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Connor jerks, coming back to reality with a grimace. He reaches for me and I shy away, hating the hurt on his face when I do. “Daphne, that’s not?—”

“It’s fine. Really.” Patting Dez on the shoulder, I whisper, “Put me down, please.”

His grip tightens. “I don’t want to. We promised to help you, and we will. Right, Connor?”

He doesn’t answer. Dez’s shirt tightens almost painfully where it’s twisted around my fingers, but I need that ache to keep the tears at bay. Heightened emotions are normal during a heat. That’s all this is. An emotional response. It’s fine that Connor doesn’t want this. He doesn’t even know me.

But it hurts, nonetheless.

Maybe that’s why I float back to that house, to the men who showed me how easy it was to choose anything and everything else first.

“Where are you going?” I pant, cramps throbbing through my pelvis. We’re three days into my heat and the pain is still excruciating, yet my alphas are heading for the door.

“There’s an emergency at work,” Corey says. Lance is already past the frame, shoes in hand. “We have to go.”

“Now?”

They’re too busy gathering clothes to see my tears, but Jacob does, and his eyes flash with annoyance. “Yes, Daphne. Now.”

“I’m in heat.” As if they forgot. As if they can’t smell it in the nest. Spread across their skin.

I reek of their scents. Their cum. Yet they seem unfazed now that they’ve rutted me into oblivion.

“And you have been for days. Will be for a few more, probably. A few hours won’t matter.”

“Call someone else.” My skin burns, body contorting to escape the agony. “Your omega needs you.”

Jacob waves the others on, but he doesn’t follow. When he lets me drag him close, my heart leaps.

He’s staying for me. He’ll help.

“Please don’t go,” I beg into his mouth, tongue running over his teeth caps. Another slap in the face. Just like the rut blockers I found in his medicine cabinet months ago. Pills meant to keep him in control so he doesn’t accidentally bond his omega.

Jacob grips my chin the way he likes and slips his lips across mine in a cruel mockery of a kiss. “No.”

The sobs finally break free. Everything hurts and he’s fucking leaving. Again. But my pleas do nothing. My pack lead ignores every tear, every pained grunt, every begging mention of his name on my tongue. The only kindness he offers is kicking a toy closer.

The first glance of vibration against my clit and the feel of the silicone inside me is a relief that swallows everything else. I don’t hear him leave and I don’t know when they come back. Or if they even do. All I can focus on is the never-ending pain. My heat breaks three days later, and so do I.

A snarl shakes me from the memory, Dez’s body vibrating beneath my hands. “What the fuck, Con? Fix it!”

“I’m trying! Daphne, look at me.” I feel eyes boring into the side of my face, but I can’t do it. Can’t lift my gaze knowing I’ll end up right there again. Alone, in pain.

The scent filters are nothing against the acrid scent of burnt sugar pouring off me.

“Come on, angel. Look at me.” Connor’s voice softens, all deceptive sweetness.

It’s a trap. He’s going to promise me the world, then rip it away like they did. I know it.“No.”

That one pitiful word is all I get before my head’s wrenched back, the grip on my hair firm yet gentle. It’s meant to get my attention and that’s exactly what it does.

“Fuck.” His voice breaks, face tightening as he takes me in. Seeing way too fucking much. Does he understand how confused my instincts are?Get closer. Burrow and hide. Lick him. Run away. Alphas are awful. Not this one.

The urge to cry gets worse and I shift in his grasp, vision blurring. “Please stop.”

“Give her here.”

Dez transfers me only after another scent mark along my shoulder. Where Nate’s all sunny days and Connor’s clear winter skies, Dez is wet earth and warm nights. Hothouse flowers and heat. Sweaty skin, desperate tongues, and all the depth of the center of the earth.