Chapter 14 #2
“It’s called being prepared,” Kai replies, defensive. “Some of us think ahead.”
“For what? Random omegas in heat who show up during blizzards?”
“For guests who might need special accommodations,” Kai retorts. “Unlike you, not everyone avoids omegas like the plague.”
There’s a pause, then Noah sighs. “I didn’t mean—look, I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Well, surprise! I’m not just a pretty face and killer snowboarding skills. I occasionally have good ideas too.”
“This was definitely one of them,” Noah concedes, his voice softening. “She seems...more comfortable here than I expected. Just don’t get used to all this. It’s temporary.”
Kai makes a noise that sounds like a scoff, but I can’t make out what he says after that.
Their voices fade as they move away from the wall, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.
I desperately want to know what Kai means about Noah avoiding omegas, the thought inexplicably insulting, even though he couldn’t have known I was an omega before today.
Or maybe he did, and that’s why it seemed like he couldn’t stand me from the moment we met.
Maybe it’s just me he hates and designation has nothing to do with it.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. “Breakfast delivery,” Kai calls cheerfully from the other side of the door.
I open it to find Kai balancing a tray laden with far more than the toast and tea I requested.
There’s a small pot of what smells like jasmine tea, a plate of various breads with multiple types of jelly and honey, a bowl of fresh berries, and what appears to be a small dish of what looks like rice porridge.
My surprise must show on my face, because Kai shrugs, looking almost sheepish. “Noah said you wanted toast, but I figured options are good…”
He trails off, suddenly fascinated by a spot on the wall behind me.
“You made congee?” I ask, genuinely touched by the gesture.
“Tried to,” Kai admits with a self-deprecating smile. “Can’t vouch for its authenticity, but the internet said it’s good for when you’re not feeling great, so...”
I take the tray, our fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. Even that slight contact sends a jolt through me, but I manage to keep my composure.
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it. “This is incredibly thoughtful.”
Kai’s smile widens, genuine pleasure lighting his features. “No problem, Doc. Holler if you need anything else, okay? I’m right next door.”
The knowledge that he’s so close should make me nervous, but it’s comforting instead.. I nod, stepping back into the room and closing the door.
The congee isn’t exactly like my mother’s, but it’s surprisingly good. The rice has been cooked to the perfect consistency, soft and comforting, and there’s a subtle hint of ginger that soothes my queasy stomach.
Such a simple thing to have an alpha take care of you. Who could have known it would feel this nice?
I’m only now realizing that I’ve been at war with my biology for years, fighting a battle that it was inevitable I would lose, eventually. Maybe it’s time to negotiate a peace treaty instead.
As I eat, I realize I’ve made a decision without consciously thinking about it: I’m going to stay here, in this room, and let my heat take its course. Until it breaks, I’ll allow these men to take care of me. No more hiding and no more fighting.
And I’ll save the shame for another day.
After finishing most of the food, I return to exploring the room, my curiosity piqued by a large cabinet in the corner that I hadn’t noticed before. It’s covered with an elegant drape, the wood beneath dark and ornately carved.
Something about it calls to me, drawing me closer despite a vague sense that I’m intruding. My hand trembles slightly as I reach for the drape, hesitating before pulling it aside.
What am I doing? This isn’t my home. I shouldn’t be snooping.
But the omega in me, growing stronger by the hour as my heat progresses, is driven by instinct rather than propriety, recalling Kai’s encouragement to make myself at home. I need to know every aspect of this space, to make it mine, however temporarily.
I pull the drape aside and open the cabinet door.
And freeze.
Inside is the most extensive collection of sex toys I’ve ever seen outside of a specialty store catalog.
Vibrators, dildos, plugs, and devices I can’t even name, arranged with the same meticulous care as the books on the shelves.
They vary in size, shape, color, and apparent function, but all share one quality: they’re clearly high-end, expensive items.
Heat rushes to my face, and I nearly slam the cabinet shut more out of shock, than anything else.
But curiosity is difficult to ignore, along with something else—a growing awareness of my body’s response to the sight.
The dull ache that’s been building in my core intensifies, becoming a throb of need so strong it makes me gasp.
This is what heat feels like, I realize with a mixture of scientific fascination and personal mortification. This is what I’ve been suppressing all these years.
I should close the cabinet. I should walk away, take a cold shower, read a medical journal—anything to distract from the growing need inside me.
Instead, I reach for one of the mechanical knot devices, drawn to its sleek design and the small omega symbol etched into its base. It’s clearly designed specifically for omega anatomy, with features that would stimulate both externally and internally.
The thought sends another pulse of desire through me, so strong my knees nearly buckle. I clutch the toy, torn between embarrassment and desperate need.
Through the wall, I can hear the murmur of voices again—Noah, Kai, and now Grayson too, their deeper tones a counterpoint to my racing heartbeat. They’re so close, these alphas who have shown me nothing but respect and care. The knowledge adds a forbidden thrill to my growing arousal instead.
What is happening to me?
I’ve never been this person—driven by desire, thinking with my body instead of my brain. I’ve spent my entire adult life suppressing these urges, channeling that energy into my studies, my career, my carefully constructed identity as a beta.
But now, holding this toy designed specifically for what I truly am, I can’t deny the truth any longer. I’m an omega. My body has needs that no amount of suppression can permanently erase.
And right now, those needs are screaming for attention.
The sheets are cool against my overheated skin as I lie back, still fully clothed but trembling with anticipation and nerves.
I’ve never done this before, got myself off with anyone close enough to overhear.
When Josie still lived in the apartment, I wouldn’t even masturbate when she was at home.
Most of my experiences with self-pleasure have been clinical, perfunctory—physical release without emotional engagement, like scratching an itch.
This feels different. Monumental. A line being crossed that I can never step back over.
Because let’s be honest…I’m not getting off with these men nearby.
I’m getting off to them nearby.
The sound of their voices washes over me, a combination of soothing and inflaming even when I can’t make out the words they’re saying.
I close my eyes, trying to quiet the rational part of my brain that’s listing all the reasons this is inappropriate, unprofessional, potentially disastrous. That voice sounds suspiciously like my mother’s and I deliberately ignore it.
Just this once, I tell myself. Just to take the edge off. To make the symptoms manageable.
It’s a lie, and I know it. This isn’t about symptom management. This is about finally acknowledging what I am, what I need. What I’ve been denying myself for years.
I kick off my pants, leaving on the socks that Noah thought were so cute, imagining what one of them might look like tied in a bow around his knot.
Usually, I have to work myself up
The moment the silicone tip makes contact with the overheated and slippery skin of my inner thighs, my entire body seizes with a jolt that steals my breath.
The urge to just bury the whole thing inside myself is overwhelming.
I’ve never been this wet, and I wonder if Noah and Kai could immediately tell that I was dripping down to my knees when they came in the room.
The toy slides inside me almost to the hilt, the smaller than normal knot on the base grinding against my engorged clit. I swallow a gasp against the back of my hand, wondering if I should shove a mouthful of the sheet in my mouth before I give myself away.
But why do I need to keep quiet, my inner omega wonders. Maybe those alphas want to hear it. Maybe they’ll come running if they do, ready to give me a knot that isn’t made of silicone.
My back arches involuntarily at the thought, fingers clawing at the unfamiliar sheets as something deep and primal uncoils inside me. This isn’t the controlled, clinical release I’ve allowed myself in the past—this is a wildfire, a storm of sensation that threatens to consume me whole.
Instead of covering my mouth, my free hand joins the one holding the toy so I can press down with even more force as my hips grind up to meet it.
Usually, it takes me forever to come and the build-up is more frustrating than the ending is satisfying.
But that isn’t what is happening right now.
Pressure builds between my legs with almost terrifying speed.
I feel my pulse in parts of my body that I would never associate with pleasure, the bend of my neck practically aches with the desire for a bite and my writhing hips desperate for over-large hands to hold them in place.
The bed creaks beneath me as I twist, seeking more contact, more pressure, but I don’t feel embarrassed by what has to be an unmistakable sound if they hear it through the wall.
Those voices don’t get any louder, but the gruffness and low pitch of alpha might as well be a physical touch on my skin.
Are the getting closer? Would they break down the locked door if they heard me begging for them?
Time dissolves into a series of sensations: the cool slide of the toy against overheated flesh, the way my nipples tighten painfully with each brush of fabric against them, the still growing slickness between my thighs that carries my scent—rich, musky, unmistakably omega.
I should be horrified by this loss of control, by the way my body is betraying years of careful suppression.
Instead, I find myself chasing each wave of pleasure, my hips moving in instinctive rhythms I didn’t know I possessed as I thrust the toy deeper.
I moan loudly enough that the sound echoes off the ceiling and back to me, lingering in the air.
Can they hear me?
Would I even be able to stop if I knew they could?
My skin feels too tight, like I could crawl right out of it if the need for orgasm is denied to me. The thought of stopping makes my vision swim with something dangerously close to tears—not of sadness, but of frustration so intense it borders on pain.
What would I do if they came in right now?
I imagine the three of them standing over me, a wall of alpha aggression and demand, watching as I fuck myself into oblivion.
The thought of it is what sends me over the edge.
“Alpha…”
Release crashes over me with an intensity that tears a scream from my throat before I can stifle it. For a moment, everything goes white—my vision, my thoughts, the world itself reduced to pure sensation.
As I come back to myself, breathing hard, sweat cooling on my skin, I’m struck by a profound realization: for the first time in my life, I’ve experienced my body as it was meant to function. Not as something to be controlled or suppressed, but as something to be embraced.
The thought brings an unexpected sense of contentment.
God, being in heat is such a mindfuck.
I know this is just the beginning. My heat will intensify before it breaks, and I’ll probably end up doing things that would make the suppressed version of me want to crawl into a cave and die there.
But whatever comes next—for my career, for my carefully constructed identity, for my life—I will have to face it honestly.
I am definitely an omega.
And an omega only really needs one thing to get through a heat.