Chapter Sixteen
Kingston
“Yes, Mom, I’m still fine. And yes, I’ll be at brunch on Sunday,” Fallon sighs into her phone, rolling her eyes dramatically in my direction.
She’s perched on one of the stools at our kitchen island, her delicate fingers wrapped around a steaming ceramic mug.
Her slender legs are folded beneath her, and the faded denim of her tight jeans hugs every tempting curve, accentuating the softness of her hips and the lush contours of her thighs.
I lean against the counter, fully intending to focus on the stack of reports Jace dropped off earlier, but Fallon steals every ounce of my attention without even trying.
Her loose crop top rides are just high enough to reveal a strip of soft, tantalizing skin—skin I've kissed, bitten, and traced with my fingertips a hundred times yet still can't seem to get enough of it. My gaze trails upward to her vivid blue hair, casually twisted into a messy bun atop her head, leaving a few silky strands free to frame her face. She looks effortlessly breathtaking, as though she’s just rolled out of bed—but knowing exactly how she ended up tangled in those sheets makes my cock swell painfully against my tailored slacks.
My pulse thrums with a familiar ache as memories from last night—hell, from every night of the past three months—rush through my mind.
Every time I knot her, every breathy moan she releases beneath me, every heated look she tosses over her shoulder when she's driving me to the edge.
..it all echoes relentlessly, driving me mad.
I'm so distracted by my own thoughts and the hypnotic sway of her hips as she shifts slightly that I completely miss Fallon ending her call until she laughs softly, amusement brightening her eyes. She leans forward on her elbows, chin propped lightly in her palm, watching me with a knowing smirk.
"Enjoying the view, King?" Her voice is teasing and confident, and that damned nickname sends a rush of heat straight through my veins.
I grin slowly, allowing myself a rare moment of relaxation, savoring the easy flirtation that comes naturally with her now. She’s softened me in ways I’d never expected, broken through walls I didn't realize I'd built, and yet I welcome it. Hell, I crave it.
"Every damn day," I reply, my voice low and rough, eyes locked on hers. "Though you already knew that, didn't you, Little one?"
Her cheeks flush just slightly, a telltale warmth that makes my chest tighten with possessive satisfaction. Fallon lifts her mug, hiding her smile behind it, but not before I catch the sparkle of affection and mischief in her eyes.
She has no idea just how deeply she's etched herself into my soul—or maybe she does, and that's exactly why she smiles at me like she holds every secret I’ve ever kept.
Romano bursts into the kitchen with his usual exuberance, practically vibrating with energy as he strides across the room.
He’s dressed casually in black joggers and a faded black tee that proudly declares in bold, white letters: I Speak Fluent Nerd.
He looks so effortlessly youthful and happy, it's hard to believe he's the same man who could dismantle someone’s entire digital existence in seconds.
“Good morning, Little Love!” Romano sings brightly, his voice cheerful and affectionate.
Fallon immediately lights up as he swoops down, cupping her delicate face in his large hands, peppering kisses along her cheeks, nose, and forehead.
Her giggle echoes softly through the kitchen, a warm, melodic sound that soothes a part of my soul I never knew needed healing.
She melts easily into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling her face affectionately against his skin.
For a moment, it's just them—soft touches, whispered laughter, and gentle intimacy that fills the room with warmth.
But Romano suddenly pauses, pulling back just enough to frown softly as he brushes her hair from her forehead.
“Mm, Fallon, you feel warm,” he murmurs, brows drawing together in concern. He gently presses the back of his hand to her forehead, worry flickering briefly in his usually carefree eyes. “Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?”
Immediately, my senses sharpen, alpha instincts roaring to life at his words.
My posture straightens, eyes narrowing slightly as I study Fallon more closely.
Romano’s right—there’s a faint sheen on her skin, subtle but noticeable.
Her cheeks are flushed a shade deeper than usual, her bright eyes glazed slightly, as though feverish.
Before either of us can fully panic, Fallon sighs softly, clearly unconcerned by Romano’s concern. Instead, she buries her face in his chest, breathing deeply, her voice dropping to a gentle purr that does wicked things to my pulse.
“Mm, you smell so good right now,” she murmurs, inhaling deeply, rubbing her cheek affectionately against his chest. Her eyes flutter closed as if savoring something irresistible. “God, I could just…lick you.”
Romano’s eyes instantly snap to mine, widening in alarm as understanding dawns. Fuck. His fingers tighten slightly on Fallon’s waist, holding her as if afraid she’ll slip through his grasp. Panic and excitement flash through his gaze simultaneously.
“Uh, Kingston,” he says slowly, carefully, every muscle visibly tensed. His voice holds a strained edge. “Maybe we should call the others. Like—now.”
My heart immediately races, a surge of adrenaline flooding through me, equal parts dread and anticipation.
“What’s happening?” I ask, voice rougher than I intended, already pulling my phone from my pocket.
Voss and Jace are still outtracking down Marline, hunting leads that have kept them out since early morning.
My fingers type rapidly, sending urgent messages demanding they return immediately.
Romano swallows visibly, his grip firm but gentle as he holds Fallon steady. He meets my gaze directly, unspoken meaning passing between us in an instant. His words confirm the suspicion that had already begun to stir deep inside me.
“She’s going into heat.”
A sharp wave of heat slams through my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs as Romano’s words sink in. Fallon is going into heat.
I grip the edge of the marble countertop so hard my knuckles turn white.
The reality hit me like a freight train.
Fallon sits perched on the edge of the stool, her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, eyes wide and glazed with an innocent confusion she doesn’t yet fully grasp.
Her sweet, luscious scent of honeyed peaches—suddenly floods the kitchen, growing stronger by the second, wrapping around me like a vice.
My cock instantly throbs, painfully rigid beneath my slacks.
“Fuck,” I growl softly, dragging in ragged breaths, fighting to maintain some shred of control.
She shifts slightly, completely oblivious to how precarious my control has become, looking utterly enticing with her messy blue hair and flushed cheeks.
The sight of her glassy, heated eyes makes my hands twitch at my sides, the primal urge to claim her, protect her, and knot her nearly overwhelming me.
She giggles softly, pressing her face into Romano’s chest again, breathing him in deeply with a dreamy sigh. Her eyes flutter closed, expression blissful, utterly unaware of the frantic, desperate energy vibrating through the room.
“You smell so good, Rom,” she murmurs sweetly, her voice edged with a sleepy sensuality that sends another shot of lust straight down my spine. Romano’s wide eyes meet mine again, panic and excitement warring openly on his face as he tries—and fails—to mask his reaction.
“Kingston…” he choked out urgently, his voice low and strained, a mixture of panic and eagerness dancing behind his eyes. “Seriously. Get Voss and Jace back here now.”
My pulse pounds furiously, blood roaring through my veins as I try to get my head on straight.
“Fuck, right,” I grunt, turning sharply to rummage frantically through the cabinets, mentally cataloging everything we’ll need—water, high-calorie snacks, nutrient-rich drinks, painkillers for the aches I know will follow, everything that might keep our omega comfortable during what will probably be an intense heat.
My mind spins, worry clawing beneath my excitement.
“Romano,” I say, forcing authority into my voice despite the hoarseness betraying my own frantic anticipation, “Take her upstairs. Have her start setting up her nest—clothes, pillows, anything she needs. Keep her comfortable. I’ll handle supplies.”
Romano nods swiftly, relief flashing briefly across his face at being given a clear direction. He gently sweeps Fallon into his arms, and she laughs delightedly, looping her arms around his neck. My heart squeezes painfully in my chest at the sight—fuck, she’s perfect, beautiful, mine. Ours.
My hand shakes slightly as I grab my phone, urgently sending off messages to Voss and Jace, barely coherent through my trembling fingers. Seconds feel like hours before a reply vibrates in my palm.
Voss’s response makes me snort, even through the fog of adrenaline and need:
On our way. Do NOT start without me.
Jace follows swiftly after, more serious but just as urgent:
Ten minutes out. Make sure she’s okay.
I exhale roughly, relief flooding through my chest as I set the phone aside, quickly placing orders for water, nutrient-rich drinks, snacks, and anything else I can think of. My mind races, my heart hammering with equal parts excitement and anxiety.
This is our omega’s first heat—and our first heat as a pack.
None of us have done this before. It’s uncharted territory, something that would normally terrify me.
But I know we’ll do whatever it takes to get her through this.
We’ll learn together and fumble through it if we have to because the alternative is unthinkable.