Nine
Jess
The fire has just about gone out but I’m too comfortable beneath the mountain of duvets and throws to move. If I tried, I could grab a couple of the pieces of wood and toss them towards the fireplace but it’s probably not the safest idea considering I’m wrapped in combustibles.
Instead I choose to burrow further into my nest, wrapping a fluffy throw around my head and shoulders and cuddling a feather pillow to my chest. Since my phone call with Mourning the ache in my stomach has dissipated enough that I’m no longer writhing in pain but I know that it won’t be long until it comes back. I know I should utilise this time to get some food and guzzle down water but I just can’t seem to bring myself to move.
Embarrassment edges in at the corners of my mind, I should be humiliated that Mourning made me come with just his voice. My lack of sensible thought might just have ruined or at least changed our entire relationship dynamic. What if Quietek and Minxy know? What if they find out and they’re mad at me or jealous or….
What if I’ve just fucked up the one good thing I have in my life?
I’m momentarily distracted by the glimmer of headlights through my living room window, making my eyes water. They light up the room just long enough for me to see what a mess it is in here. All of the furniture is pushed back and out of the way and my nest takes up the majority of the space on the floor. Who the hell would be coming here in the middle of the night?
It isn’t long before I hear heavy footsteps and hushed voices. I spring to life, keeping myself bundled in the covers I reach for my phone and dial 999. My finger lingers over the call button, waiting to find out if whoever is out there in the dark and rain is coming here to kill me.
Which would be ridiculous considering I don’t know enough people to have enemies and I certainly don’t have a stalker. My only thought is that Jack has somehow come to his senses and left Loch Lomond to come and be with me and help me through my heat. Even if it is him, I wouldn’t want him here. I’m over this whole push-and-pull relationship we’ve had going on for so long. He was never interested in something serious with me, not unless I changed to fit his high standards.
A knock on the door leaves me pressed against the wall, wrapped in my bedsheets in the hope that whoever it is will get the message and leave me alone. That is until I hear it.
“Open up, Princess.”
It has to be a dream. My heat has me running a fever, maybe I’m hallucinating? This is all some twisted figment of my imagination that just feels so incredibly real.
I move closer to the front door, my hand lingering on the heavy key inside the lock. I’ve been meaning to update my security in the last few months with a deadbolt or something but I never got round to it. It seemed unnecessary considering I live in a village with less than two hundred people. The most excitement we get around these parts is if one of the farmers’ sheep escapes and reappears in one of the gardens.
“It’s us, JJ,” another voice says from behind the thick oak door. “We’ve come to make sure you’re alright.”
I can’t stop myself, I twist the key in the lock and open up the door. Immediately, I’m dazed. In front of me are the three tallest, dreamiest fucking alphas I’ve ever seen in my life. Maybe it’s just the start of my heat, but I can barely comprehend the three men standing in front of me. My stomach aches and twists and with one deep inhale a cloud of perfume fills the air around us.
That has to be MourningStar. I’d recognise his tattoos and stance anywhere. He smells like old books and freshly ground coffee. The scent cloaks me in a sense of security I’ve never known before and I feel like I could wrap myself up in it.
Behind him is a slightly shorter alpha, his dark hair a mess on top of his head and his almond-shaped dark eyes staring right at me. Minxy. His crop top flashes his taut abdomen, laced with tattoos and spattering of dark hair by his belly button. He smells just as I had imagined, steeped Earl Grey tea and ginger biscuits, strong enough that it has my fever-induced nausea slipping away.
But behind them both, shivering in the spattering of rain and the cool breeze is the third. Our eyes lock, my icy blue with his olive green and my eyes immediately well with tears. There’s a sadness to him you could bottle and sell for a fee, so bitter that it almost ruins the smell of fresh rain and spring heather coming off of him in droves. Quietek.
I buckle, bending at the middle consumed by a wave of stomach cramps. Oh God, this is too much. Having them here is too much.
“Come on,” Mourning slips inside my home and he’s so tall he almost hits his head on the wooden beams above him. He sets a strong arm around my waist and lifts me from the ground. I’m about to argue with him, tell him I need my nest when I realise that’s exactly where he’s carrying me. He lays me down gently, careful not to move or disturb anything I’ve set up.
“Grab her some fresh water, Kito,” he says politely, picking up the empty bottle from beside me and passing it to him.
“Kito,” I repeat, lingering on the way the name sounds coming from my lips. “I’m guessing we’re not sticking with anonymity since you showed up at my house.”
The door closes behind me and I sense Quietek taking a few steps inside. Their scents fill my little cottage to the brim; big, bold notes all mixing together and making my head swim.
“I’m Orion,” he smiles, perching on his heels at the edge of my nest. “And Adair.” He points to the slim, golden-haired man hovering in the doorway. I already know who he is, he signed one of his cards to me with his real name once but we never mentioned it. Maybe it had felt too poignant at the time, too committal. Now, seeing them all inside my house it’s like their names are the most treasured possessions I own.
“Jess,” I introduce myself. Now that the cramps have faded, I feel exposed and hug the blankets closer around my shoulders.
“Jess,” Orion repeats with a smirk, caressing every letter as if they’re made of glass.
Kito appears in the room a few seconds later with my bottle of water and when he reaches forward and presses the spout to my lips I drink eagerly.
“Not too fast,” he reminds me. “Just sips.”
“You can come in,” I say the second the bottle leaves my lips, my eyes locked on Adair’s. He’s shuffling from side to side, surveying the room with his brows knitted together. “Sit down. I’m sorry I stole the cushions from the sofa.” Adair follows my instructions like a ghost, weaving his way past my nest until he can comfortably perch on the edge of the couch with his hands clasped on his thighs.
The waft of heather and rain clouds me in his scent and I immediately melt, the ache starts up again and I’m left mewling. Orion shifts to kneel at my side and without thinking I push out my hand and grip a hold of his thick forearm. The veins and muscles dance beneath my fingertips as I squeeze. It sets me alight, fire licks between my thighs and I can hardly breathe. It seems like it’s the only permission Orion needs. He shifts onto his backside and pulls me to him, bundling me on his lap and wrapping his muscular arms around me.
He rocks me back and forth against his chest, whispering gentle hushes against my ear.
“We need…” I begin, crippled by the cramps I’m feeling. “We need to talk about what’s going to happen.”
“We will, princess,” Orion replies, just as Kito settles himself at my front. He takes my hands in his and rubs soothing circles across the skin. I watch as he presses in thumb and forefinger into the pressure point at the base of my thumb.
“I know this isn’t what you signed up for and I appreciate you coming here but the truth is any minute now I’m going to become a messy, depraved, sex monster and I don’t want you here if it’s going to ruin everything.”
I hadn’t even noticed I was crying.
“We’re all agreed,” Kito says with a smile. “We’re in this with you, all of us.”
I twist around to look at an uncertain Adair still sitting on the sofa. His golden hair is a mess as if he’s been roving his hands through it over and over again. But the way the waves fall in front of his green eyes, makes him look ethereal. Like an angel.
“Adair?” I plead, eyes wide and body preparing for rejection. “You don’t have to stay, I’ll understand if…”
Adair cuts me off, falling to his knees on the ground and crawling towards me. He lifts one shaking hand to my cheek and nods. “I’m staying. I promise.”
“Then please, I need you to touch me,” I moan. “I need someone to touch me.”