Chapter 30 Amelia
Amelia
It's been two days of pure bliss, two days where nothing exists except this nest and my Alphas and the overwhelming need that drives us all. The outside world has ceased to matter, Vincent and restraining orders and fear all fading into background noise that can't touch me here.
Currently Wyatt is between my thighs, his movements slow and deliberate, taking me apart with the kind of focused attention that makes my mind go blank with pleasure.
Every nerve ending feels hypersensitive, my heat making everything more intense, more desperate, more necessary.
His citrus scent surrounds me, mixing with the pine and rain of my other Alphas until the whole room is saturated with pack.
Silas is beside me, his lips tracing patterns along my neck and shoulder, his hands gentle on my overheated skin.
He murmurs praise against my throat, telling me how beautiful I am, how good I'm being for them, how perfect I am for them.
The words wash over me like a balm, soothing something deep inside that Vincent spent years trying to destroy.
Hunter had disappeared a few minutes ago to refill the water bottles scattered around the nest. They'd played rock paper scissors to determine who had to leave, all three of them reluctant to be apart from me even for the brief time it takes to go downstairs.
Hunter lost, grumbling about it being rigged while Wyatt and Silas laughed.
The whole room smells like us now, like pack and home and safety.
Every surface is covered in our combined scents, marking this space as ours in the most fundamental way.
My rose scent has bloomed fully without blockers, mixing with honeysuckle and something warmer that apparently only shows during heat.
The Alphas can't seem to get enough of it, constantly pressing their faces to my neck, breathing me in like I'm air.
"That's it, sunshine," Wyatt murmurs, his hips moving in steady rhythm. "You're doing so good. Taking me so perfectly."
I gasp as he hits something inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyes, my hands fisting in the blankets beneath me. Silas captures the sound with his mouth, kissing me deep and thorough, swallowing my cries of pleasure.
Wyatt's knot starts to form, the stretch making me whimper into Silas's mouth. But it's good, so good, my body welcoming the fullness, the connection, the claiming. When his knot locks fully inside me, I come apart, pleasure crashing through me in waves that seem to go on forever.
Wyatt collapses over me carefully, mindful of his weight, his face buried in my neck as he rides out his own release. His knot pulses inside me, and I feel the warmth of him filling me, marking me, making me his.
"You're mine," I whisper against Silas's lips, the words feeling right, feeling true. "All of you. My pack."
"You're ours too, sweetheart," Silas says, his hand stroking through my sweat-dampened hair. "Our Omega. Our mate."
Wyatt's knot recedes after a few minutes, the mechanics of my heat starting to wane slightly making them not last quite as long as they did the first day.
He's able to pull out carefully, both of us wincing at the sensitivity.
I immediately feel empty, my heat-addled brain already wanting more, needing to be filled again.
That's when Hunter reappears in the doorway with an armful of water bottles and protein bars. He takes one look at the three of us, at Wyatt pulling away and me already reaching for Silas, and makes a decision.
"Nope," he says firmly, setting down his supplies and crossing to the nest. "We're going downstairs for proper food."
"What?" I blink at him, confused through the heat haze. Food seems unnecessary when I have three perfectly good Alphas right here who could be taking care of my needs.
Hunter lifts me into his arms despite my weak protest, his hands careful on my overheated skin. "If we stay in the nest, you're not going to eat anything substantial. I'm hoping that if we're at least downstairs, maybe we can actually get real food in you before you try to climb one of us again."
"But I don't want food," I protest, even as my stomach chooses that moment to growl loud enough for everyone to hear. "I want..."
"We know what you want, sunshine," Wyatt says with a laugh, following us out of the nest. "But Hunter's right. You need actual nutrition, not just protein from us."
Silas trails behind, all four of us completely naked as we make our way through the house. It should probably feel strange, being this exposed, but my heat has burned away any sense of modesty or shame. We're pack. This is natural. This is right.
Hunter sets me on the kitchen counter, the cool granite making me shiver against my overheated skin. Wyatt moves to the refrigerator, pulling out containers of leftovers that someone must have prepared before my heat started. Probably Dylan, knowing my brother.
But I'm not interested in food. I'm interested in Silas, who's standing close enough to touch, his dark eyes watching me with poorly concealed want. I reach for him, tugging him between my legs, and he comes willingly, his body fitting against mine like he was made for this.
"Amelia," he says, but there's no real protest in his voice. Just fond exasperation.
I pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist, and feel him hard against me. My body responds immediately, slick and ready, my heat making me constantly prepared for my Alphas. "Please," I whisper, already arching into him.
He groans, his control cracking, and then he's entering me in one smooth thrust that makes us both gasp. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady on the counter, and he starts moving with controlled intensity.
"For fuck's sake," Hunter mutters from where he's trying to heat up food at the stove. "We're supposed to be feeding her, not fucking her on the kitchen counter."
Wyatt laughs, clearly finding the whole situation amusing. "To be fair, we all knew this was going to happen. Heat-addled Omega plus three Alphas equals very little actual food consumption."
"She needs to eat something other than dick," Hunter grumbles, but there's no real anger in his voice.
I'm not paying attention to their conversation anymore, too focused on the feeling of Silas moving inside me, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that tastes like home. His hands are everywhere, touching and caressing, his rain scent wrapping around me like the most comforting blanket.
His knot is just starting to form, that delicious pressure building, when the sound of shattering glass explodes through the house. Loud, violent, unmistakable. Close. Too close. From the bathroom just off the kitchen, the one connected to the small hallway that leads to the mudroom.
Everyone freezes. Even through my heat haze, pure instinct tells me something is wrong. Predator. Threat. Danger.
Silas's knot stops forming immediately, his body going rigid with alertness even as he stays buried inside me. His arms tighten around me protectively, positioning his body to shield mine. Wyatt moves to stand between us and the hallway, his body coiled and ready to fight despite his nudity.
Hunter grabs one of the large kitchen knives from the block on the counter, his face transforming into something dangerous and primal, every muscle in his body radiating lethal intent.
"Wyatt, call the units outside," Hunter says quietly, his voice deadly calm. "Now."
Wyatt grabs the landline phone from the wall, punching in the number for the patrol units that are supposed to be watching the house. I can hear it ringing, once, twice, three times before someone finally picks up.
"This is Officer Williamson, unit forty-two—"
"Where the fuck are you?" Wyatt snarls into the phone, his usual easy demeanor completely gone. "You're supposed to be watching our house."
"We got a call about a Vincent Hayes sighting two streets over," the officer says, confusion in his voice. "We're pursuing—"
"He's HERE!" Wyatt roars. "In our fucking house! He just broke in through the bathroom window and if you don't get here in the next sixty seconds, Hunter is going to kill him and you'll be writing a very different report!"
I hear the officer swear and then he starts shouting to his partner, before a siren starts up through the phone.
That's when Vincent steps out of the bathroom hallway.
Terror floods through me, cutting through the heat haze like ice water. He found us.
He's disheveled, wild-eyed, his police uniform dirty like he's been sleeping in his car. His badge is still on his chest but it's crooked, his hair is a mess, and there's something unhinged in his expression that makes my blood run cold.
"Amelia," he says, his voice rough. "I knew you'd be here. After catching a whiff of your scent, I knew they'd have you locked away during your heat. I watched them bring you back here and all I had to do was wait. But you're mine. You've always been mine. And I'm taking you back."
Hunter moves fast, faster than I've ever seen anyone move, putting himself between Vincent and us. The knife in his hand gleams under the kitchen lights. "You need to leave," he says, his voice pitched low and dangerous. "Right now. Before I make you leave."
"You think I'm afraid of you?" Vincent laughs, but it's an ugly sound, edged with madness. "You think some washed-up soldier and his pathetic pack can keep me from what's mine?"
A loud growl rumbles from Hunter's chest, the sound more animal than human, every protective instinct in overdrive.
Silas's partial knot locks suddenly inside me as fear spikes through both of us.
Even though his knot wasn't fully formed when the danger appeared, the adrenaline and terror make it swell and lock anyway.
I whimper, caught between fear and the physical sensation, my body not understanding the difference between types of adrenaline.
"We need to move," Silas says urgently against my ear. His knot is already starting to recede rapidly, our combined terror overriding the normal biology. "Can you hold onto me for just a second?"
I nod, wrapping my arms and legs around him as tightly as I can. He pulls out and the moment we're separated, he lifts me and runs into the bathroom just off the kitchen. Silas gets us in there and slams the door shut behind us, fumbling with the lock while still supporting my weight with one arm.
Through the door, I hear Vincent lunge at Hunter. The sound of bodies hitting the floor, grunts of pain and effort, Hunter roaring with primal rage. Then Wyatt's voice joining the fray, both Alphas fighting to keep Vincent away from us.
The sounds of the struggle are awful. Furniture being dragged across the floor, glass shattering, and Vincent screaming obscenities about how I belong to him, how he'll kill anyone who tries to keep us apart.
Silas sets me down on the closed toilet lid, his hands cupping my face, forcing me to look at him instead of the door. "You're safe," he says firmly. "You're safe, sweetheart. Vincent isn't getting anywhere near you. Hunter and Wyatt won't let him. And I've got you right here. You're okay."
But I'm not okay. I'm trembling so violently I feel like I might shake apart, my breath coming in sharp gasps that can't seem to bring in enough air.
The heat symptoms are still there, making my skin feel too hot, my body still wanting my Alphas despite the terror.
It's confusing and horrible and all wrong.
"Breathe with me," Silas says, his voice steady despite the fact that I can hear his heart racing. "In for four, hold for four, out for four. Come on, sweetheart. Follow my breathing."
He exaggerates his breaths, making them loud enough for me to follow even through my panic. I try to match him, gasping in air and holding it, then pushing it out in a shaky exhale. It takes several cycles before my breathing starts to regulate, before the black spots in my vision recede.
From outside the bathroom, the sounds of struggle continue.
Crashes and shouts and Hunter's voice, still snarling threats.
Silas leans over to the sink and switches on the water before lifting me into his arms and moving toward the tub before stepping inside.
Seconds later, I find myself curled up against his chest, his purr rumbling through my body.
"Don't let me go," I plead, my fingers digging into his arms, the sounds outside the bathroom now muffled by the running water.
"Never," he promises. "I will never let you go."
I scrunch my eyes closed, trying to block out everything else as I continue to cling to Silas, afraid that if I let go he'll disappear and I'll wake up alone with Vincent standing over me.