Chapter 11 Red
Chapter eleven
Red
I snuggle into Rickon’s side on the couch in my old room, half listening as he reads articles written about me. Since Zack upended our lives a few months back, we haven’t had time to breathe. But busy as he’s been, Rickon’s still collected articles from every online journalist and news source.
Callisto works at the desk, catching up on his caseload, and now and then when he glances up, our eyes meet. It reminds me of the days we lived together, which were enjoyable so long as he wasn’t badgering me. I guess I missed his presence more than I acknowledged. And his scent.
I inhale deeply, the combination of his rich cherry wood and Rickon’s vanilla giving aromatherapy candle vibes—and I’m in dire need of healing.
My body reacts with warm desire. I don’t remember a lot from my last heat, but I do recall Callisto’s sultry voice telling me how well I was doing on his fist. My belly flares with interest, and I drag my gaze away, reminding myself he’s not my alpha.
Rickon opens the next article on his tablet, and then wraps his arm around me, tickling his fingers over my hip as he reads on.
The fake news about my supposed relationship with Brad blew over fast after our media release.
Mostly the public are curious about my sudden rise to fame and the alpha I keep on a leash.
And since the court case, everyone knows about my humiliating past.
I glance over to the bed, waiting like a sentry for my heat to arrive.
Could be any moment now. The guys and Samantha discussed battle plans in hushed voices while I showered, and I can’t decide if I made the right choice or not.
Back at the House of Bitches, I at least knew exactly what was coming.
Today, everything feels new and I have no idea how my body will respond.
I wriggle, uncomfortable, and then realize the warmth in my belly has spread. Tension grips me.
“You’re okay, omega,” Rickon declares, stroking under my shirt hem.
Fuck, he smells so good. A shiver races through me, and I turn my face into his chest, fighting the first touches of panic.
Rickon plays his fingertips along my ribs. “You smell so good, Biscuit.”
“Yeah?” I ask, a needy whine in my voice. He smells even better, all smooth butter.
Rickon sets the tablet aside and drags me onto his lap, facing him. “Let me rephrase myself. You smell utterly divine, Red Jones.” He moans softly in appreciation.
I dip my head into his shoulder and chuckle. “Divine, huh?”
“Yep. I want to eat you right up like a dessert.” His scent thickens, turning sugary-sweet. A part of me says it’s only an automatic alpha response to my rising fever, but I shut the Negative Nancy voice down. I don’t care. My man wanting me is the most beautiful feeling.
A soft pant escapes my lips, and I lift my head, searching for cooler air.
The room ripples with a foggy film, blurring the two alphas and making the light dance.
Within it lurks the memories of all my previous heats and a choking desire to have just one normal, enjoyable heat.
Would that really be too much to ask? The other Red closes in, her distant banshee screech echoing in my ears.
“Rickon,” I whine, turning to look for exits.
“Come to bed, Biscuit,” he orders gently. While I wasn’t looking, he stripped his shirt, freeing so much scent I can’t handle it. My pussy throbs with sudden, desperate need.
“Bed,” I murmur, glancing over his shoulder.
The double bed with a wooden headboard and white sheets looks harmless enough, but I know from experience that beds can bite. Rickon slides me off his thighs, and I stumble to my feet, torn between desire and fear.
I know I told them to restrain me, but now that I’m here with my skin tight and itchy and a fever turning into an inferno in my belly, I don’t think I can go through with it.
“Maybe not,” I mutter, backing away. Not without Zack.
I knew I needed all my alphas to survive my heat . . . but they aren’t here.
Wild Red whispers in my ear. You can’t do this. They’ll take your haze and leave you lying there. You won’t survive. Let me protect you, like I always have, O-11. Let me break you free.
My back hits a warm mass, and a forest scent drowns out every other thought.
“We’re here for you, Red Jones,” Callisto murmurs in his life-changing silky voice. “Look at your alpha.”
He angles me to face Rickon, who strips the last of his clothes away, leaving him standing pale and naked in the sunlight.
Someone remembered that I hate darkness.
I hiccup. My gaze drops, following the lines of his slender body down to the ravines of his Adonis belt.
Where they meet, his cock rises, already stiff with desire.
I need that inside me, right fucking now.
When I reach for Rickon with a whine, he backs up to the bed before opening his arms. Teasing, pleading, enticing.
I launch myself out of Callisto’s grip, and Rickon catches me.
We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of messy kisses and grabbing hands, and I writhe myself into his body blindly.
If I can just get him inside me, maybe the heat will stall out.
“You’re on top, omega,” he growls out, the slightest touch of domination in his voice. Rickon pressures my hips, his cock maddeningly close to my entrance. “Take what you need, Biscuit.”
I whimper with blazing lust and reach down, grasping his dick. I want it so much that I tremble, and Rickon gasps at my touch. Kneeling over him, I rub my pussy against the length, wetting it with my hot slick. The friction feels dazzling.
Rickon rewards me with a deep moan, and his belly twitches. I’d love to tease him some more, but I really might die if I don’t get relief for the burning ache blooming inside, so I straddle my alpha and slide his rigid dick home between my legs.
One, two thrusts and an orgasm breaks over me hard, stealing my breath.
Something metallic clicks, and I look up through my labored pants to find Callisto securing a padded cuff around my wrist.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I huff out, trying to catch my breath and talk at the same time.
“It’s just for a little while,” he promises, eyes glistening. Samantha creeps in through the doorway, a small tray in her hands. Dread squeezes me to bursting point, and Wild Red engulfs me, blurring my vision.
“No!” I scream. “Stop it!” Stop it all. Go away and leave me alone.
Rickon reaches up and pulls me to his chest. “Stay with me, Red,” he orders.
I flail against the cuff, but Callisto’s already locked it to the headboard, stretching my arm out past Rickon’s spiked hair. This can’t be happening.
“Where’s Zack?” I demand through tears. “He’d never do this to me.” I glare at Callisto. “Bring him here. It’s your fault he’s not here!” I lash out with my fist, crossing one arm over the other to reach him.
Callisto takes my hit with a grunt as Rickon pulls me down harder, clinging around my neck like a monkey and wrapping his legs around me. A distant inner voice shouts at myself to stop, but I don’t. Can’t. I rake my nails over his bare chest, grinning when tiny dots of blood well up in the tracks.
The momentary distraction allows Callisto to lock a second restraint around my other wrist, which he quickly clips to the headboard’s right side, spread-eagling my arms.
“You fucking bastard!” I hiss, yanking back. The sting in my wrists is oddly satisfying so I do it again. Pain is preferable to pleasure—that stuff will swallow me whole. I growl at Callisto as he leans over us. “This is why you don’t belong in our pack, you jilting cunt.”
I want to grab the words and shove them back down my throat, and I choke as if they lodge there. But I can’t take them back. Callisto circles behind me, and his tears drip onto my shoulders as he leans in, sandwiching me into his best friend.
I groan and arch. My ass meets resistance, his pants containing a hard-on caused by the pheromones spilling from us.
A whimper escapes me. If only he were naked and I could feel his cock brushing my cheeks.
His weight would shunt me down onto my alpha’s knot.
I writhe instinctively, searching for friction as more heat fever blinds me.
“Remember, Red,” Callisto whispers in my ear, locking his arms over my chest. “You chose to do this for Zack, and for yourself.”
The words filter in through a veil. I’m too busy trying to spread myself onto Rickon’s knot, grinding hard. My alpha’s gasps slide like honey through my ears.
Rickon kisses my exposed arm. “You’re safe, Biscuit. You’re safe.” Sounds so much like our mantra for Zack when we’re out and about. Guess I have more in common with my feral alpha than I recognized.
Someone steps up to my side, and I turn my head to snarl at the unwanted intrusion, my omega instincts turning possessive over the men in my bed. I know her name: Samantha. She covers a silver case with one hand, but memory bites me hard.
“Fuck off, you whore!” I scream. “You’re not having my haze.”
“No one’s taking your haze, Red,” Callisto says right into my ear. His voice is a thing of fucking beauty, and I strain my head back to get closer to him. The bigger alpha covers my clavicle with his arm. “Look. I’m protecting you.”
Protecting? Then why did he chain my hands up? “As if,” I snarl. “I hate you! I hate you all. You’re killing me, one piece at a time, and loving it.”
His grip digs in and he chokes, as if he’s the one crying. “Hate me all you want, baby, but I’m still going to be here for you. I’ll never run out on you again.”
Lies.
Tears blind me, turning the overhead light into a disco ball. But one small fact worms through the blazing inferno. He’s covered my collarbone, so no one’s getting past his forearm.
I slump, sobbing with a force that threatens to tear my chest apart.
Both men tighten their hold, and the needle I can’t see digs into my upper arm. I’m crying too hard even to scream, but a moment later the pressure’s gone.
“You’ll feel better in a minute, Biscuit, I promise,” Rickon rasps out, voice strained. “Can I give you my knot, baby?”
“Y-yes,” I gasp between sobs. “Please!” Fear, lust, and rage combust in a paralyzing concoction within, stealing my ability to move. Wild Red shrieks with unholy rage in my ear, driving out all other thoughts. I can barely breathe through the ruckus.
Callisto shifts away, leaving only his hand on my back, and Rickon writhes his hips up in jerky thrusts. The swollen knob at the base of his cock bunches against my pussy, slipping in my slick. I gasp as the first part wedges in, plugging the part of my soul that feels like it’s cracking open.
Rickon roars and his hips snap up again, and I freeze, mouth open as his knot lodges fully inside me before swelling. It’s fucking heaven, knocking loose Wild Red’s control over my body.
“Alpha,” I whine, a second before the orgasm hits me hard.
Rickon shudders, belly contracting with his release, breathing fast. “Red. I love you, Red,” he says, spasming with aftershocks. His eyes shine with the intensity of what he’s feeling. “Always will.”
And, for the first time during a heat, I hear something I can believe.
I collapse on his chest, sobbing and quivering with the comedown. The fire in my belly softens into a soothing warmth, and my eyelids droop. For a moment I think it’s the power of the knot and orgasm lulling me, but then I remember Samantha sedated me.
I let my head fall onto my alpha’s chest, breathing in his vanilla cake scent. “In my . . . pocket,” I mutter drowsily. And then I slip into oblivion, my heat and consciousness streaming away together as I evade Wild Red’s grasp.