Chapter 23 Rowan
I should have admitted how imminent my heat was before we left.
Some part of me knew I wouldn’t get far before it took over.
But I was terrified of what would happen if we stayed.
The nightmare of being restrained on a medical bed with Zolkos hovering above me clung to my thoughts.
I needed to get as far away from the doctor as possible.
Heat contractions started before we even reached the decommissioned base, about an hour into the journey. At first, they were faint, easy to ignore. I told myself it was nothing. Maybe stress or nerves.
But the moment we stepped inside the old base, they intensified. Rolling low through my stomach and groin, each wave stronger than the last. They became sharp, demanding, and impossible to ignore. It felt like my body was turning against me, pulling me apart from the inside.
I couldn’t keep walking.
I had to stop.
Bending forward slightly, I forced myself to breathe slowly and deeply, trying to ride it out.
When I fell behind, Killian noticed immediately. He was at my side in an instant, hand steadying me, eyes searching my face with concern.
He scented the air.
And knew instantly.
“Cade,” Killian said sharply, “she’s in heat.”
“She’s not going to make it to the safe house,” Talon added. “Her scent will call everything within a few miles straight to us like a beacon.”
“Fuck,” Cade muttered. “Alright. Change of plans.”
He yanked the printed schematics from his pocket and scanned them quickly under his scope light.
“Here,” he said, stabbing a finger at the page. “Residential wing. We barricade the dorms and ride it out. Killian, carry her. Let's move.”
Killian scooped me up without hesitation, cradling me against his chest. I tried to keep my eyes open, to track where we were going, to follow their voices, but the pain surged again and my eyes squeezed shut. It had shifted lower now, from my stomach to between my legs, sharp and relentless.
I remembered the last time I went into heat, and how fast control slipped away once instinct took over.
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
Killian’s grip tightened, solid and protective. “Don’t be, Little Bird. We’re here. We’ll take care of you.”
We burst through a set of double doors, Ryker slamming them shut behind us. The sound echoed down the empty corridor. Every noise seemed amplified in the quiet of the abandoned base.
“Ryker, barricade everything,” Cade barked. “Nothing gets through those doors.”
I forced my eyes open as Killian carried me down the hall.
It stretched long and narrow, lined with identical doors, each marked with a rusted metal number bolted to the front.
The air smelled stale, and specks of dust floated, creating a haze.
Soldiers had not occupied these dormitories in decades.
As we passed an open door, I glanced inside one of the small bedrooms. Two narrow, rusty beds. Thin mattresses coated in dust. A dresser with peeling paint and a dented metal locker hanging open. Everything frozen in time, abandoned in a hurry.
“Clear,” Talon called as he swept a room.
“Clear,” Cade echoed from the next, his movements sharp and practiced.
Behind us, furniture scraped loudly as Ryker shoved dressers, desks, and bed frames into place, wedging them against doors and reinforcing them with his brute force.
Cade emerged from the last room at the end of the hall. “All clear. We’ll set up in dormitory seven.”
Then he shifted fully into command mode. “Talon, find linens. Blankets, pillows, anything usable. Check closets. Ryker, help me pull the mattresses.”
They moved fast.
Talon disappeared down the hall, opening storage closets. Most were empty, but a few still held folded army blankets, stiff with age, and thin pillows sealed in plastic that had yellowed. He shook the dust off them as best he could before carrying them back.
Ryker and Cade dragged mattresses free from their bed frames, coughing as debris puffed into the air.
They flipped them, filthy side down, and arranged them in room seven, laying six side by side on the floor to form one large surface.
It was not pretty, but it was solid and far softer than the cold tile.
Killian stayed with me the entire time, standing just outside the room with his arms wrapped around me. His chest vibrated with a low, steady purr. The noise helped comfort me a little, but pain still rolled through my body in waves, dulling and then sharpening again.
By the time they brought everything in, dormitory seven had become a makeshift nesting room built from scraps of the long-abandoned base. A small camping lamp cast a warm glow over the space. It was freezing cold, but the chill felt relieving against my overheated skin.
It was a far cry from the nesting room Cade had shown me before.
Killian set me down on the mattresses gently.
The moment my knees hit the nest, instinct took over.
I scrambled for the pillows and blankets, hating how most of the fabrics felt against my sensitive skin, and shoved them aside.
The men had done their best finding available materials, but most of the blankets were old, brittle, and smelled musty.
Only a few softer blankets passed inspection. I spread one across the mattresses and bunched the others near the edges. I tore the pillows from their plastic, fluffing them vigorously.
I had no conscious plan in arranging the nest. Instead, I moved on instinct alone, doing what felt right. As I worked, the heat contractions eased. My body seemed to sense that I was preparing and allowed me relief.
The alphas paced just outside the door, watching me. Ryker tried to step inside, but I hissed, warning him to leave immediately. It was not ready yet. They couldn't enter until invited.
After a few more adjustments, I looked around. Instinct told me it was complete, despite the limited resources. It was not pretty or perfect, but it would do.
I rolled across the blankets, coating the fabric in my scent, chasing away the lingering, stale smell. When I glanced up, Cade stood in the doorway, watching me. His eyes tracked my movements with a focus that felt almost reverent, his gaze heavy and warm.
“Can I enter your nest, Rowan?” he asked with a rough voice he gentled only for me.
I fluffed one last pillow for good measure and nodded.
The moment Cade stepped inside, his whiskey scent enveloped me. My body responded immediately to his proximity. The contractions returned, this time deeper, pulsing and painful.
I moaned, my control slipping as my omega instincts overrode rational thought. Cade stalked closer, eyes locked intensely on me as he pulled his shirt over his head. Dog tags clattered together, glinting in the low light.
“Your nest is beautiful, Rowan.”
For a moment, shame crept in. I knew other omegas would have mocked this nest. Part of me had wanted to make it nicer, to do better, but I only had limited resources. I wanted to please Cade, to create a nest worthy of his pride.
“Don’t lie,” I choked out between rolling contractions.
Cade didn’t hesitate. “I’m not.”
I searched his eyes and found nothing but sincerity. Relief coursed through me.
“You’re beautiful too,” he said, voice low and commanding. “This nest is perfect.” His gaze moved slowly over the space, taking it in, before settling back on me. “I loved watching you build it. You did well, the way an omega should. I told you that you’d know what to do when the time came.”
His thumb brushed my jaw, firm and reverent all at once. “You made this for me. For us. And I’m proud of you.”
He hovered over me, eyes dark and intent, tracking every breath I took.
“I just followed my instincts,” I said in barely a whisper.
“What are your instincts telling you now?”
“That I… I need to be touched. I need to be filled, marked, and mated. Over and over. I know the second your skin touches mine, my control will slip, and I'll have to…”
“Have to what?”
“Trust you,” my words faltered as a particularly strong contraction rolled through me, right between my legs, sending slick rushing between them. I moaned, then took a deep breath, trying to finish the thought. “I have to trust you all to know what I need. To care for me.”
He didn't respond with words, but with a low, deep sound that was half purr, half growl, and sent more slick rushing from my core.
"I promise we'll take care of you, baby. All I want you to focus on is letting go," Cade murmured as his lips met mine. The contact felt like electricity, shooting straight to my belly, which flipped with nerves and lust.
"I'm going to knot and stretch you first. Then we'll take turns until your heat ends. Are you ready for us?"
"Yes, sir. Please!" I begged, not able to even feign resistance.
There was no fighting this. Every part of me, every nerve ending, every muscle, was desperate to feel his skin on mine, his cock in me. I was drunk with lust for these men, my control nearly gone.
"Good girl," Cade said as he shifted from tender back to his bossy, controlling self, knowing I craved that version of him right now. "Take your shirt off, omega. Pants too. Leave your underwear on. I want to see how soaked they are."
My hands flew to my shirt, clawing at my clothes, desperate to obey. I had never wanted to please him so badly. Once I had removed my clothing, I leaned back on my elbows, spreading my thighs so he could view the damp crotch of my light pink underwear.
"Good. Now, pull them to the side, Rowan. Let me see that needy cunt."
My fingers hooked into the damp fabric, tearing it sideways. Cool air hit the hottest part of me, and I shivered.
Cade lifted his hand, hovering over my center, before running his fingers through my sopping wet slit with teasing lightness. My whole back arched as he traced my center and the sound that left my lips was desperate.