Chapter 33 Willa
THIRTY-THREE
willa
I have never been cozier.
Warmth surrounds me, a cocoon of Alpha. I could die in this feeling. My muscles are jelly, my brain gone soft and hazy under the flood of Alpha pheromones.
An arm drapes over my waist, heavy with sleep, breath tickling the back of my neck in a slow, steady rhythm. The mingled scents of leather, chocolate, and sage wrap around me like a blanket.
Perfect.
My Omega purrs, caught in that liminal space between awake and asleep.
I don’t think anything could pull me from bed—until a loud, growling gurgle erupts from my stomach.
I’m starving.
When I shift, every muscle protests. My thighs, my hips, the ache deep in my core—it’s all deliciously sore. There’s a slick, messy reminder of my heat between my legs, and when I move, I feel exactly how thoroughly they worked me.
“Hey.” It’s Jake’s voice, soft and close. “I can hear you thinking from here.”
I turn my head. The movement takes more effort than it should, like my muscles have forgotten how to work. His brown eyes are warm, and there’s a small smile playing at his lips that makes his dimple appear.
“How long?” My voice comes out in a croak.
“Three days.” His hand comes up, fingers gentle as they brush hair away from my face. The touch sends a small spark of pleasure through me even now, my Omega still hyperaware of Alpha contact. “You’ve been mostly out of it. Your heat was intense.”
Three days.
Memories flash through my mind—fragmented, hazy.
The weight of bodies pinning me to the mattress.
Teeth on my neck. Being stretched and filled and knotted until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel.
The wet sounds of skin on skin. My own voice begging—please, Alpha, more, harder, don’t stop—
Heat floods my face. My scent spikes—embarrassment mixing with buttercups and honey—and Jake’s smile widens.
He leans in, presses a kiss to my forehead, “How do you feel?”
I take inventory. Sore. Definitely sore. There’s a deep ache in my pelvis, in muscles I didn’t know existed. My breasts are tender. When I shift again, I feel the pull of healing bite marks on my shoulders, my neck, the soft swell where thigh meets hip.
But underneath the soreness, there’s something else. Something settled deep in my bones. My Omega isn’t pacing anxiously like she usually does. Isn’t scanning for threats or calculating escape routes. She’s just… content. Sated. Safe.
Like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.
“Good,” I say, surprised to find I mean it. “Really good. Just—”
My stomach growls again, loud and insistent enough that Jake can probably feel it where his hand rests on my waist.
He laughs, that warm, familiar sound that makes my Omega want to curl into him and purr. “Starving?”
“Understatement.”
“Good timing, then. The boys went to get food.”
I push myself up to sitting, and the sheet falls to my waist. The cool air hits skin that’s been pressed against warm bodies for days.
My breath catches. I’m disgusting.
My throat is scratchy-dry, my hair matted to my neck and shoulders, everything saturated with the scent of heat and sex.
“I need a shower. And about a gallon of water,” I groan out.
“Want any help?” he says as he turns over to bury his face in a vacant pillow and closes his eyes. A surge of affection pulses in my chest.
“No, I think I can manage it,” I say, throwing a pillow at him. He just burrows in farther, and for the first time, I wonder if Alphas need nests like Omegas do.
The bathroom light is too bright. I squint, stumbling to the shower and turning it on as hot as I can stand. The pressure is perfect, so I stand beneath it for long minutes, letting the heat beat down on me, rinsing away the last three days clinging to my skin.
My body aches in ways I’ve never experienced. Good aches. Satisfied aches. I wash my hair three times before it finally feels clean. Soap away the dried sweat and slick. Watch the water circle the drain and take the last three days with it.
When I finally emerge, wrapped in a towel with my hair dripping down my back, the cool air hits my overheated skin, and I shiver.
I should put on clothes. But the only ones I have make my skin crawl when I think about putting them on, and I don’t see my bag anywhere. So instead, I drop my towel and crawl back into bed next to Jake.
But not before he looks up at me and sees the state of my body.
He raises his fingers and traces over the marks that are everywhere.
Bite marks on my shoulders and breasts, some still angry red, others already purpling into bruises.
Dark fingerprint-shaped bruises on my hips.
A particularly vivid love bite on the inside of my thigh that makes my face heat just looking at it.
Evidence of being thoroughly worked over… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do another heat alone.
The possessive thrill that runs through me at the sight should probably concern me. Instead, my Omega practically purrs with satisfaction.
Marked. Claimed. They want me.
I look over at Jake and am knocked sideways by the heat that burns in his eyes. As if just the sight of my naked breasts is enough to make him want another round. But I also see the affection, and it’s that adoration that steals my breath.
“This is how it always started with us,” I say quietly, looking at the way he’s propped up on one elbow, watching me with those warm eyes that see too much. “You’d give me that look,” I point at his face, “we’d fuck like rabbits, and then you’d bring me food.”
“Yeah.” His expression softens, and I catch a whiff of his scent—chocolate going warm and sweet with emotion. “But this feels different, right?” he says, flopping on the bed and looking at the ceiling.
“So different.” I reach out, trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips. His stubble is rough against my skin, and he leans into the touch slightly. My Omega notices. Approves. Alpha wants our touch. “Better. So much better.”
He catches my hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a kiss to my palm. “I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “We were kids. We did the best we could with what we knew. And look where we ended up.”
Before he can respond, the door opens. The scent of them, followed immediately by the smell of food, makes my mouth flood with saliva.
Charlie backs in, arms loaded with takeout bags, and my stomach growls again, louder this time.
“I told you I heard her!” Charlie turns, grinning, and the joy in his expression makes something in my chest squeeze tight. “Welcome back, Wills. We weren’t sure what you’d want, so—”
“So we got everything,” Beau finishes, following Charlie in with even more bags, including my overnight bag from the car. Thai food, from the look of the containers, and the smell of curry and lemongrass mingles with the pack scent.
I stare at the growing pile of takeout on the dresser. “That’s… a lot of food.”
“Tacos and Chinese,” Charlie announces proudly, setting down his bags with the enthusiasm of someone presenting a prize.
“And I got Thai. Because apparently we’re feeding an army,” Beau adds, and there’s something in his voice—amusement mixed with fondness—that makes me look closer. His knuckles are still bruised, I notice. Still scabbed over from where he hit Felton.
The evidence of him defending me sends a spike of pure possessive satisfaction through my Omega.
“You guys are ridiculous. Tacos, Chinese, and Thai? That’s the weirdest combination I’ve ever heard.” I can’t help it—I start laughing.
“Hey, we didn’t know what you’d be craving.” Charlie’s grin is unrepentant, his scent going warm with pleasure at making me laugh. “This way, you have options.”
“Options,” I repeat, still laughing, and my scent must be brightening because all three of them lean in slightly, drawn to the sound, to the happiness in my pheromones. “There’s no way I can eat all of this.”
“Never took you for a quitter,” Charlie says just as Beau adds, “Not with that attitude.”
Beau moves to the bed, settling behind me and pulling my freshly scrubbed nakedness into the cradle of his thighs. All that Alpha presence gives me shivers as he presses a kiss to my temple.
My Omega practically melts at the contact, at his scent wrapping around me. “But we’ll help. Come on, let’s get you fed.”
They arrange everything on the bed—a ridiculous spread of pad Thai and curry, along with tacos, orange chicken, and spring rolls. Jake helps me into one of their shirts—Beau’s, I realize immediately from how it swallows me and carries his scent right against my skin.
My Omega approves intensely. Wearing my Alpha’s clothes… yes, please!
I eat like I’m starving, while they watch with an intensity that should make me self-conscious but doesn’t. Charlie keeps passing me different dishes to try, his hand leaving a lingering touch on some part of my body.
Jake makes sure my water glass stays full, refilling it before I even ask. Beau sits with me wedged between his thighs, maintaining constant contact like he can’t bear to not be touching me.
I fucking love it.
“Willa,” Beau says quietly, and his hand wraps around my middle, pulling me impossibly close. I get the feeling I’m not going to like what he says next.
“We need to talk about what happened. About Felton.”
My hand freezes halfway to my mouth, taco suspended in mid-air. The food in my stomach suddenly feels like lead. My Omega goes still, tense, ready to flee or fight.
“You don’t have to,” Charlie adds quickly, and I can smell the worry in his scent now, the desire to comfort. “Not if you’re not ready. But—”
“But we’d like to know.” Jake’s hand finds mine, squeezes. His scent wraps around me—warm chocolate with an edge of protective steel underneath. “All of it. So we know the best way to protect you.”
My Omega is torn, wanting to run from this conversation but also desperately wanting them to understand. I can’t stop the hope that rises in my chest when I look at them and think that maybe they can help.