Chapter 26 Jasper
Jasper
Fighting my instincts is all that I know. Fighting the rage that simmered beneath the surface when my mother left. Fighting the distrust that took root when Julia abandoned me. Fighting the walls I built to protect myself from ever being vulnerable again.
But with Rowan trembling in my arms, her scent sharp with distress and sweet with heat, those walls are crumbling faster than I can rebuild them.
"Jasper," she whimpers, her face pressed against my chest, fingers clutching my shirt like she's drowning and I'm the only thing keeping her afloat. "I can't—it hurts—"
Her body burns against mine, fever-hot and shaking. The remnants of her heat, triggered again by stress and emotional upheaval. Her scent fills my lungs with each breath, clouding my judgment, stirring the alpha in me to a possessive frenzy I've never experienced before.
My control, already fragile after days of her heat permeating the house, finally snaps.
A growl rumbles from my chest, primal and claiming. I pull her closer, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other splayed across her lower back.
Mine, my alpha howls. Ours.
"We need to get her out of here," I manage, my voice rough with restraint that's rapidly failing. The festival crowds around us are starting to notice, curious eyes turning our way. Rowan's mother hovers nearby, concern and confusion warring on her face.
"Car's this way," Theo says, suddenly beside us. His expression is calm but his scent betrays him—alpha protective pheromones sharp with worry. Behind him, Wells approaches, his usual composed demeanor slipping just enough that I can see the tension in his jaw, the tightness around his eyes.
For once, we're all on the same page.
I lift Rowan effortlessly, cradling her against my chest. She burrows closer, seeking comfort, seeking scent, seeking what I've been too stubborn to fully offer until now.
"She's ours," I growl, the declaration slipping out unbidden as her mother steps forward.
The woman halts, something like understanding dawning in her eyes. "Take care of her," she says softly. "We'll... we'll talk when she's ready."
I don't acknowledge her, too focused on Rowan, on getting her somewhere safe, somewhere private. Away from prying eyes and well-meaning interference.
Wells leads the way through the crowd, his authoritative presence parting festival-goers like Moses with the Red Sea. Theo flanks us, his normally gentle demeanor replaced by watchful vigilance, a barrier between Rowan's vulnerability and the outside world.
We reach Wells's SUV, the largest of our vehicles.
I slide into the back seat with Rowan still in my arms, unwilling to let go even for the short drive home.
She makes a small, distressed sound when I try to settle her beside me, so instead I keep her in my lap, her face tucked against my neck where my scent is strongest.
"What about her mother?" Theo asks as he climbs into the passenger seat. "Should one of us stay and talk to her?"
"Later," Wells says, starting the engine. "Rowan's the priority right now."
His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, a silent communication passing between us. For once, there's no challenge there, no competition. Just shared concern, shared purpose.
Rowan stirs, lifting her head slightly. "M'sorry," she mumbles. "Didn't mean to... cause trouble."
"You're not trouble," I tell her, gentler than I knew I could be. "You're pack."
The word slips out naturally, though we've never discussed it, never defined whatever this is growing between the four of us. But it feels right. True in a way I can't deny anymore.
Her eyes widen slightly, awareness breaking through the heat haze. "No, I'm not," she protests weakly. "I'm temporary. Five more days and I'm gone, remember?"
The reminder stings, but I push past it. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, we need to get your heat under control. Theo?"
He turns in his seat, doctor mode engaging despite the alpha pheromones he's pumping out... and the fact that he’s a doctor of veterinary medicine.
"Her temperature is elevated, but not dangerously so.
The emotional stress likely triggered a secondary surge.
It happens sometimes with first heats, especially in cases of late presentation. "
"Options?" Wells asks, driving with focused precision, faster than his usual careful pace.
"Omega clinic in Dixon," Theo suggests. "It's about an hour away. They'll have medical-grade suppressants, cooling systems—
"
"No," Rowan interrupts, her voice stronger than before. "No clinics. No strangers."
A tense silence fills the car, the implications of her refusal hanging in the air between us. If not a clinic, then...
"Rowan," Theo says gently, "if you don't want professional medical help, we need to know what you do want. What you need."
She shivers in my arms, another wave of heat visibly washing through her. Her scent spikes, sweet and desperate, calling to something primal in all of us. The car fills with answering alpha pheromones, three distinct scents harmonizing in response to her need.
"I want..." she starts, then stops, conflict clear in her expression. Always fighting, always resisting, even now. "I need..."
"It's okay," I murmur against her hair. "Whatever you need. Just tell us."
She takes a shuddering breath. "Please help me," she finally whispers, the admission clearly costing her. "But... this doesn't change anything. I'm still leaving when the month is up. This is just... biology. Necessity."
Something in my chest twists painfully at her words, but I push it aside. She needs us now. The rest can wait.
I press my forehead to hers, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "Then why does it feel like it changes everything?"
Her eyes meet mine, vulnerable in a way I've never seen before. No walls, no defenses, just Rowan—scared and wanting and finally, finally stopping the endless fight against her own nature.
"I don't know," she admits, so quietly I almost miss it. "I don't know anything anymore."
The raw honesty in her voice breaks something open inside me. Before I can think better of it, I brush my lips against her forehead, a gesture of comfort more than passion.
"You know us," I tell her, the words feeling like a vow. "You know we've got you."
We reach the house in record time, Wells parking haphazardly in the driveway—a testament to his concern, given his usual insistence on perfect alignment. Theo is out of the car first, opening doors, clearing the path. Always the caretaker, even now.
I carry Rowan inside, her body still burning against mine, though the worst of the distress has eased from her scent. The house—our house—welcomes us with the mingled scents of pack. Of home.
In the living room, I finally set her down on the couch, though I remain close, unwilling to break contact completely. Theo appears with water, cool cloths, the basic necessities for heat comfort. Wells stands slightly apart, his posture rigid with control that's visibly slipping.
"What do you need?" Theo asks Rowan directly, professional despite the alpha need evident in his scent. "Be specific. We want to help, but boundaries matter."
She looks between the three of us, vulnerability and want warring with her ingrained independence. "I need... I need scent. Contact." A flush that has nothing to do with heat spreads across her cheeks. “Just... comfort. Alpha pheromones help with the symptoms."
"All of us?" Wells asks, his voice carefully neutral though his eyes betray his hope.
She nods, not meeting any of our gazes. "If that's... if you're all willing."
"We're willing," I say immediately, speaking for all of us because in this, I know we're united. "More than willing."
Theo approaches first, his movements careful as he settles on the couch beside Rowan. His hand gently brushes her hair back from her face, a silent question in the gesture.
She leans into his touch, her body language giving permission where words fail her. He responds immediately, drawing her into his arms, one hand cradling the back of her head as he presses his face to her neck, beginning the scent-marking that had helped her yesterday.
The sight of them together stirs something in me—not jealousy this time, but a warmth I scarcely recognize. They fit together, Theo's gentle strength complementing Rowan's fiery vulnerability. It looks right. It feels right.
"Jasper," Theo says, breaking me from my thoughts. "Wells. She needs all of us."
I don't hesitate this time, moving to the couch and settling on Rowan's other side.
Her heat-scent engulfs me as I carefully pull her half into my lap, my larger frame curved protectively around her smaller one.
I nuzzle against her temple, her jaw, marking her with my scent even as Theo continues his attentions on her other side.
Wells is the last to join, his usual restraint finally giving way as he kneels before the couch.
He takes one of Rowan's hands, pressing it to his cheek, then turning to brush his wrist against her inner arm, marking her in his own way. More reserved, perhaps, but no less claiming.
Rowan shudders between us, but it's different now—relief rather than distress. Her body softens, melting into our combined embrace as her omega instincts finally, finally surrender to what she needs. To what we all need.
"Alpha," she murmurs, the word slipping out unbidden. Then, realizing what she's said, she corrects herself: "Alphas."
"That's right, sweetheart," Theo murmurs, his voice warm with approval. "Your alphas."
"We've got you," I add, my own voice rougher but no less sincere.
"Always," Wells promises, the simple word carrying weight from a man who chooses his words as carefully as he does everything else.
For the first time since her heat began, Rowan truly relaxes, her scent mellowing from sharp distress to something sweeter, more content. The fever still burns through her, but it's manageable now, tempered by our collective presence, our scents, our touch.
"We should move her upstairs," Theo suggests after a while. "More comfortable. More private."
I nod, already shifting to lift her. She makes a small sound of protest when contact breaks, quickly soothed when I gather her against my chest once more.
"My room," I say, surprising even myself with the offer. "It's the largest."
Theo and Wells exchange a glance, then nod in agreement. There's no discussion needed now, no negotiation of boundaries or territories. This is about what Rowan needs. What we all need.
I carry her up the stairs, Theo and Wells close behind. My room welcomes us with my concentrated scent—a space I've never willingly shared with anyone before. But as I lay Rowan gently on my bed, as Theo and Wells join us without hesitation, it doesn't feel like an invasion.
It feels like completion.
Rowan looks up at the three of us, her expression dazed but more lucid than before. "This is crazy," she whispers, a hint of her usual wry humor returning. "You know that, right?"
"Probably," I agree, settling beside her on the bed. "Does it matter?"
She considers this, then shakes her head. "Not right now."
Theo stretches out on her other side, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. "Rest," he tells her. "We'll be here when you wake up."
Wells hesitates briefly, then joins us, positioning himself at the foot of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Rowan's ankle. Connected but still maintaining some space, in typical Wells fashion.
As Rowan's eyes drift closed, her scent peacefully settling into notes of contentment and belonging, I catch the eyes of my... my what? Packmates? Friends? Something more that we still don't have words for?
Whatever we are, we're in this together now. Committed in a way that transcends the temporary arrangement we started with.
In five days, Rowan's trial month ends. She says she's still leaving, that this changes nothing.
But as I watch her sleeping peacefully, surrounded by three alphas who would move mountains to keep her safe, I can't help thinking she's wrong.
This changes everything.