Chapter 30
Hayes
Fucking hell, I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough.
The moment I heard from Beck that Lo’s parents were here, with Lo at the cafe in distress, I bolted. I didn’t even think about work. I know how bad Eleanor and Teddy Marsh can be, how much they upset Lo all the time.
I need to get to her. To help her.
Beck is on the way too, but he’s out of town for work. I’m the closest one to her. I need to get there, and fast.
My heart thunders against my rib cage.
By the time I reach the café, the world might as well be moving in slow motion.
People are walking past me, heads down, too wrapped up in their own bullshit to notice the tension in the air.
The noise, the chatter, the bustle of Honeysuckle Grove, it all fades to background noise. It’s just me and Lo.
After looking around and not seeing her, I panic. I rush back outside, slamming through the door and just barely missing a couple trying to walk in. They give me a dirty look as they step around me, but I don’t care.
My nostrils flare. Betas don’t have the same kind of smell as Alphas and Omegas do, but I can pick up the burnt sugar of her anxiety and sadness floating in from my left.
I dart in that direction and round the corner by the alleyway before spotting her immediately, standing there as if she’s waiting for the world to swallow her whole.
Her shoulders are hunched, her head tucked down, and I can see the way her body trembles in the darkness, even from a distance.
And I know she’s crying. No one has to say it. I can tell by the way she’s shaking.
She’s broken.
And I can’t let her be broken alone.
I move toward her, quick but careful. I’ve got to get her out of here, out of this hellhole of a situation.
“Lo,” I declare. “I’m here.”
It’s the only thing I can manage. A lifeline thrown into the storm.
She doesn’t respond at first, just keeps her eyes on the ground, her breath ragged. I hate having to see her like this, that this is what her family has done to her yet again. But I’m here now, and I’m not letting her disappear back into their mess.
“Lo,” I repeat, this time a little louder, my hand reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”
She flinches, just barely, but I don’t let it stop me. I move in front of her, blocking her view of the world around her, of all the crap she’s trying to escape.
Her eyes snap up to mine, raw and red-rimmed, and I can see the disbelief in them. She’s not sure she’s seeing me at all, or maybe she’s wondering if this is another joke life’s playing on her.
“It was awful, Hayes. Mom and Dad… they’re still just miserable people. Why did I even do this?”
She leans her head against my chest as she sobs. I wish I’d been there, I wish I could have helped her, I wish I could have done anything…
But I’m here now.
“Come on, Lo. Let’s get you home.”
I’ll have to get back to my duties at some point, but right now the only thing that matters is my Omega. I can’t leave her alone, not like this.
Never like this.
I guide her away from the café, one arm firm around her shoulders, steering her through the side streets so no one can watch her fall apart. She doesn’t resist, just leans against me, every shaky step tugging at something deep in my chest.
The whole way to the truck, I keep murmuring little things. Nonsense, really. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just a few more steps. Anything to fill the silence that feels too sharp against her ragged breaths.
When I open the passenger door, she climbs in without a word. She’s trembling—not from the cold, but from something deeper. I can smell it before I even get behind the wheel.
Normally, her scent is soft brown sugar with that peach bright note underneath, sweet enough that I’ve lost track of time more than once when she’s near. But now it’s sharper, hotter, the edges fraying, singed with boiling sugar.
I think her suppressants are failing.
Shit.
By the time I start the engine, I can already feel the heat thrumming faintly through the cab, teasing at the edges of my self-control. I grip the steering wheel tighter, forcing my gaze forward. This isn’t about me. This is about her.
“Lo,” I say gently, not looking at her yet. “Your scent’s… different. You feeling okay?”
She swallows hard, her cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window. “It’s nothing. Just… just stress. Suppressants always get weird when I’m upset.”
“Okay,” I murmur, easing us onto the road, though I’m not sure I completely believe her. “We’ll get you home. Rest, water. I’ll stay until you’re steady again.”
Her eyes flick toward me, red and swollen from crying, but still sharp. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.” I chance a glance at her, and the sight of her wrecked but still trying to be strong almost undoes me. “But I want to.”
She doesn’t argue after that. Just curls tighter into herself, one hand pressed to her stomach, trying to hold everything in.
By the time we get home, her scent is filling the cab. I feel so much sympathy for her. The suppressants are barely working—it’s like a dam with cracks running all through it.
Getting her through the front door feels like a small victory. I guide her inside, kick it shut behind us, and steer her toward the couch. She’s pale, eyes unfocused, clinging to my sleeve because it’s the only thing tethering her upright.
“Sit,” I murmur, easing her down. “I’ll get water, then you can…”
The words die on my tongue.
Because right then, her scent breaks.
It doesn’t build gently—it shocks through the room, molten and undeniable, a surge of honeyed, fever-sweet pheromones. I drown in her as I breathe her in.
“Lo—”
She gasps, clutching her chest like she’s been punched from the inside. Her pupils blow wide, her whole body shuddering, and a strangled whimper tears from her throat. The suppressants didn’t taper.
They’ve failed.
Catastrophically.
“Oh no,” she pants, “Hayes, something’s wrong—”
I wrap my arms around her just before she collapses. “I know, I know, beautiful. I’ve got you.”
My arms grip her uselessly for a heartbeat before instinct takes over. I scoop her up, steadying her as another wave wracks her body. Heat sweat slicks her temples already, her pulse hammering under my fingers.
Her scent is everywhere. Filling me and drowning me. Clawing at every rational thought I’m trying to hang on to. I’m a Beta. I’m supposed to be the safe one. The calm one. But with her like this? My mouth waters with the need to taste her.
No. Focus.
“Breathe, beautiful,” I whisper as I move quickly to the bedroom. “It’s okay. Just a few more steps.”
Her eyes, glassy and wild, lock onto mine.
“It hurts,” she chokes out. “Hayes, it hurts so bad. I’m so empty. I don’t want to be empty.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, desperate, and it’s all I can do to settle her into bed.
She gets onto all fours, stumbling about as she tries to crawl toward me.
Every line of her body screams with need.
Heat sweat is already dripping down her face.
My heart slams against my ribs. The room is a furnace, her scent a demand I can’t ignore.
My knees touch down against the edge of the bed as her nails dig into my arms, frantic, and the way she leans into me is pure instinct. Her body is begging for relief. Begging for me. But I don’t have a knot for her.
My calm is cracking fast, her scent clawing past every wall I’ve built.
“Lo…” My voice is already rough, frayed. I mean for it to be steady, but it comes out as a plea.
She whimpers my name in return, broken, and that’s it. That sound guts me. I cup her face, thumb brushing the hot trail of her tears, and then her mouth crashes against mine.
It’s not gentle. It’s desperate, open-mouthed and wet, her fists gripping my shirt like she’ll tear it off if I don’t move fast enough. She tastes of salt and sugar, the burn of her heat laced in every kiss.
“Hayes… please,” she gasps against my lips, and I don’t even know if she knows what she’s asking for.
Doesn’t matter, though.
I know.
I haul her into my lap, her thighs bracketing my hips, and she arches. She can’t stand the space between us. My hands slide up her back, anchoring her as she rocks against me, helpless, her body already trembling with need.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” I whisper, but I break on it, because I’m just as far gone. I need to get to the toy I bought a few towns over when Ford came back with that mating mark on his neck.
She moans when my mouth drags down her throat, when I nip at the flutter of her pulse.
I kiss the mating mark Beck left behind, and the keening sound it pulls from her pulses my cock against the zipper of my pants.
Her head tips to the side as she offers herself to me, and fuck, my control is paper-thin.
She’s slick with sweat and something juicier under my palms, her dress bunched high as I grip her hips.
“More,” she pants, grinding harder against me, her breath ragged. “It hurts, Hayes, I can’t…”
“You can,” I growl before I even realize it, my clothed hips surging up to meet hers.
The sound she makes, wrecked and needy, snaps the last thread of my restraint.
I whip her around and pin her against the mattress, the world narrowing to her wide eyes and the way she clings to me. I’m the only thing keeping her together. She is fire and sugar, all instinct, all demand, and I’m burning with need for her.
“Tell me you want this,” I rasp, my forehead pressed to hers even as my hands shove fabric aside.
Her nails bite into my shoulders, her breath hot and wild against my cheek. “I want you. Please… I need you, Hayes. All of you.”
That’s all it takes.
I shove my pants down, dangling them around my ankles, before I do the same to hers. With one swift motion, her panties are off to the side, and I’m driving into her, hard.
She arches into me like she can’t get enough, and every single one of my thrusts is laced with the sharp edge of desperation.
Every broken sound that rips from her throat tears through me fast as fire.
She writhes beneath me with the same wild hunger, sobbing my name, her body clinging, claiming, demanding I give her more.
More than I thought I had.
It isn’t polished. It isn’t gentle. It’s feral and frantic. Heat and instinct crashing together after years of want, finally snapping loose. And I don’t give a damn if the whole world sees me burn for her. In this moment, she’s mine. Completely.
Her nails rake down my clothed back, sharp enough to sting through the fabric, and it only spurs me harder.
I thrust into her deeper, grinding her down, every movement pulling another wrecked cry from her lips.
I toss her legs over my shoulders, opening her up so that the last inch and a half of me can find its way home.
Her eyes burst open, hazy from her oncoming heat, and I feel her slick flooding my balls and dribbling down my thighs. Her mouth is hot against my throat, teeth catching, and she clings so tight it’s like she’s trying to fuse us together. Like she won’t survive unless I’m buried inside her.
“Hayes, oh god…” Her body arches, straining to take me even deeper.
I choke out a curse, snapping my hips faster, chasing the quiver of her walls around me.
I’m a Beta—I’m supposed to be steady, supposed to soothe, but all of that’s gone, drowned in the blaze of her heat.
What’s left is raw, unrelenting need. Her slick is everywhere, coating me and dripping between us.
“You feel like heaven,” I growl against her ear, my teeth scraping the shell. “So fucking wet for me, beautiful, so goddamn perfect. Take what’s yours. Every fucking inch.”
Her answering whimper fractures into a sob, her nails digging deeper until she’s ripping my shirt over my head, her hips bucking wildly to meet every thrust. I feel her seize around me, tight, pulsing, her whole body bowing beneath mine.
The sound she makes when it hits, the ragged, broken cry of my name, shatters every shred of restraint I have left.
“Hayes!”
She comes undone beneath me, convulsing, trembling violently as the heat rips her apart. I pin her down, fucking her through it, refusing to relent as I swallow every desperate cry and she clutches me tight.
I may not have a knot for her. But I have everything else.
I can’t hold back another second. The drag of her release pulls me under, my vision sparking white as I spill inside her, a guttural groan breaking from my chest as I bury myself to the hilt. Her body clenches around me until I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.
For a moment, there’s nothing but the crash of us. Harsh, uneven breaths, her wrecked whimpers, my heart pounding like it might split my ribs.
Then she’s limp and shaking, her face pressed into my neck. I kiss her temple, her body still trembling, still half lost in the wreckage we’ve made.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, my arms locking tight around her. “I’ve always got you.”
Her fingers curl weakly against my shoulders, holding on. She can’t let go. And even though the room is thick with the scorch of her heat, even though my body’s still reeling from it, I know I’ll keep holding her until it passes.
Even without a knot.
Because the need for a knot is only one part of an Omega’s heat.
And I’m ready to service every other part that I can.