10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Leah
T he sounds start small. Nothing more than a catch in my throat, but it grows into something I can't swallow and, oh Gods, I can’t let them hear me.
I press my face into the sopping pillow, pushing so hard the material nearly suffocates me because I never, never , lose control like this.
Not even in the basement at Haven. Nor in my cell at the facility.
I stuffed every drop of blistering emotion beneath the fury that kept me strong.
The rage that kept me fighting. Kept me quiet so I didn’t show the guards, or Hardwick, or Wallace, what they really did to me.
I refused to give them that satisfaction.
Silent defiance was all I had left. They stripped away everything else. It was the only part of myself I could still claim.
And now that’s slipping away too.
The cotton goes cold against my mouth as muffled sobs tear from me anyway. I twist my fists in the fabric. My legs draw tight until I’m curled into a ball. Snot and tears run together, soaking through the material. I choke them down, but the harder I fight, the worse the sounds get.
Staying angry was easy.
Anger was something to stack between me and everything that wanted to break me. Rage kept out hope because I had none. It gave me rules when everything was chaos. I could count on the burn of it, but now, suddenly, I’m not at Haven or the facility and there is no structure anymore.
There are Alphas.
Who talk and not bark at me.
Who listen and not demand.
Who wait for answers I don’t want to give.
And I… I don’t know how to fucking take them.
I reach for familiar fury, try to stoke it, but all I find is a scorching twister inside my head.
My thoughts crash into each other. Run. Fight.
Scream. Give in. I’m safe, but not. Free, but trapped.
Maybe this is what safety feels like. Unbearable.
Unstructured. Nothing but soft things too fragile to grip.
I don’t know how to want comfort. I don’t know what I’ll become if I let the anger go, if I drop my guard and let this ache show.
A strangled whimper escapes me, and the air shifts. Their tension bleeds through the wood. There’s a sixth sense, an extra awareness that’s unfolded between us from the moment I first scented them, and I can’t turn it off.
I want to hide.
There’s nowhere to go.
Ronan’s voice comes through the door, all gravel and instant heightened focus. "Tell us what you need, Kitten."
You. I need you .
But I can’t say those words. There’s no way that makes logical sense.
I don’t know them. They’re a threat. An enemy.
I just want to be left alone. I want this to all go away so I can just breathe, but I can’t because I ache for the relief I know they can give me.
I crave their essences. Their bodies. Their care.
The way they call to the stolen parts of me and promise to put me together.
It doesn’t even make sense, yet it makes perfect sense.
I want to bury myself in them, let them numb the hurt and burn the panic.
I want the weight of arms that will hold me together, even just for a heartbeat.
I want the nest Gabriel and Jax built without questions or demands.
The softness that says rest, care, kindness, comfort and not punishment.
I want everything I’ve been told I shouldn’t want and can’t have.
I want their cocks and their knots and their purrs. I want them to fuck me to take away the blades shredding my abdomen.
I want to feel anything other than wrecked .
I want to feel wanted. Cherished. Cared for.
I want to be fucking loved .
I want all of that. I want every last drop of it and yet…
Yet…
I can’t let myself have it.
The want for all those things is a cavity in my chest, but my ugliness keeps it sharp and empty.
I’m my own gatekeeper. My own jailor, caged in my own cell.
No matter how much I yearn for any good thing, I must deny myself.
My nails dig into the seams of the cushion.
The space between what I need and what I can allow widens, filling with longing.
Longing and shame and utter despair.
I’m a ruined Omega. A mess. I see it with stunning clarity.
But it makes no difference because I can’t do anything about it.
"Leah?" Ronan’s voice booms through the door. A demand and question both but I can’t answer. Not without releasing the hot, jumbled flood jamming against the stranglehold I’m gripping shut with white knuckles and prayer.
A sob slips out anyway .
"No more. I can’t stand to hear you suffer. We’re coming in." A crash echoes through the bathroom, the door slams against the wall and then all three of them barge into the small space.
My breath catches. The biggest predators in the world are within arm’s reach and my mind screams run, but my body isn’t in sync with my physical capabilities. My muscles give out as I lurch upright and then Ronan is there, catching me before I sprawl over the edge of the tub.
I’m enveloped in solid, warm muscle, and masculine fresh pine and air charged with thunder, sharp and clean, grounded by rich soil that makes my eyes cross and my mouth water.
Warm breath brushes my frigid skin as he hauls me from the cold water, wrapping strong arms around me and pressing me hard against him. So broad and solid and warm . "I’ve got you, Kitten."
My abdomen twists in response to his deep rumble and dark promise.
The cramp tearing through me makes me cry out and hot slick gushes between my thighs.
Rose petals tainted with sharp anise bloom in the humid air.
Ronan hardens instantly, an unmistakable bulge thickening against my belly.
His groan vibrates through his chest and spears into me.
Jax’s sweet smoke and the heart of the earth, unfurls in my lungs, thick and earthy, dizzying and homey as he crowds my right.
Gabriel’s zesty citrus and cloves flickers like sunlight over my skin on my left.
The combination tangles with my own, a pulsing lust that shoots through every nerve.
My body aches, arousal flaring as they crowd around me on all sides. A coordinated attack.
"Fuck, you’re too cold," Ronan breathes, his lips at my temple.
Gabriel dips his hand into the tub and lets out a sharp sound. "That water’s freezing, Leah." His eyes find mine, wide with alarm and hunger both.
"Keeping the…heat under control." Now I’m out of the iced water, the cold peels away, replaced with a searing ache and so… Much. Need.
There’s nothing to stop them from taking the release my body is screaming for. I’m living catnip for Alphas. An Alpha trap with a magic pussy. A guaranteed fuck no matter what anyone wants. Biology at its finest .
They’re so close, heat and promise and temptation pressing in. My mind is a blur of hunger and fear, instinct clawing for relief, for touch, for something only they can give. I know what comes next, and this time, there’s no escape. Only the surge of arousal, and their bodies waiting to answer it.
Ronan sets me on my feet. His large hands wrap around my biceps, keeping me upright. "Kitten, let’s get you out of this shirt."
I open my mouth to protest, clutching the hem, but he’s faster, stripping the dripping t-shirt off with one smooth motion.
I stand, naked and exposed, bracing for hands to grab.
Panic stabs through me but then soft terrycloth envelops me.
The fight drains away as Gabriel adjusts the fluffy towel around my shoulders, smiling down at me. "You like that, Sweetheart?"
I blink up at him, but my attention catches on the material, and I can’t help swiping my cheek.
It’s so soft . Heat rises off me, but everything sharp melts into a slow, sleepy comfort.
The towel is big enough to hide inside, and I do, letting it swaddle me as my body tries to remember what safety is.
Jax grins as he watches me bury my cheek in the towel. "She does."
Gabriel settles his bright and easy gaze on me. "Good, because there’s plenty more where that came from."
Ronan slides his arm beneath me, lifting me with no effort and settles me against his chest. "Let’s get you dry."
"Yeah, kitty cats don’t like wet fur. But I do." Gabriel waggles his brows.
I can’t help but shrink into the towel.
Jax shoves his shoulders. "You’re making her uncomfortable, asshole."
Gabriel spreads his palm over his heart. "Too soon?"
" Way too soon, brother," Jax replies.
"That’s enough, you two." Ronan heads out of the bathroom.
I expect him to take me to the nest I want but can’t have, but instead he takes me to the enormous couch in the living room. There’s no sign of the mattress they hauled in from the nest, or the plethora of nesting materials they brought out with it .
Ronan settles on the plush fabric in between hoodies, throw rugs, and a mountain of cushions of all shapes, sizes and colors that have suddenly materialized, and sets me on his lap.
I didn’t see all this before. It looks new.
I spy tags still attached to some of the cushions.
I brace for the usual tightness. The absolute wrongness I associate with softness like this, but… it doesn’t come.
"Where?" I wheeze.
"Just a little impromptu shopping trip." Gabriel shifts on his feet. If a predator lion could look unsure, this is what I’d picture. "But if you don’t like anything, we’ll take it away. I just made a guess as to what might be right for you."
They did this…for me?
I eye the assortment, none of it real nesting material, and my fingers itch to touch.
My perfume blooms with rich, floral sweetness, untainted by the usual bitter edge.
Fear locks my muscles as I dart a glance at Ronan.
If an Omega’s heat doesn’t make an Alpha lose control, nothing will.
But he only tightens his grip slightly, rubbing slow circles over my arms and back.
"Wha…what are you doing?" I ask.