of water and some of the protein bars we’d set aside, then head back to the nest room.
The scene I return to makes my chest tight.
Dax is still knotted inside Sierra, but he’s shifted them so she’s practically lying on top of him, her head tucked under his chin.
One of his hands is stroking her back in long, soothing motions while the other holds her hip, keeping them locked together.
The dark, syrupy notes in his scent have softened, becoming almost sweet with satisfaction and protectiveness.
Malik is back too, carefully cleaning Sierra’s thighs with a warm cloth. His touch is gentle, taking care not to jostle where she and Dax are joined.
And Jalen is lying beside them, one hand playing with Sierra’s hair while he murmurs soft praise.
I set the water and snacks within easy reach and then settle on Sierra’s other side, mirroring Jalen’s position.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say softly. “How you doing?”
Her eyes flutter open, and the smile she gives me is drowsy and satisfied. “Cole. Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” I can’t help but smile back. “You thirsty?”
She considers this, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”
I grab a water bottle and help her drink, supporting her head since she’s still lying on Dax. She drains half the bottle before pulling back with a satisfied sigh.
“Better?” I ask.
“Better,” she confirms. Then, after a pause: “Did you...?”
She trails off, but I know what she’s asking. Heat floods my face.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I, uh. Couldn’t help it. Watching you was too hot.”
Instead of being embarrassed, Sierra looks pleased. “Really?”
“Really,” Jalen confirms from her other side. “We both did. You’re incredibly sexy when you come, Sierra. Watching Dax knot you was...” He trails off, shaking his head. “There aren’t words.”
“Intense,” Malik supplies. He’s finished cleaning her up and is now settling at the foot of the nest, his hand resting on her ankle. “Beautiful. Perfect.”
Sierra’s blush spreads down her chest, and her scent spikes with pleasure and embarrassment. “I don’t know about perfect.”
“We do,” Dax says firmly. His arms tighten around her. “You were perfect, omega. Are perfect.”
Her eyes are starting to droop, exhaustion and satisfaction pulling her toward sleep.
“Sleep,” Jalen murmurs. “We’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“Promise?” she mumbles, already half-gone.
“Promise,” we all say in unison.
Her breathing evens out within minutes, her body going slack and boneless against Dax.
She’s utterly trusting, completely vulnerable.
A low growl rumbles in my chest, an instinct so deep I have to clench my jaw to suppress it.
My alpha wants to build a wall around her with our bodies and dare anything to get close.
We sit in silence for a while, just watching her sleep. Dax’s knot has started to go down, but he makes no move to separate them, seemingly content to stay joined as long as possible.
Finally, Malik speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “We should talk about rotation.”
“Rotation?” I repeat.
“She’s going to need all of us before this is over. We should have a plan.”
He’s right, of course. Sierra’s heat is far from over. This was just the beginning. And all four of us are deep in rut, barely holding on to control even now.
“No plan,” Dax says quietly. “We follow her lead. She reaches for who she needs in the moment. No schedules, no taking turns. Just... responding to what she needs.”
It’s a good idea. Fair. Puts Sierra’s needs at the center, where they should be.
“Agreed,” Jalen says softly. “Though we should probably set up a system for food and water. Someone needs to be clear-headed enough to make sure she stays hydrated and fed.”
“I can do that,” I offer. “I’m good at staying focused even in rut.”
“We’ll take shifts,” Malik decides. “Two in the nest at all times, two on support duty. We rotate every few hours.”
“Works for me,” I agree.
Silence falls again, heavier this time. We’re all thinking the same thing; I can tell. Sierra is different. What we’re all feeling goes beyond rut response or heat compatibility.
This is dangerous.
This is the kind of thing that could change everything.
“We’re in trouble,” Dax finally says, his voice rough.
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Big trouble.”
“She’s incredible,” Malik adds quietly. His scent has gone soft and warm, affectionate in a way I’ve never smelled before. “I’ve never met an omega like her.”
“What happens when the storm ends?” Jalen asks.
The question hangs in the air. What happens when Sierra’s heat breaks and our ruts fade? When we’re all thinking clearly again? When she has to decide if this was just biological necessity or something more?
What happens if she chooses to leave?
The thought makes my chest tight and my rut surge with possessive denial. She’s ours. I don’t know when it happened, but she’s our omega. Our pack. She can’t leave.
But she’s not actually ours. Not permanently. Not yet.
Maybe never.
The silence stretches, none of us wanting to voice our fears. None of us wanting to think about Sierra walking away once this is over.
Because the truth is, I don’t think I could handle it.
I don’t think any of us could.
We’re already too far gone. Too attached. Too convinced that this storm might have shown us the missing piece we didn’t know we needed.
And there’s not a damn thing we can do about it except wait for the storm to end.
And hope like hell she chooses to stay.