Chapter 14
14
EMMA
I step out of the police station into the blinding mid-morning sunshine, hands still shaking from the hour-long interview.
The detective’s questions loop through my mind like a broken record.
“Did you leave any candles burning? Any electrical devices on? Could you have accidentally knocked something over? Did you have any visitors over?”
No.
No. No.
At least, I don’t think so.
But now doubt has crept in, worming its way through my certainty.
I’m almost positive I blew out the candles before bed.
Almost.
God, what if this was all my fault?
“Emma.”
I glance up to find Atlas, Levi, and River waiting at the bottom of the steps.
The sight of them, these three Alphas who’ve inserted themselves into my life with alarming speed, sends a jolt of something hot and primal through me that I desperately try to ignore.
Except right now, I couldn’t be more relieved that they are waiting for me, and I’m not alone.
“Hey,” I manage, forcing a smile as I descend the stairs.
“You guys didn’t have to wait. I feel bad. You must have work to do.”
“We took the day off,” Atlas admits, both hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.
He stands there so casually, as if he’s stepped straight out of a men’s fashion magazine, looking entirely too intoxicating for my peace of mind.
After last night’s..
. explosion between us on the balcony, I can barely look at him without blushing furiously.
“All of you?” I ask, surprised.
River shrugs, offering me an easy grin.
“The town hasn’t burned down yet. We figured it could survive one more day.”
“We wanted you to know you’re not alone,” Levi adds, giving me a wicked grin.
Something tight in my chest loosens at their words.
It’s been so long since any guy has shown up for me like this, not just offering help but actually being present when I need it.
“How did it go?” Atlas asks.
I shrug, trying for nonchalance.
“Fine, I think? They asked about a thousand questions, made me go through everything step by step.”
River slings an arm around my shoulders.
“And now that the boring police stuff is done, we have plans.”
“You said yesterday we’re going to the Summer Festival?” I’m aware of the heat pouring from him as he’s pressed against my side.
What’s wrong with me today?
It’s like every nerve ending in my body is dialed up to eleven.
“Yep,” Levi answers with a small smile.
“Best event of the year. And you, Emma, are our guest of honor.”
“I don’t know...” I begin hesitantly.
All I really want is to crawl back into my nest-bed and process everything, the interview, the growing suspicion that I might have caused the fire, and the increasingly urgent heat that’s been building in my core since I woke up this morning, slick with sweat and aching with need.
“Not optional,” River announces cheerfully, steering me toward Atlas’ truck parked at the curb.
“Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re a paramedic, not a doctor,” Levi points out.
“Close enough,” River dismisses with a wave.
“The prescription is funnel cake, carnival games, and at least one ride that makes you question your life choices.”
Despite my misgivings, I find myself laughing.
“Fine. But if I throw up after whatever death trap you put me on, I’m aiming for your shoes.”
“Fair enough,” River agrees with a wink.
We pile into Atlas’ truck, with me sandwiched between Levi and River in the back seat because of the equipment River insisted on shoving in the front seat.
The close quarters mean I’m pressed against both of them from shoulder to knee, their combined body heat making me feel almost feverish.
I try to focus on the scenery outside the window, but I’m acutely aware of every shift, every breath from the Alphas surrounding me.
The drive to the festival grounds is mercifully short.
As we pull into the designated parking area, I catch a full glimpse of the Summer Festival, and despite everything, a childlike excitement bubbles up inside me.
The main street of Whispering Grove has been transformed into an explosion of color and activity.
Banners and fairy lights stretch between lampposts, booths line both sides of the street, and the air is filled with the mingled scents of fried foods, sugar, and people everywhere.
In the distance, I spot carnival rides rising above the buildings, a Ferris wheel slowly turning against the backdrop of mountains and forest.
“Wow,” I breathe, genuinely impressed.
“The town really goes all out.”
“Told you,” Atlas states.
“This festival keeps half the businesses in town afloat. We don’t do anything halfway.”
As soon as we’re out of the truck, River grabs my hand, tugging me toward the main entrance.
“Come on! If we time it right, we can hit all the best food stands before the lunch rush.”
I let myself be pulled along, laughing at his enthusiasm.
Levi and Atlas follow behind us.
The next few hours pass in a colorful blur.
River insists we start with food, leading us on a tour of his favorite stands.
We share paper boats of crispy fries topped with melted cheese, corn dogs dipped in honey mustard, and slices of pizza loaded with toppings I can’t even identify.
“You have to try this,” Levi says, holding out a lopsided funnel cake drowning in powdered sugar and strawberry sauce.
I take an obedient bite and nearly moan as the sweet, fried dough melts on my tongue.
“Oh my God,” I mumble around the mouthful.
“That’s dangerous.”
“The best things usually are,” he says with a wink, using his thumb to wipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the corner of my mouth.
The casual touch sends a spark of electricity through me.
What’s going on with me?
I’ve never been this sensitive, this reactive to simple touches.
After food, Atlas leads us to a row of carnival booths.
“Prepare to be amazed,” he tells me, rolling up his sleeves as he approaches the shooting gallery.
I try to focus on his words, but my brain short-circuits the second those sleeves go up.
His forearms are all muscle and strength, the kind that makes you feel how capable he is.
There’s just something about a man with rolled-up sleeves that is dangerous, casual, and cocky in all the right ways, and apparently, it’s my fatal weakness.
I’m gawking. Unashamed.
Because honestly? A man with his sleeves rolled is a billion times hotter than one without.
Don’t ask me why. It’s primal.
It’s powerful. And right now, it’s all I can do not to drool.
“Humble, isn’t he?” Levi murmurs close to my ear, his breath stirring the hair at my temple.
I suppress a delicious shiver.
Atlas hands over some tickets and picks up the air rifle, his stance confident and damn, way too sexy.
I don’t even try to hide it as my gaze drops to his ass, perfectly hugged by those tight blue jeans.
I watch, oddly mesmerized, as he hits target after target, his focus incredible.
There’s something undeniably attractive about his concentration.
When he finishes, earning a perfect score, the booth operator grudgingly gestures to a row of oversized stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling.
“Winner gets to pick a prize,” Atlas states, turning to me with a satisfied grin.
“Your choice.”
I blink, surprised.
“For me?”
“Who else?” he says, as if it’s obvious.
I scan the options, oddly touched by the gesture, and point to a plush wolf with impossibly soft-looking fur.
“That one.”
The booth operator hands it down, and Atlas presents it to me with a flourish.
“Your wolf, my lady.”
“Thank you,” I say, hugging the silly thing to my chest. It’s been years since anyone won me a carnival prize.
The last time was probably with my grandmother when I was thirteen.
“My turn,” River announces, dragging us toward a strength-test game with a hammer and bell.
He makes a show of stretching before taking the hammer, winking at a small group of children watching nearby.
“Witness greatness, kids,” he says with theatrical seriousness, then brings the hammer down with impressive force.
The puck shoots up the tower and strikes the bell with a satisfying clang.
The children cheer, and River takes a mock bow before selecting another stuffed animal, this one a tiger with an improbable purple stripe, and adding it to my collection.
“Not to be outdone,” Levi says dryly, leading us to a game involving throwing baseballs at stacked milk bottles.
Unlike the others, Levi takes his time at the game, circling the booth to examine the setup from different angles.
His gaze narrows slightly.
His first throw sails just past the edge of the pyramid, missing by mere inches.
“Ohhh, so close!” River calls out, hand cupped around his mouth like a megaphone.
“The notorious Levi first-throw curse strikes again!”
Atlas chuckles, crossing his arms. “Every time. You’d think after five years he’d have figured out you always throw too high on the first shot.”
“Says the man who couldn’t hit water if he fell out of a boat last year,” Levi responds dryly, but there’s a spark of competitive fire in his eyes I haven’t seen before.
“That was because of the wind!” Atlas protests with mock outrage.
“And I had the sun in my eyes.”
“It was cloudy, and the booth was covered,” River stage whispers to me, earning a glare from Atlas.
“Twenty bucks says you can’t knock them all down with your remaining throws,” Atlas challenges, changing the subject.
Levi’s mouth quirks up at one corner.
“Make it fifty.”
“You’re on.”
I watch, fascinated, as he adjusts his stance ever so slightly.
The teasing seems to fuel him rather than throw him off.
He takes a measured breath, then releases the second ball with a powerful throw.
It connects with the bottom right bottle with a thwack, sending the entire structure wobbling, but three bottles remain standing.
“You got this, Levi,” I encourage, bouncing on my toes and hugging the stuffed prizes in my arms.
“Last throw, Wolfe,” River singsongs.
“No pressure, but Emma needs that stuffed bear to complete her collection.”
Levi’s eyes flick to me, and I give him an encouraging smile.
“You are going to smash it,” I tell him.
That earns me a full smile that transforms his entire face.
He turns back to the booth, ball in hand, takes one more look, then throws with ferocity.
The ball hits the exact center of the remaining bottles, sending them flying with such force that one nearly takes out the booth operator’s hat.
“Physics,” Levi says simply, accepting a crisp fifty-dollar bill from Atlas with a satisfied nod and a stuffed bear wearing glasses and a bowtie from the impressed operator.
He presents the bear to me with a small bow.
“ For you, my sweet thing. I believe the proper terminology is ‘boom’.”
River howls with laughter, slapping Levi on the back.
“Did you just trash talk? Our Levi? Atlas, I think we’re witnessing evolution in real time!”
I accept the bear, balancing the growing mountain of plushies in my arms. “Thank you,” I murmur, rising on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his cheek.
His skin is warm against my lips, and I linger a moment longer, inhaling his clean, distinctive scent, loving how he smells.
When I pull back, there’s a flush on my cheeks.
And with each of the Alphas watching me, I say, “These are getting a bit unwieldy,” I admit as the wolf slides sideways, threatening to topple the entire stuffed animal tower in my arms. The carnival prizes are big, each nearly the size of my torso, and I’m starting to resemble a walking plushie shop.
“I’ve got it,” Atlas states, plucking the wolf from my stack before it can fall.
“And I’ll take this handsome fellow,” River adds, rescuing his tiger.
“Can’t have him suffering the indignity of hitting the ground.”
Levi carefully adjusts the bear in my remaining arm.
“Better?”
“Perfect,” I reply.
“Though if you guys win me any more prizes, we might need to rent a van just for stuffed animals.”
“Speaking of which, let’s put these in the truck,” River suggests, already cradling his tiger.
By the time we’ve put the gifts away, we start working our way through half the game booths.
I’m smiling despite everything.
It’s been so long since I’ve just had fun, since I’ve let myself be silly and carefree without worrying about deadlines, relationships, or the constant pressure to be enough.
“Having a good time?” Atlas asks, his deep voice sending butterflies through my stomach as he steps close enough that our arms brush.
The casual contact shouldn’t affect me so strongly, but my skin prickles with awareness where we touch.
I nod, surprised to realize it’s true.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks for this. For all of it.”
He studies me for a moment, his gaze lingering on my lips before returning to meet my eyes.
It’s the same hungry look from last night on the balcony.
“You deserve good things, Emma,” he admits, voice dropping lower, for my ears only.
His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of my neck.
“You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you smile and laugh like this.”
The heat of his palm lingers against my skin, and I find myself unconsciously leaning toward him like a flower seeking sunlight.
My pulse quickens as he steps even closer.
For a wild moment, I think he might kiss me right here, surrounded by carnival games and cotton candy stands.
“I keep thinking about last night,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw.
“The taste of you. The sounds you made.”
Heat floods my face, and lower, much lower, at the slick that seems to respond instantly at the first sign of an Alpha’s attention.
“Atlas,” I whisper, not sure if I’m warning him off or begging for more.
A slow, predatory smile curves his lips.
“Don’t worry. I can be patient when the prize is worth waiting for.”
Before I can come back with a response to that loaded statement, River calls us over, having apparently won the ride debate with Levi.
Atlas’s hand slides down my arm as he steps back, his fingers tangling briefly with mine in a touch that feels more intimate than it should.
“Coming?” he asks.
“Not yet,” I tease sarcastically with a wink, enjoying the flash of surprise in his eyes.
The smirk on Atlas’s face is wicked.
“The Scrambler, then we work our way up to the big stuff,” River announces, already pulling me toward the carnival rides and breaking my hold with Atlas.
The Scrambler looks like a giant metal octopus, its long arms extending from a central hub, each tipped with a small two-person car painted in garish primary colors.
As we approach, I watch the current riders shrieking with laughter as centrifugal force flings them outward while the entire structure spins, creating a dizzying double rotation.
Looks exciting.
“Two per car,” the operator announces as we reach the front of the line.
River immediately tightens his hold on my arm.
“I call dibs on Emma for this one!” His possessive enthusiasm makes me laugh as he tugs me toward a red car.
“Try not to traumatize her with your screaming,” Levi calls after.
“That was ONE time,” River protests over his shoulder.
“And it was a wasp, not the ride.”
We slide into the narrow seat, thigh to thigh.
River practically vibrates with excitement, bouncing slightly in his seat as the safety bar lowers across our laps.
“Fair warning,” he says with a mischievous grin.
“I’m a bit of a Scrambler enthusiast. I know exactly how to maximize the spin.”
“Why does that sound terrifying?” I ask, but I’m smiling.
“Trust me,” he winks.
“It’ll be the most fun you’ve had with your clothes on.”
I burst out laughing at his outrageous flirtation.
Across the ride, I spot Atlas and Levi settling into a blue car, both looking amusingly oversized in the small space.
The ride lurches into motion, starting with a gentle spin that gradually increases in speed.
River wasn’t kidding; he seems to know exactly how to time his movements, leaning into the turns to amplify the force.
“The trick,” he shouts over the ride’s music, “is to work with the physics, not against it!”
“You sound like Levi!” I yell back, gripping the safety bar as we pick up speed.
River throws his head back with a laugh.
“Don’t tell Levi I understand physics. I’ve spent years cultivating my pretty but dumb persona!”
With the next turn, he demonstrates by pushing slightly against the outer edge of the car, causing us to spin more dramatically.
“Holy shit!” I shriek, half terrified and half exhilarated, as the world becomes a dizzying blur of colors and lights.
“What did you do?”
“Magic!” River grins wickedly.
“Want more?”
“You’re insane!” I shout, but I’m laughing too hard to clearly sound convincing.
“That’s not a no!” he calls back, timing another push perfectly with the ride’s rotation.
This time, the force slams me against him with enough power to knock the breath from my lungs.
“If I throw up on you, it’s your own fault!” I gasp, clinging to his arm as the ride whips us around again.
“Worth it!” he declares, his eyes bright with mischief.
“Besides, you’re having fun! Admit it!”
“I admit nothing!” I admit, even as another burst of laughter escapes me.
“Except that you’re trying to kill me!”
River’s arm comes around my shoulders, his body warm and solid against mine.
He laughs right along with me as we spin, his joy as infectious as his smile.
“Is this how you impress all the girls?” I demand as we careen around another turn.
“Spin them until they can’t tell if they’re dizzy from the ride or your charm?”
“Only the special ones,” he says with a wink, somehow managing to look roguishly handsome despite being flung around like a rag doll.
“Is it working?”
“Ask me when the world stops spinning,” I retort, but I can’t keep the smile from my face.
There’s something freeing about River’s enthusiasm, his ability to find joy in the moment without overthinking it.
As we spin faster, I surrender to the chaos, letting out a whoop that matches River’s.
For these few minutes, I forget everything, the fire, the police interview, my complicated feelings about three Alphas who shouldn’t affect me this way.
There’s just the wind in my hair, the thrill of speed, and River’s presence beside me.
“Look at those two!” he yells, nodding toward Atlas and Levi.
Their car spins past ours, and I catch a glimpse of Levi’s normally composed face transformed by laughter as Atlas, looking slightly green, grips the safety bar with white knuckles.
“Atlas hates spinning rides,” River confides in my ear during a brief moment when our car slows.
“But he refuses to admit it.”
This new knowledge endears Atlas to me even more.
As the ride reaches its maximum speed, River pulls me closer, one hand protectively bracing me against the force of the spin.
Despite his playful demeanor, there’s strength in the arm around me, his body a solid presence in the spinning chaos.
When the ride finally slows, we’re both breathless with laughter.
River helps me out of the car with a theatrical bow, then turns to Atlas and Levi as they approach.
“Atlas, my friend, you’re looking a little pale there,” River teases.
“Should we do the Tilt-A-Whirl next?”
Atlas glowers at him.
“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
“He once threw up on the Scrambler,” Levi informs me quietly.
“We’ve never let him forget it.”
“Traitor,” Atlas mutters.
By the time I stumble off more rides, dizzy and laughing, the sun is beginning to set.
The festival transforms as darkness falls, strings of lights illuminating the pathways between booths and rides.
The atmosphere shifts subtly, becoming more intimate, more magical.
It’s gorgeous, in truth, and I can’t believe we’ve been here so long already.
Atlas seems equally hesitant to let me go, his hand lingering at my waist as we exit the ride on slightly wobbly legs.
“One more ride,” River suggests, his eyes gleaming with mischief in the colorful lights.
“Then we hit the food stands again.”
He points to a structure set slightly apart from the main rides—a tunnel of love.
It’s charmingly retro, with oversized swan-shaped boats that disappear into a darkened building decorated with heart-shaped lights and cheesy cupid statues.
“Seriously?” I laugh.
“That’s so corny.”
“Exactly,” River agrees.
“Which makes it perfect. Plus, it’s air-conditioned in there.”
The idea of cool air is actually appealing.
I’ve been feeling increasingly overheated all day, and not just from the summer temperature or the proximity of three attractive Alphas.
“Fine,” I concede. “Who’s riding with me?”
“Me,” Levi bellows first and loudly.
“You are mine .”
I shake my head, giggling at their enthusiasm, though secretly, I can’t get enough of their closeness, their touches.
“Shall we?” Levi asks.
I take his arm, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach at his touch.
“Why do I feel like I’m being set up?”
“Because you’re perceptive,” he replies as we join the short line for the ride.
Atlas and River are behind us.
When it’s our turn, Levi helps me into one of the swan boats, then settles beside me.
The seat is decent-sized with lots of legroom.
“Comfortable?” he asks as our boat starts to move, gliding smoothly into the dark tunnel river.
“Mmm,” I reply noncommittally, aware of him pressed against my side.
The darkness seems to amplify his presence.
As the ride progresses, we pass through different scenes—animatronic couples in various romantic settings from various fairy tales, twinkling lights meant to represent stars, paper maché trees with carved hearts.
It’s cheesy and ridiculous and should be making me laugh.
Instead, I’m increasingly distracted by the heat of Levi’s body next to mine, the way his thumb absently strokes my shoulder, and the solid strength of his thigh against mine.
My heart races, and there’s a building pressure low in my belly that’s becoming harder to ignore.
“Have you been to many summer festivals?” I ask, desperate for distraction, his face covered in shadows from the dark ride.
“A few,” he answers, his voice low.
“This one’s special, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re here.”
The simple statement shouldn’t affect me so strongly, not to mention it’s super corny, yet it sends a wave of heat through me that settles between my thighs.
It’s not just attraction anymore; it’s something more urgent, almost painful in its intensity.
I shift closer to him under the pretense of adjusting my position in the small boat.
My hand lands on his thigh, and instead of removing it, I let my fingers trace small circles against the denim of his jeans.
The muscle beneath tenses immediately.
His breath catches audibly.
“Keep touching me like that,” Levi murmurs, his voice dropping to a growl I’ve never heard from him before.
“And I can’t be responsible for what I’ll do next.”
The threat should frighten me.
Instead, it sends another rush of heat straight to between my thighs, and my nipples tighten.
My body is betraying me, responding to him with savagery.
I look up at him through my lashes, feeling reckless, dangerous.
“Is that a promise?” I ask, my fingers continuing their teasing path higher up his thigh.
His expression is raw hunger.
His hand wraps around my wrist, stilling my fingers on his thigh.
For a moment, I think he’s going to push me away.
Instead, he guides my hand higher, letting me feel exactly what I’ve been searching for beneath his jeans.
“This is what you’re causing,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I breathe, the word escaping before I can stop it.
My fingers curl around his hardness as much as his jeans will allow, and his jaw clenches at my touch.
Our boat rounds a bend, slipping into a darker section of the tunnel designed for the themed events.
I turn toward him fully, my free hand finding the back of his neck, tugging him down to me.
The swan-shaped seat is high enough to conceal us, and with River and Atlas behind us, I know they can’t see us.
Our lips crash together, fierce, demanding, almost desperate.
He tastes like cinnamon and heat, his tongue claiming my mouth with a dominance that makes me whimper.
His hands find my waist, lifting me effortlessly until I’m straddling his lap in the small boat, facing him.
The position brings us intimately close, the hard length of him pressing against my drenched pussy through our clothes.
I rock against him instinctively, seeking friction and relief from the burning need consuming me.
The itch is so deep, so insistent, I feel like I might scream out with frustration.
“Fuck,” he growls against my mouth, the curse shocking from his usually precise lips.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I challenge, nipping at his lower lip.
His hands tighten on my hips, guiding my movements against him as his mouth trails fire down my neck and farther down.
He pulls my shirt lower, so he’s just above my nipple, kissing me.
Then he bites down, not hard enough to mark, but enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through me.
I gasp, my back arching, pressing my breasts against him.
One of his hands slides up my side to cup the weight of my breast through my shirt, thumb brushing over the hardened peak.
Even through layers of fabric, the touch is electric.
“I’ve thought about this since the moment I saw you,” he confesses against my throat, voice rough with desire.
“Wondered how you’d feel in my arms, how you’d taste on my tongue.”
His words are as arousing as his touch.
I rock harder against him, chasing the building pressure.
“Levi,” I moan softly, ignoring the mechanical scenery we pass.
I feel his smile against my skin, predatory and pleased.
“I love you begging.”
His mouth finds mine, and we’re kissing again like the world around us is on fire.
Unlike Atlas’ s consuming passion, Levi’s kiss is deliberate and almost planned out.
It’s devastatingly effective.
Within moments, I’m melting against him, a whimper escaping me as his tongue slides against mine.
I’m on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more.
I’ve never experienced a desire like I do with these Alphas, so overwhelming, so all-consuming.
Before I fully register what I’m doing, I slide from my seat to kneel on the floor where there’s extra leg room of the boat, between Levi’s legs.
His sharp intake of breath is the only indication of surprise.
“Emma,” he growls. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I interrupt, my hands already working on his belt.
“Please, Levi. Let me.”
In the darkness, I can barely see his expression, but I feel the tension in his body, the rigid control he’s maintaining.
“Are you sure?”
In answer, I slide my hand into his now-open pants and beneath his boxers, wrapping my fingers around the thick length I find waiting for me.
He hisses in pleasure, the sound sending a thrill straight through me.
He’s impossibly hard, yet there’s a velvety softness to him that makes my touch feel electric.
As I stroke him, my fingers don’t quite meet around his girth, and the sheer size of him makes my breath catch.
Then I feel that swollen bulge near the base of his shaft.
The knot. Unique to Alphas, meant for one purpose, and definitely not something meant for a mouth.
Still, it never fails to amaze me just how differently Alphas are built, how everything about them feels designed to claim, to mark, to keep.
Even just touching it sends a fresh flush of heat through me, as if my body instinctively recognizes what that knot means.
“Fuck,” he breathes, helping me pull his jeans and boxers down to his hips.
He’s breathing quicker, beautiful with the thick and heavy offering in my hand.
I tug him a few times, and he groans.
His hand moves to the back of my head, nudging me closer.
“You’re going to ruin me, sweet thing.”
I don’t hesitate, leaning forward and pressing my mouth over his tip, tasting his saltiness, then slide him deeper past my lips.
I moan around his length, feeling like I have power over him, adoring the way he shakes slightly and how he makes those growling sounds.
I fall into a rhythm that has me taking him deep, then back out, while he’s sucking in sharp breaths.
“Emma,” he grunts as I take him deeper.
“Your mouth... so perfect...”
His words, the strained control in his voice, spur me on.
I use every trick I know, every technique I’ve learned, determined to make this brilliant, reserved Alpha lose his mind for me.
When I hollow my cheeks and swirl my tongue around the sensitive head of his cock, he curses, his thighs tensing beneath my hands.
I feel powerful, desirable, and essential in a way I’ve never experienced before.
I pull free, staring at him, my hand on the base of his cock, the other on his balls, cradling them.
He looks like a man who’s submitted, and fuck, I love the feral look in his eyes as he stares at me.
“You want me to lose control? You want to see what happens when I stop holding back? Keep teasing me like that, and I may not be gentle when I break.”
His words and the strained control threading through them only spur me on.
I tighten my grip and stroke him, twisting my wrist at the top just the way his hips give small thrusts.
I let my thumb drag over the slick head of his cock, circling it slowly, watching his jaw clench as he fights to keep his composure.
He’s trying so damn hard to stay in control, but I want him undone.
Leaning in, I press soft kisses against his abdomen, just above where my hand works him, my breath warm and deliberate.
Every moan he swallows, every tremor that runs through him fuels me.
This brilliant, reserved Alpha might be a master of restraint, but right now, I’m determined to make him lose it.
For me.
So, I take him back into my mouth, deep until it hits the back of my throat.
I pause, tears instantly hitting my eyes as I slowly work him deeper.
“Close,” he warns, his voice rough with restraint.
“Emma, I’m going to…”
I double my efforts in response, taking him as deep as I can, humming around his length in a way that sends vibrations through us both.
He comes with a growl that sounds almost pained, his hand fisting in my hair, holding me down, as he pulses into my mouth.
I swallow everything he gives me, working my throat, feeling strangely triumphant at having broken his careful control.
When I’m done, I ease back onto my heels and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, staring up at the man above me, this Alpha who just came undone with my name on his lips.
His chest rises and falls like he’s been through war, and maybe he has.
I didn’t just please him; I broke his calm composure.
With hands that still shake, I tuck him back into his pants, and he zips himself up as I slide onto the swan ride seat beside him.
The ache between my thighs throbs in protest, hungry and unrelieved, but I don’t regret a second of it.
“That was…” Levi starts, but the words die in his throat.
He looks at me as though he doesn’t know whether to worship me or destroy me.
I smile into the darkness, smug and breathless.
“I know.”
He doesn’t laugh.
No soft chuckle. No returned smirk.
Instead, he leans closer toward me, slow and deliberate.
One arm drapes behind my seat, the other lands heavy on my thigh, fingers pressing into my skin as if he owns it, owns me.
I gasp for air.
His hand moves higher now.
Not teasing but claiming.
“You have no idea what you’ve woken up, sweet thing.” He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath ragged.
“Next time, I won’t let you finish until you’re shaking… and begging me to stop.”
His grip tightens, and I shudder as a pulse of pleasure pulses across the apex between my thighs.
His words linger and tease me deeply.
Not just filthy, but feral.
My breath stutters. Heat blooms under my skin, a flush that starts in my chest and spills upward until even the roots of my hair feel warm.
My thighs instinctively press together, desperate for friction.
My heart pounds, but it’s not fear.
It’s want. Raw. Undeniable.
Then he moves even closer, drawing me against him.
“I’m going to make you mine, Emma,” he murmurs, his voice low, reverent, and lethal all at once.
It shouldn’t feel like a vow, but it does.
I feel it in the way his fingers grip my waist like I might disappear if he lets go.
In the way his gaze burns into me, not just seeing me but claiming me.
I swallow hard, my body thrumming with heat, my brain slow to catch up.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I lean into him instead, my fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt like I need him.
The swan ride glides out of the tunnel, golden light washing over us once more.
And just like that, the world feels too bright, too exposed.
My cheeks are on fire.
I must look wrecked, with everything I felt on my knees between his legs.
People mill around the boardwalk, unaware.
But Levi? He hasn’t taken his eyes off me .
And I know, without a doubt, he meant every word.
We step out of the boat, and Atlas and River climb off after us.
The sudden light is disorienting after the darkness, and I blink rapidly, hoping my appearance doesn’t broadcast what we’ve been doing.
“Enjoy the ride? Didn’t realize there were so many growls in the ride’s audio,” River teases, raising an eyebrow.
I instantly blush, glancing away from him.
God, they heard Levi.
“Very educational ride,” Levi replies with remarkable composure, though there’s a flush high on his cheekbones, and his normally neat hair is messed.
Atlas’s eyes meet mine, dark and knowing, and the heat in his gaze sends another pulse of need through me.
What is happening to me?
I’ve never been this wanton, this unable to control my desires.
As we walk away from the ride, Levi’s hand at the small of my back, I catch a glimpse of our reflection in a game booth mirror.
My lips are swollen, my cheeks flushed, my eyes bright with lingering arousal.
I look... different.
Wild, almost.
A terrible suspicion begins to form in my mind, a quiet dread curling at the edges of my thoughts.
I’ve been brushing it off all day, blaming the heat, the adrenaline, and the relentless pull I feel toward the three Alphas shadowing my every step, but something’s not right.
My skin feels too hot.
My scent’s thickening.
Every glance, every breath of their pheromones has my body reacting like it knows something I don’t.
No. It can’t be heat.
That’s not possible.
My heat isn’t due for weeks.
It’s been regular, every six months like clockwork.
I prepare for it. I have to be ready.
Other Omegas are different.
Some go years before their first heat, while others flare up unpredictably, especially after prolonged exposure to Alphas.
But mine? Mine’s always been stable.
Predictable. Manageable.
Last time, Chad was there, and even if it was a hollow experience, at least it followed the usual pattern.
He’d knotted me, sure, but with all the passion of a routine chore.
No intimacy. No tenderness.
Just... obligation. And even then, the symptoms had been mild.
Controlled.
This, whatever this is, feels entirely different.
My body is reacting too fast, too intensely.
It has to be something else.
The Alphas. Their pheromones.
Their constant, overwhelming presence.
My grandmother used to say, “If you spend too long near Alphas, your body will start answering to them whether you want it to or not.”
That must be what this is.
A hormonal fluke. Proximity overload.
A trick of my body responding to their dominance, not to the cycle.
That’s all it is.
It’s not heat. It can’t be.