Chapter 35 – SAVVA
CHAPTER 35
SAVVA
F or five seconds, no one breathes. I count the five heartbeats around the table through scent alone, a trick I picked up during my infiltration days. Each alpha's scent shifts in subtle, telling ways.
My own scent rises from my skin like steam—that mix of amber, clove, and old books—now heightened and directed toward the omega who's just dropped this bombshell on us all.
I watch Bella's face as she registers our collective response. Her pupils dilate, nostrils flaring slightly as she processes the chemical conversation happening beyond words. She may be inexperienced with heats, but her omega instincts are spot-on.
She knows exactly what she's just ignited.
Roman recovers first, as befits our leader. He sets his wineglass down carefully. "You're sure?" His voice is steady, though I catch the faintest roughness at its edges.
Bella meets his golden gaze without hesitation. "Yes."
Such a small word for such a big decision. I admire her directness. It speaks to a strength of character that fits our pack perfectly.
Troy, predictably, breaks the quiet with a boyish grin. "Well, I'm not going to argue with the lady."
"For once," Cole mutters, though his good eye never leaves Bella's face.
I take a measured sip of wine, letting the crisp notes clear my palate. "Have you ever built a nest before?" I ask her, setting my glass down.
Bella shakes her head. "No. The suppressants I've been on since presentation never allowed that instinct to fully develop."
"Then we'll need to get appropriate materials," I reply. "The last time we were here, the nearby town had a specialized shop catering to omega needs. I'm sure it's still there."
Liam leans forward, massive forearms resting on the table. "Is a trip to town wise? We could place an order, couldn't we? Security concerns aside, we've only just arrived."
"It's necessary," I counter smoothly. "A proper nest is crucial for heat comfort and neurological regulation. While we can provide some basics from our existing supplies, specialized items will significantly improve her experience."
Roman's expression remains neutral, but I can tell he's weighing options and assessing risks.
"The shop is called Soft Spot," Troy says. When we all turn to look at him, he shrugs those broad shoulders. "What? I pay attention to this shit. You know. Just in case."
"Of course you do," Liam says with a snort.
"It's thorough," Troy continues, undeterred. "Everything from scent-absorbent fabrics to temperature-regulating cushions. They even have special omega chocolates that help with hormone regulation."
Bella's eyes widen slightly at this information. "That sounds... amazing, actually."
"It's settled then," I decide, noting the way Roman's posture shifts minimally toward agreement. "We'll take Bella to get proper nesting materials tomorrow morning."
"We should split up," Roman suggests, already shifting into planning mode. "Two should stay here to secure the perimeter while three escort Bella into town."
I'm already shaking my head before he finishes speaking, a reaction mirrored by every other alpha at the table. The idea of any of us missing this critical preparation—this ritual that will bond our omega more closely to our pack—is simply unacceptable.
"All of us," Cole states flatly, voicing our collective thoughts even though I'm surprised he's willing to go into town. Then again, for our omega, I suppose all things are possible.
Roman's eyebrows rise fractionally. "All?"
"All," Liam confirms. "Not negotiable, Roman."
Our leader surveys the table, taking in the unanimous front we present. After a moment, he inclines his head in acknowledgment.
"Fine," Roman says at length. "But we'll keep an eye on the cameras the entire time."
"On it," I say, more than happy to take on the responsibility.
Bella watches the exchange with fascination, her green eyes moving from one alpha to another. "Is it always like this?" she asks, a slight curve to her lips.
"Like what, little dove?" I inquire.
"So... coordinated. Like you're all parts of the same organism."
"Years of operational synchronicity create certain efficiencies," I explain. "Though I admit it's unusual for us to all be on the same page."
"It's the heat," Troy says bluntly, reaching for his wine. "We're all feeling it. The need to participate in every aspect of your care."
Bella flushes slightly, though she doesn't seem displeased by Troy's directness. "I don't really know what I'm doing, but it feels right to have you all involved."
The trust implicit in her request touches something deeper than mere alpha pride. "Then we'll assist however you need us," I assure her with a dip of my head. "By tomorrow evening, the effects of the suppressants—and being knotted by Cole—will have worn off. You may need two of us, depending on your comfort level."
"Of course, all would be better," Troy says, grinning.
Bella nods, her cheeks still tinged pink. "And during the heat itself? How does that work with... with five of you?"
I consider how best to frame the answer, but Troy beats me to it.
"Rotation," he says simply. "Based on your needs and preferences. Some omegas want different alphas for different heat phases. Others prefer to cycle through the entire pack regularly. Some just do whatever the fuck they want."
"It's entirely instinct-driven," I elaborate. "Your omega will recognize what you need at each moment. Our responsibility is to remain attuned to those cues and respond appropriately—without fighting." My lips curve at one corner. "One of the benefits of having a scent-matched pack is that we're not quite as territorial as other alphas would be."
"We'll respect every boundary you establish," Roman promises her.
Bella's fingertips trace the rim of her wineglass. "What about... after? When it's over?"
"Lots of cuddling," Troy says with a low chuckle. "Feeding you good food, keeping you hydrated, possibly nest maintenance. Whatever makes you feel secure and cared for."
"It sounds like you've all done this before," Bella observes, a question implicit in her statement.
A moment of silence falls over the table.
"Alphas dream of finding an omega, too," Liam says with a slight crooked smile. "We're not all completely clueless. Some of us do our research."
Bella smiles at that, too. "Well… thanks."
Her smile fades into something more contemplative as she continues tracing the rim of her wineglass. The soft clink of her nail against crystal punctuates the expectant silence that has fallen over our group.
I lean forward slightly, attuned to the subtle shifts in her scent and body language. As an infiltration specialist, reading microexpressions is second nature to me, and right now, Bella's entire being radiates everything from uncertainty to desire to being flat out overwhelmed.
I watch as she takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with deliberate slowness. It's a centering technique I recognize—one I've used myself in high-pressure situations. When she speaks, her voice is soft but steady.
"Tonight, I think... I just want to sleep," she says, her green eyes meeting each of ours in turn. "To rest and prepare for tomorrow."
A collective exhale ripples around the table. It's barely perceptible, but to my trained senses, it speaks volumes. There's a hint of disappointment that's quickly masked. We're all riding the razor's edge of control, our alpha instincts straining to claim while our higher reasoning fights to respect Bella's autonomy.
"Of course," Roman says, nodding. "Whatever you need."
But Bella's not finished. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment—a gesture I find endearing each time she does it—before continuing. "But... I'd like to sleep with all of you. If that's okay."
It takes considerable effort to maintain my outward composure, to not let my own hope for that show too plainly on my face.
"All of us?" Troy asks, playful but entirely serious beneath it.
Bella nods. "Just to sleep," she clarifies quickly. "I want... I need to feel safe. Surrounded. But without anything else happening yet. Is that okay?"
The question hangs in the air as we all look at each other. We've shared close quarters before, of course. Military operations and covert missions have often necessitated cramped sleeping arrangements.
But this... this is different.
This is intimate in a way that goes far beyond physical proximity. This is uncharted territory for us all. But I give her a slight nod, my decision already made. The others follow suit.
"It's more than okay," Roman says. "It's... an honor."
The word choice might seem overly formal to an outsider, but I understand the depth of meaning behind it. For alphas like us, hardened by years of combat and covert operations, to be trusted with an omega's vulnerability is no small thing.
"Thank you," Bella says, her smile soft and genuine. "I know this isn't... conventional."
I can't help the low chuckle that escapes me. "Little dove," I say, letting a hint of my native accent color my words, "I believe we left 'conventional' behind the moment we realized we were your scent matches."
This earns me a sweet little laugh from Bella. "Fair point," she concedes, raising her glass in a mock toast.
This week will bring its own challenges.
But for now, at this moment, everything is as it should be.
And that, I realize with a content smile back to her, is enough.