Chapter 11 #3
"I didn't want this," I whispered, even as my body arched into his touch against my will.
"I didn't agree to be claimed." Mason pulled back to look at me, and through the bond I felt a flicker of something, not guilt, exactly, but acknowledgment.
He'd known. He'd always known I wouldn't agree to this.
That's why he'd done it during the heat, during an orgasm, when I was too overwhelmed to stop him.
"You would have fought it forever," he said softly, stroking my hair as his knot pulsed inside me. "You would have let yourself suffer rather than accept what you are. What we are to each other."
"That was my choice to make," I spat, but the venom was undermined by the tears still streaming down my face. By the way the bond was humming with contentment despite my horror. By the way my Omega was purring, happy and satisfied, while the rest of me screamed.
"I know," he admitted, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Through the bond, I felt his certainty—his absolute conviction that this was the right thing to do. That I would understand eventually. That I would forgive him. "But I couldn't watch you destroy yourself anymore. None of us could."
The knot pressed against my g-spot, triggering another orgasm I hadn't expected and definitely didn't want.
I wailed, my walls spasming around him, milking his knot as he filled me with jet after jet of hot seed.
Through the bond, I felt his pleasure layering on top of mine, creating a feedback loop that made the orgasm stretch on and on until I thought I might die from it.
"Alpha," I whimpered, hating myself for the word, hating that I couldn't stop it from falling out of my mouth. "Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—"
"Shh," he soothed, his hand stroking my hair as his knot pulsed inside me.
"I've got you. Your Alpha's got you. You did so well, taking my claim.
Such a good Omega." I should have kept fighting.
Should have raged against the bond settling into my bones, the foreign presence taking up residence in my mind, the knot tying me to him so completely.
Should have screamed and clawed and made him regret what he'd done.
Instead, I was too tired. Too overwhelmed. Too thoroughly defeated by biology and betrayal.
I wrapped my arms around him and cried. We stayed like that for a long time, knotted together, his tongue occasionally licking at the wound on my neck.
Every lap sent sparks of pleasure through the bond, making me shiver and clench around him whether I wanted to or not.
The claim burned—a hot, throbbing ache that I knew would leave a scar.
A permanent mark. Evidence that I belonged to him now, that he'd taken something from me I could never get back.
Through the bond, I could feel how happy he was.
How complete. How he'd been waiting for this moment for years and it was even better than he'd imagined.
He felt no guilt. No remorse. Just satisfaction and love and possessive joy.
I hated that some traitorous part of me was responding to his happiness.
That the bond was working exactly as designed, making me feel echoes of his contentment even as my mind rebelled.
"I love you," Mason murmured against my neck, pressing a soft kiss to the fresh claim mark. His knot pulsed inside me, still keeping us locked together. "I've always loved you. And now you're finally mine."
"You had no right," I whispered back, my voice hoarse from screaming. "I said yes to the sex. Not to this."
"I know," he said, and he didn't apologize.
Didn't explain. Just held me tighter, like that made it okay.
Like love justified everything he'd done.
Through the bond, I felt his certainty wash over me—his absolute belief that this was what was best for me, that I would come to see it his way, that one day I would thank him for this.
It made me sick. Eventually, after what felt like hours, the knot began to deflate. Mason pulled out slowly, gently, and I whimpered at the loss despite myself. I felt empty without him, achingly empty, and I could feel his cum leaking out of me, trailing down to pool on the sheets beneath me.
"You did so well," he praised, stroking my hair back from my sweat-damp face.
He pressed soft kisses to my cheeks, my forehead, the corner of my mouth.
His fingers traced over the claim mark on my neck, and I shuddered at the bolt of unwanted pleasure that shot through the bond.
"So perfect. So beautiful. My perfect Omega. "
"Don't," I said weakly, turning my face away. "Don't act like this is something I chose." He didn't argue. But he didn't apologize either.
"The heat isn't over yet," Mason said softly, shifting to the side, making room on the bed. "And you need all of us to get through it."
My blood ran cold.
"No." I tried to sit up, but my body was too weak, the heat already building again despite everything. "No, I won't let them—you can't—"
"It's already done," Mason said gently, and I heard footsteps approaching. "They're going to help you through the heat. And yes, Red. They're going to claim you too."
I looked past him, to the doorway, where three other Alphas stood watching with hungry eyes.
Ethan had moved closer, his green eyes dark with desire, his erection straining against his perfectly pressed slacks.
Leo was palming himself through his jeans, his playful smirk replaced by something feral and wanting.
Caleb, Caleb looked like he was barely holding himself back, his massive hands clenched into fists at his sides, his ice-blue eyes burning with a need that made my core clench despite my exhaustion.
Despite my terror.
"I won't let you," I said, but my voice cracked. The heat was flaring back to life, the temporary satisfaction from Mason's knot already fading. My body was preparing for the next Alpha whether I wanted it to or not.
More, my Omega demanded, the traitorous thing. More Alphas. Need them all. Ethan stepped forward first, already unbuttoning his shirt with methodical precision, his green eyes never leaving mine.
"You don't have to let us do anything," he said calmly, his voice soft but implacable. "Your heat is going to demand it. Your body is going to beg for it. And when you're writhing and crying and desperate for relief, we're going to give it to you."
"And claim me," I said bitterly. "Whether I agree or not."
"Yes," Ethan confirmed, no apology in his voice. "By the time your heat breaks, you'll wear all four of our marks. You'll belong to all four of us."
I wanted to scream. To fight. To somehow find the strength to resist what was coming. The heat was surging again, and Ethan’s shirt was unbuttoned,Mason's bond was humming in the back of my mind, and my body, my stupid, traitorous body, was already getting wet again.
"Please," I whispered, and I didn't even know anymore if I was begging them to stop or begging them to continue.
Ethan smiled, cold and knowing.
"That's what I thought," he said, and climbed onto the bed.