Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wren
I wake in a slow, syrupy haze. My brain feels about five seconds behind my body, and my body… God, my body hurts.
Not just sore—every muscle feels stretched, wrung out, used in ways that have left a deep ache in my bones. My thighs protest when I shift even slightly. My clit throbs like a bruise, oversensitized from hours of attention.
I’m overheating. Arms and legs loop over me, the weight of them heavy enough to pin me in place. My cheek is pressed against a broad chest that rises and falls in slow, steady breaths.
Behind me, there’s more heat—a body curled against my back, a palm resting low on my hip. Another set of legs tangles with mine.
For a second, I don’t know where one person ends and the next begins.
The air still smells like them—thick and layered, the memory of heat curling at the edges—but there’s a softness to it now, muted compared to the dizzying spike it had before. I breathe it in, and even though part of me is mortified, another part wants to burrow closer and never leave.
When I finally open my eyes, the room is dim, sunlight slipping through the edges of the curtains. In the corner, a glass vase catches the light. Flowers—pale roses, eucalyptus, something soft and purple—sit fresh in water.
I blink at them, my brain struggling to connect dots. “Where did those come from?” My voice is scratchy, like I haven’t spoken in days.
Beau stirs beside me, his hand sliding lazily up my spine. “Norah dropped them off yesterday.”
Yesterday. The word makes my stomach dip.
“She… came here?”
“Yeah. Brought Pancake, too. Cat’s downstairs somewhere,” Beau says, his voice low and easy, like he doesn’t think this is anything to panic about.
But it’s already starting—that tight flutter of embarrassment in my chest, the slow flood of realization.
I’ve been here. In this bed. With them. However long yesterday was ago.
I ease out of the tangle of limbs, my joints stiff, but before I can swing my legs off the bed, Simon is there, sitting up.
“Hey. Slow down.” He’s already out of bed, crossing to me like I might fall over. “Bathroom?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, because my bladder’s making itself known now, too.
He takes my arm, steadying me when my knees wobble, and guides me across the room. It’s too much—the gentleness in the way he doesn’t let go, the way his hand stays at my elbow even after we’re inside the bathroom.
When I’m done, he’s waiting with a warm, damp cloth so I can wipe my face and neck, and something about that small act hits me harder than I expect.
By the time I shuffle back into the bedroom, Levi’s sitting against the headboard with a hairbrush in hand. “Come here,” he says, patting the space in front of him.
I sit, my back to his chest, and he starts brushing—slow, methodical strokes from root to tip, untangling knots without pulling. My eyes sting, maybe from how good it feels, maybe from how intimate it is.
It’s overwhelming.
“Hey,” I say suddenly, twisting a little to look at them all. “I’ve never… been with Alphas before.”
That gets me three different reactions at once—Beau stills in the act of pulling a T-shirt over his head, Simon’s eyebrows lift in quiet surprise, and Levi’s hand pauses mid-stroke in my hair.
“Ever?” Simon asks.
I shake my head. “Only Betas. This was…” I trail off, heat creeping up my neck. “Different.”
Beau’s mouth curves in something between a smirk and a smile, but there’s no mockery in it. “Yeah, I guess it would be.”
Levi’s voice is quieter. “Different how?”
I’m tempted to deflect, but they’re all looking at me like the answer matters. “More intense,” I admit. “Like… you were in my head and under my skin at the same time. I couldn’t—” I break off, my throat tightening. “I couldn’t get enough.”
No one laughs.
Instead, Simon says, “That’s normal. Heat does that. It’s supposed to. But with your suppressant levels, it shouldn’t have been anywhere near this strong.”
The reminder makes me frown. “How long was I—?”
“Close to three days,” Beau says, coming over to sit at the foot of the bed. “We stayed. Didn’t leave unless we had to.”
Three days. My stomach flips again. “You have jobs.”
“We have you,” Levi says, still brushing my hair. “There was no way we were going to just leave you.”
I drop my gaze, unable to meet theirs. “Did you… mark me?” The words come out quieter than I mean them to. “I know I didn’t know much about the knotting and everything, but I know… Alphas? They mark the Omegas they sleep with.”
“No.” Beau’s answer is immediate. “We agreed before we started that there would be no biting, no matter what you asked for.”
“Why?”
Simon sits beside me, his hand warm on my knee. “Because that’s something you choose when you’re clearheaded. Not in the middle of a heat. Marking changes things permanently. We’re not doing it unless you want it for real.”
The knot in my chest loosens a fraction.
For the next couple of minutes, the room is quiet except for the sound of the brush moving through my hair. Then Simon says, “When you’re ready, I want you to come to the hospital. I can draw blood and run some tests. See if I can figure out why you’re breaking through suppressants.”
“Is that… common?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “But it’s not unheard of. Sometimes your body stops responding. Sometimes the dosage needs changing. Sometimes there’s another cause. We won’t know until I check.”
Levi sets the brush aside, his hand settling on my shoulder, warm and steady. “You’ll have time to think about it. No pressure.”
I nod, my throat tight again. Words feel like too much effort right now, and there’s a lump sitting stubbornly at the base of my throat.
They don’t push.
Beau gets up, stretching lazily, and heads downstairs. I hear the faint clatter of a pan, the sizzle of something hitting the heat.
The sound feels almost absurd after the last few days—like stepping back into a normal life I barely remember.
A few minutes later, Beau’s back, holding a plate with scrambled eggs on toast and a mug of tea, steam curling into the air. He sets them in front of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world to cook for someone you’ve just spent three days tangled up with.
“Eat,” he says.
My stomach grumbles like it agrees, and I realize I can’t remember the last proper meal I had. I eat slowly, savoring each bite, the warmth of the tea settling low in my belly.
They all watch me more than I watch them—not in a creepy way, but with the kind of quiet attention that makes my skin prickle.
When I’m done, I sink back automatically, my body finding Levi’s chest again like it’s been there a hundred times before. Simon stretches out beside me, close enough that our legs brush.
It’s warm. Safe.
Panic flickers under my ribs—the sharp, almost reflexive urge to pull back before I get used to this—but it fades under the sheer weight of their presence. They’re all still here. Holding me like they have nowhere else to be.
We spend the next few hours in a haze of stillness. Beau sprawls at the foot of the bed, idly scrolling on his phone, occasionally making some dry comment that makes Levi snort.
Simon reads on his tablet, one arm draped across my waist. Levi absentmindedly strokes my hair, and I let my eyes close for long stretches, too heavy-limbed to do anything else.
Eventually, I stir enough to speak. “You guys are a pack, right?”
Beau nods. “Uh-huh.”
“Do, um… do all packs share an Omega?” I ask. I can’t bring myself to ask if I was special, or if this was just a regular occurrence to them.
Simon shakes his head. “No. Pack dynamics are different. Most packs do share an Omega. Some packs don’t. Some even have a Beta in them. It all depends on the preference of the members.”
“What’s… pack life like?”
Levi makes a thoughtful sound. “Depends on the pack. Some are structured—rules, ranks, routines. Ours is looser. More about trust than hierarchy.”
Beau glances up from his phone. “Means we look out for each other without needing someone to bark orders. We’re equals and, most importantly, friends. We don’t bow down or take orders from anyone.”
“Except you, of course!” Levi says.
I think my cheeks are turning pink. “I didn’t order you.”
The men chuckle. They fucking chuckle. And I feel my chest warm. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would be in bed with a pack of Alphas and not have the urge to run.
I feel safe. It’s weird and unsettling how calm I am right now.
“Oh, baby, yes, you did,” Levi says, leaning down so I can hear the smirk in his voice. “You were bossy as hell.”
My face goes hot instantly. “I was not.”
Simon doesn’t even look up from his tablet. “You were. Very demanding. Quite thorough in your requests.”
I groan, covering my face with my hands. “Please tell me you’re making that up.”
Beau grins. “We’re not. It was hot, though.”
“Kind of?” Levi teases.
Simon finally glances over at me, his expression gentler. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s… instinct. Heat makes you clear about what you want.”
The reassurance helps more than I expect.
The day drifts like that—quiet touches, small exchanges. After I finally muster the energy to head to the bathroom for a shower, the sheets are clean when I come back.
I pause in the doorway, confused. “How did you even find fresh sheets?”
Beau looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, rubbing Pancake’s ears. “Laundry room down the hall. Simon found the linens in the second cabinet.”
Levi is cuddling Pancake like the cat’s an old friend, with Pancake sprawled across his forearm purring so hard I can hear it from here. The sight does something strange to my chest—something warm and a little unsteady.
One by one, they take turns showering and changing. And every single time one leaves the room, the other two stay. Not once do they leave me alone. I’m not sure if that’s intentional or just instinct, but I don’t hate it.