Chapter 11 #2
Heat floods through me without warning. A wave of it, rolling up from my core, and between my legs I feel myself go slick.
All three of them go still.
Ben’s nostrils flare. Milo’s eyes darken. Elijah’s hands curl into fists at his sides.
They can smell me.
Oh god. They can smell me.
“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out, mortified. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—I can’t control—”
“Hey, hey.” Ben’s in front of me suddenly, hands on my shoulders, grounding. “Don’t apologize. You don’t ever have to apologize for that. It’s natural.”
“It’s more than natural,” Milo says, voice rougher than before. “It’s... you smell incredible, Tessa. Don’t be embarrassed.”
“We’re alphas,” Elijah adds quietly. “We can handle it.”
I look up at Ben, still flushed with humiliation. “I don’t think I can wait three days.”
“Then you don’t wait three days.” His thumbs brush my shoulders. “We’ll figure it out.”
“But—”
“Look, it’s not so bad.” A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth. “You’re stuck here with us. And my jokes.”
A surprised laugh escapes me. “Your jokes are terrible.”
“They’re growing on you.”
“Like mold.”
His smile widens—a real one, the kind that transforms his whole face. “See? You’re already feeling better.”
I’m not. But somehow, impossibly, I’m also not feeling worse.
“Come on,” Milo says. “Breakfast first. We can talk through everything after you’ve eaten.”
The tight knot in my throat loosens. Just a little. Just enough that I can breathe.
They’re not panicking. They’re not making this weird. They’re just... here. Steady and warm and present, like this is just another problem to solve together.
I look at the scattered contents of my purse on the bed. At the window full of white. At the three men watching me with patience I don’t deserve.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Okay. Breakfast.”
We eat at the kitchen table, the fire crackling in the other room. Ben’s breakfast is good—really good, actually—and I eat more than I mean to. My body is hungry in a way it hasn’t been in years, some deep animal need that the food barely touches.
Elijah reaches across the table and catches my wrist gently, turning my hand over to check the bandages. “These need changing. I’ll rewrap them after you eat.”
The casual way he says it—like taking care of me is just something he does now—makes my throat tight.
Milo was right about the coffee, though. It’s awful.
“So,” I say, pushing my empty plate away. “What do we do now?”
“Now?” Ben shrugs. “We wait. Not much else to do.”
“I don’t...” I shake my head. “I’ve never learned how to wait. How to just... do nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Elijah says. “It’s resting. You almost froze to death last night. Your body needs time to recover.”
“And your mind probably needs a break too,” Milo adds. “When’s the last time you took a day off?”
I try to remember. I can’t.
“Exactly.” He grins. “So consider this an enforced vacation. No phone, no email, no vendor calls. Just you and a fire and three moderately attractive men to keep you company.”
“Moderately?” Ben raises an eyebrow.
“I’m being humble.”
“You’ve never been humble in your life.”
“Fair point. Devastatingly attractive men.”
I laugh before I can stop myself. It surprises me—this sound bubbling up from somewhere I thought was locked down tight. Milo’s grin widens, and warmth spreads through me that has nothing to do with the fire.
This is dangerous. All of it. The easy banter, the shared meals, the way they keep making me laugh and feel things I’ve spent years trying not to feel. But I can’t seem to stop it.
Maybe I don’t want to.
Milo’s expression shifts, grows more serious. “We should probably talk about what happens when your heat hits.”
My face flames. “Milo—”
“I know it’s awkward. But I’d rather have this conversation now, while you can still think straight, than later when you can’t.” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You have options. And I want you to know what they are before things get... intense.”
I stare at my empty plate. “Okay.”
“Option one: you ride it out alone. We bring you food, water, whatever you need. You stay in Ben’s room and we stay out here. It’ll be rough, but omegas have done it before.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Option two: we help. Hands. Touch. Taking the edge off without...” He clears his throat. “Without going all the way.”
“Option three,” Ben says quietly, “is knots.”
The word hangs in the air. My whole body flushes.
“No biting,” Milo adds quickly. “No bonds. Nothing permanent. Just... helping you through it. If that’s what you want.”
“And if I don’t want any of that?”
“Then we respect it. No questions asked.” Milo holds my gaze. “But I want you to know—whatever you choose—I want you. Not just because you’re an omega in heat. Because you’re you. I meant what I said last night.”
I look at Ben. He nods once. “I’m in. Whatever you need.”
Elijah just holds my gaze—steady, warm, certain—and nods.
Three alphas. All willing. All giving me the choice.
“I don’t know what I’ll want when it hits,” I admit. “I’ve never... I’ve been on suppressants so long. I don’t know who I am without them.”
“Then we figure it out together,” Milo says. “No pressure. No expectations. Just us, here, taking it one step at a time.”
I look around the table. At Milo’s earnest face. At Ben’s quiet intensity. At Elijah’s steady presence.
My whole life, I’ve been alone. Fighting alone. Surviving alone.
Maybe I don’t have to be. Not this time.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.”
“I should...” I stand, needing to move, needing to do something with the restless energy building under my skin. “I need to cool down. Is there—can I splash some water on my face or something?”
“Bathroom’s down the hall,” Ben says. “Towels are in the cabinet under the sink. Water should still run, just won’t be hot without power.”
Cold water. Good. Cold is exactly what I need right now.
I escape to the bathroom and close the door behind me. Lean against it for a moment, breathing.
My reflection in the mirror looks like a stranger. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, lips slightly parted. I look... alive. More alive than I have in months.
And underneath that, something else. Something hungry.
I strip off Ben’s clothes and step into the shower. The cold water hits me like a slap, sharp enough to make me gasp. I force myself to stand under it, teeth chattering, hoping the shock will reset something in my body. Calm the heat building under my skin.
It helps. A little. Enough to think straight for five minutes.
When I get out and dry off, shivering, I realize I don’t have anything else to wear. Just Ben’s clothes, waiting for me on the counter where I left them.
I pull them back on. The flannel settles over my shoulders like a hug, and I breathe in his scent without meaning to. My whole body shivers in response—and not from the cold this time. There’s a slickness between my thighs that wasn’t there before.
So much for that reset.
This is going to be a very long few days.
When I emerge from the bathroom, all three of them are in the living room. Elijah’s adding wood to the fire. Ben’s on the couch, and Milo’s sprawled in the armchair. They look up when I appear, and I feel their attention like a physical weight.
I sink onto the edge of the couch—the opposite end from Ben—and stare at nothing.
Eight years.
Eight years I’ve been taking those pills, suppressing every heat, every biological urge, every instinct that makes me an omega. Eight years of control. Of safety. Of never having to need anyone.
And now it’s all going to come undone because I forgot to put a bottle back in my bag.
“Tessa.” Elijah’s voice, quiet. He’s crouched by the fire, watching me. “You’re shaking.”
I look down at my hands. He’s right. They’re trembling in my lap.
“I’m scared,” I admit, and the words surprise me as much as they surprise them. “I don’t... I don’t do this. Any of this. I don’t let people take care of me. I’ve built my whole life on not needing anyone, and now—”
My voice breaks. I look away, blinking hard.
The couch dips as Ben moves closer. His hand finds mine, careful of the gauze. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
On my other side, Elijah sits down. Close enough that his cedarwood scent wraps around me. Three alphas, bracketing me. It should feel suffocating. Instead it feels like shelter.
“We meant what we said at breakfast,” Milo says from the armchair, voice soft. “All of it. Whatever you need.”
I look at Ben’s hand wrapped around mine. At Elijah’s steady presence. At Milo watching from the armchair, patient and unhurried.
And I do the only thing I can think of.
I lean into Ben’s chest and let myself break. Just a little. Just enough to let them in.
His arms come around me immediately. On my other side, Elijah’s hand settles warm and steady on my back. And Milo moves from the armchair to crouch in front of me, his palm curving around my knee.
Three alphas. Holding me together while I fall apart.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For coming for me.”
“Always,” Ben murmurs against my hair.
“Any time,” Milo adds.
Elijah doesn’t say anything. Just keeps his hand on my back, solid and grounding, saying everything with touch that he can’t with words.
We stay like that for a long moment. The fire crackles. The snow falls. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m not alone.
I have no idea what’s coming. How my body will react or what the next few days will bring. Whether I can really let go of a lifetime of walls and control and fear.
But right now, I’m warm. I’m safe. And I’m not alone.
For now, that’s enough.