18. Zephyr
Zephyr
All the times I dreamed of home and my own bed, it didn’t include writhing in pain while trying to find a comfortable position to get some rest.
I’ve been in rut once before. Phoenix and I were too close, too friendly, with an omega at Mom and Dad’s country club. The connection between the three of us had pushed her to estrus and consequently thrust us into rut.
Alpha’s ruts are supposed to conveniently last the same length of time as an omega’s estrus.
It’s supposed to be about a week. A full week of fucking.
Unlike the last time this happened, I ended up with the omega at the beginning, but now I’m forced to wait out my body’s natural desire to breed. It’s torture.
You can’t take anything to stop a rut once it’s happening. It just has to run its course.
Lazarus was smart and didn’t stop taking the black-market rut suppressants, so he’s not in any sort of pain and discomfort.
It’s probably why he agrees with Fox. The advice that we’re not to use the omega for the rest of our ruts but to also keep her close in case she falls back into season is a double-edged sword.
Now all four of us are locked in an apartment together with no way of releasing the sexual frustration.
Well, there is one way, but it’s not as satisfying. Fucking my hand only goes so far, and my knot is already half hard, looking to lock me tight into an omega.
There are club betas who have stretched themselves to take an alpha’s knot. All I’d have to do is wander downstairs, and I’d have two or three hanging off me wanting a turn. But I don’t want betas. I want the little omega who dragged me into rut and left me here. I want Honey.
I roll from my back to my side again and squeeze my cock through my sweats. Gods, please make it stop.
I look at my phone screen. How has it only been an hour since Fox left?
“Are you thinking about wanting to see her glow?” Phoenix groans from the floor where he’s been trying to get comfortable.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about how much it sucks that Fox blocked that.” I roll to my stomach but instantly regret it. The pressure of the mattress against my cock has it pulsing again. I flip back to my side.
Alarm bells blare through the loudspeaker in the living room.
“The fuck?” I bolt up in bed and look at Phoenix, who is scrambling to get up off the floor.
“We’ve started using the intercom system for warnings of police raids.” Phoenix winces as he takes a step forward.
“Has this been happening a lot?” I pull on a T-shirt, following him out into the living room.
What did I miss? Is this because of me? Uncertainty and guilt rack through me.
Honey is wide eyed, looking around for answers. The overhead lightbulb is blinking, changing colors — I guess in case you miss the noise?
“Take her to the bunker. Go the back way,” Lazarus shouts over the noise.
He’s stowing weapons into secret compartments in the back of the cupboards. Anything that could be considered contraband has a place.
Taking Honey’s hand in mine, I lead her out of the apartment and head to the bunker where she so desperately didn’t want to go before.