Chapter 14 #2
I’m so tired that I lose track of how many times I nap. My body feels like it’s demanding every ounce of rest it can get.
It’s around eight p.m. when the conversation shifts.
“I need to report to the hospital,” Simon says quietly, putting his glasses on. “If I don’t check in tonight, it’ll be a mess in the morning.”
“Same,” Beau says. “Early start tomorrow.”
Levi sighs. “And I need a change of clothes. Unless you want me to start smelling like your cat.”
They all look at me like they’re weighing whether they should even be talking about leaving.
“We can stay if you need us to,” Levi says. “It’s not a problem.”
I shake my head, managing a small smile. “I’ll be okay.”
Beau pulls out his phone, tapping quickly before looking at me. “I’m making a group chat. In case you need anything, day or night, you can reach us all at once.”
A few moments later, my phone buzzes in my hand with a notification: Pack Chat.
When it’s time for them to go, the energy shifts. There’s a hesitation in the air, like no one’s sure how to wrap this up.
The men who have been between my legs, seen me at my absolute most undone, suddenly look… nervous.
It’s almost endearing.
Simon steps forward first, glasses sliding a little down his nose as he kisses my cheek. “Rest. Eat. Hydrate. I’ll check in tomorrow.”
Levi hugs me next, his arms firm and warm around me. He doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips to my hairline.
Beau is last, his grin softer than usual. “Don’t make me come back here and catch you working instead of sleeping.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s hard to keep it light when my chest feels tight watching them head for the door.
And then they’re gone.
The silence that follows is thick, and I’m left sitting on the bed, staring at the flowers in the corner. My brain is too foggy to untangle everything that’s happened, but one thought is loud enough to cut through.
What the hell have I done?
And why, exactly, don’t I feel bad about it?
For the first time in days, the air feels still—no low Alpha voices murmuring in the background, no scent-thick heat pressing at my edges, no weight of someone’s hand on me to remind me I’m not alone.
I’m left with myself.
And that’s almost worse than being in the middle of it.
The flowers in the corner catch my eye again—soft pinks and whites, a few sprigs of eucalyptus tucked in for green. They’re in an actual vase, not one of my mismatched mugs. I remember Beau saying they came from Norah.
Pancake’s asleep in the chair next to them, his tail twitching like he’s dreaming of stalking something.
I get up slowly, every muscle making its complaint known, and sit back on the bed. The soreness is everywhere—a dull ache low in my belly, a tenderness in the muscles of my thighs, even the faint sting when I shift in a certain way.
And my clit? Still too sensitive, a sharp, almost electric reminder of how much they wrung out of me.
The mortification hits in a slow wave.
Three days. Three Alphas.
Every filthy, unfiltered demand that came out of my mouth—I remember most of it. And yet…
I touch my neck without thinking, my fingertips brushing over the spot where, in the middle of it, I was sure one of them would bite. Claim me.
There’s nothing there—no bruise, no mark. Just skin that still smells faintly like them.
They could have. I asked them to—more than once.
But they didn’t.
Instead, they stayed. They fed me, cleaned me up, held me while I came apart repeatedly, never once leaving me alone. And when they could have taken something permanent, they didn’t.
It should make me relieved. Maybe it does. But there’s a small, traitorous part of me that wonders what it would have felt like. What it would mean to wake up with their scent burned into my skin, no way to hide it.
I pull my knees up to my chest, chin resting on them, and try to piece together the timeline.
They’ve been here… what? Two and a half days? Almost three?
No one left for work. No one made an excuse to duck out. They were just here, at my beck and call, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
That’s not casual. That’s not just biology.
The thought makes my chest tighten in a way I don’t want to unpack.
I shift again, grimacing at the ache between my legs. My whole body is telling me to sleep, and I think if I let myself, I’ll be out before I hit the pillow. But my brain is still too loud.
What have I done? And why does the idea of them leaving—and never fucking me again like they just did—make my stomach sink?
I close my eyes and inhale, trying to ground myself. My sheets still smell faintly like them, even after they changed them.
It’s subtle, but it’s enough to conjure flashes of Levi’s rough laugh against my ear, Beau’s hand braced at the small of my back, Simon’s steady, grounding touch.
My pulse kicks up. Not panic this time. Something else.
I should feel ashamed. I should be cataloguing every reason this was reckless and dangerous and precisely the kind of thing I swore I wouldn’t do.
Instead, I’m lying here wondering when I’m going to see them again.