Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jalen
Ican feel it building again before Sierra even wakes.
Her scent shifts first. The sweetness deepens, going thick and golden like it’s been left in the sun too long.
It turns richer, almost heady, intensifying until I can taste the sugar on the back of my tongue.
Then her breathing changes, becoming shallow and quick, and her body starts to tremble.
Small tremors at first, then bigger ones, running through her even in sleep.
Another wave is coming.
And this one feels different. Bigger. Wrong somehow, in a way that makes my rutting alpha scream that she needs us now. The kind of heat surge that won’t be satisfied with gentle touches and careful orgasms. The kind that demands everything we have to give.
I’m sitting at the edge of the nest, watching her sleep between my brothers, and my hands won’t stop shaking.
We’d managed to get more food and water into her an hour ago, but she’d been fighting it the whole time.
Whimpering, barely able to focus long enough to swallow.
Only Dax’s firm alpha rumble, which she couldn’t ignore even through the heat haze, had gotten her to eat at all.
Now she’s restless again. Shifting against Cole’s chest, one hand reaching out even in sleep like she’s searching for something she can’t find.
“It’s coming,” Malik says quietly beside me. His scent has gone sharp with rut-response, vanilla ice-cream turning almost bitter with it. His pupils are already wide, the deep brown of his eyes dark. “I can smell it.”
“Yeah.” My own scent is spiking in answer to her need, going acrid and desperate. “This one’s going to be intense.”
Intense doesn’t even begin to cover it. My cock is already hard, pressing painfully against the shorts I pulled on, and Sierra hasn’t even fully woken yet. My rut is screaming at me to get closer, to touch her, to make the distress stop before it even starts.
Cole’s hand moves to Sierra’s hair, stroking gently, his movements careful even though I can smell how close he is to losing it. “She’s going to need more than what we’ve been giving her.”
He doesn’t say it explicitly, but we all know what he means. We’ve been holding back, trying to ease her through the waves with mouths and fingers. Taking care of ourselves separately when it got too intense, jerking off in the bathroom like teenagers so we wouldn’t lose control around her.
But we can’t keep doing that.
Sierra needs to be knotted in succession.
Needs to be filled and claimed and thoroughly satisfied until her heat breaks.
And all four of us are so deep in rut now that holding back is becoming physically painful.
My balls ache with it. Every breath I take is full of her scent, and it’s driving me insane.
Dax shifts, careful not to disturb Sierra. His scent is thick and possessive in the air, almost aggressive. “Who’s next?”
We’d agreed to follow her lead, let her choose who she reaches for when the waves hit. But Sierra’s too far gone in heat to make conscious choices anymore. She’s all instinct and need now, reaching for whoever is closest when the desperation takes over.
So, we need to decide.
My throat feels tight. Dax knotted her first, grounding her when she was spiraling. Malik brought her down from that desperate edge this morning. Cole’s been the steady presence throughout, always there with water and gentle touches and firm commands when she needs them.
And me? I’ve been the one whispering soft words, stroking her hair, trying to keep her grounded when the heat threatens to pull her completely under. The support. The comfort.
But never the solution.
“I’ll do it,” I hear myself say.
Three pairs of eyes turn to me. Malik’s eyebrows rise slightly, surprise clear on his face. Cole looks considering, like he’s weighing whether I can handle it. Dax just nods slowly, like he’d expected this all along.
“You sure?” Cole asks, but there’s only concern in his voice. Not judgment.
Am I?
I’ve been hanging back this whole time, letting my brothers take the lead.
But watching them with her, seeing them give Sierra what she needs while I stay on the sidelines, it’s killing me.
My rut is demanding I take care of our omega, that I prove I can provide for her, that I show her she can trust me with her most vulnerable moments.
And maybe I need to prove it to myself, too.
“I’m sure,” I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel.
“Then we support,” Malik decides, already moving closer. “All of us together.”
Sierra’s eyes flutter open, but they’re not focused. They’re completely glazed, dark with heat. Just pools of black that don’t track anything, don’t see anything except what her heat-brain is telling her she needs.
She doesn’t speak. Just makes this desperate keening sound that goes straight through all of us like a knife.
Fuck.
Her whole body is trembling now. Not just small tremors but full shaking, like she’s fighting something inside herself and losing. Fresh slick pools between her thighs. I can see it darkening the sheets, and the scent of it hits me full-on. Sweet and desperate and mine.
My mouth waters. My cock throbs. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get closer, to touch her, to soothe her.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” I murmur, moving to settle beside her. My hands are still shaking as I reach out to touch her face. “We’re all right here.”
She doesn’t acknowledge my words. I don’t think she even hears them. Just keeps making those broken sounds.
This is it. The peak. When an omega is so deep in heat that language becomes impossible, that conscious thought dissolves into pure biological need.
Seeing Sierra like this? It’s terrifying and beautiful and overwhelming all at once.
I stroke her face gently, letting her scent wash over me, trying to stay calm even though my rut is howling.
“I’m going to take care of you,” I tell her, even though I’m not sure she can understand. Even though I’m saying it as much for myself as for her. “Going to give you what you need, Sierra.”
Her eyes track toward my voice but don’t focus. She makes another high, desperate sound that raises every hair on my body, and her back arches off the bed.
Fuck.
My hands move to my shorts, fumbling with the waistband. I shed them, and my cock springs free, hard and heavy and already leaking. Sierra’s heat-glazed eyes drift down, tracking the movement, and she makes a sound that might be relief or need or both.
When I settle between her thighs, the scent of her slick is overwhelming. She’s soaked, trembling, completely lost to instinct, and I have to close my eyes for a second just to breathe through it.
“Easy,” I murmur, running my hands along her thighs. Her skin is burning hot. “Let me take all this heat for you.”
I don’t wait for a response I know won’t come. Just line myself up, my cock sliding through all that slick, and push inside slowly, carefully, watching her face for any sign of pain.
But there’s only relief. Her mouth falls open on a silent cry, her whole body going taut as I fill her inch by inch, and the expression on her face is pure salvation.
She’s so tight. So hot. So perfect around me that I have to pause halfway, breathing hard, fighting for control because if I don’t, I’m going to come right now like some virgin.
When I’m fully seated, Sierra makes this sound that’s broken and grateful and desperate all at once. Her hands come up to clutch at my shoulders, holding on like I’m the only solid thing in her world.
I start to move. Slow at first, letting her adjust, but her body is demanding more. Her hips lift to meet my thrusts, taking me deeper, and the sounds she’s making get more desperate with each slide.
“Sierra,” I murmur, picking up the pace. My control is already fraying at the edges. “You’re so perfect. So perfect for us.”
Her body answers even if she can’t. Clenching around me, trembling, arching into each thrust like she needs to feel me everywhere, like she can’t get close enough.
I feel hands on my back. Cole, supporting me, anchoring me. And then Malik is there beside us, his hand stroking through Sierra’s hair, murmuring soft words she probably can’t understand but might feel anyway.
“Beautiful,” Malik says, and his voice is rough with rut. “So strong. You’re doing so good, Sierra.”
Dax settles on her other side, one hand resting on her thigh. The possessive touch makes something rumble deep in my chest. Mine, she’s mine, I’m taking care of her. But then Sierra’s hand reaches out, finding Dax’s arm, holding on, and the possessiveness melts into something else.
Pack.
We’re all pack. All here for her. All taking care of her together.
I shift my angle slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk. She makes a sound that’s almost a scream, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to break skin.
“Close,” I murmur to my brothers, because Sierra can’t tell us herself. “She’s close. I can feel it.”
“Give her what she needs,” Cole says, his voice rough with his own barely-controlled rut.
I thrust harder, faster, chasing that edge for both of us. Sierra’s trembling is getting worse, her whole body tensing like a bowstring, and I know she’s right there, right on the edge, just needs that final push.
My knot starts to swell, catching on her rim with each thrust. The sensation makes her keen, high and desperate and needy, and I know without words that that’s what she’s yearning for. Not just my cock. Not just release. But my knot. To be locked and filled and claimed.
“Going to knot you,” I tell her, though I’m saying it more to ground myself. “Going to fill you up so good, Sierra. Going to make this ache in your belly finally stop.”
A few more hard, deep, possessive thrusts and my knot pops inside, locking us together.