Page 27
Popcorn. A romantic comedy. Wine. Stolen kisses. Secret touches. Four sexy men all intent on making me feel special.
They’ve made this night one of the most magical moments of my life.
Did I tell them I’m more of a horror girlie? Of course not. They were obviously into the lovey dovey stuff on the screen, and sure, there were a couple of moments that made my stomach give a little flutter, but give me a bloody knife and a scary masked man any damn day.
Don’t kill me, baddy.
Am I right, ladies?
Hmmm. Wonder if my kinky Beta would be down for some role-play?
It’s no surprise my perfume has been wafting through the air while I sit surrounded by three sexy Alphas and a hot-as-sin Beta. What is a surprise is the kind of itchy sensation that’s been crawling across my skin for the last few hours, and the tightness in my chest that only increases with each deep inhale of their scents. Warmth unfurls in my belly so slowly I almost miss it at first. Almost chalk it up to simple lust swimming through my blood. Then Nixon drops a barely there kiss on my cheek while tugging me into his side, and that slow heat becomes a flash fire.
My panic flares, making my entire body stiffen in his hold. I try to regulate my breathing. Attempt to calm myself down just enough that I can excuse myself and run up to the house under the guise of using the restroom. In reality, I need to find my pack of Heat Curative.
Because that’s what’s happening. My heat is starting a few days early, and I need to do something about it now !
I don’t allow myself to go into heat… ever . In fact, I’ve never experienced a real heat in my life. I’ve seen the way heats can destroy an Omega’s rational thought process. Have seen the way biology can warp a perfectly loving person into someone mean and ugly. Have seen the way Alphas will do anything—even tie their Omega down because she’s gone absolutely feral —in order to breed her and get her with child. It doesn’t matter if they did it because that’s what she wanted more than life...or the one child she already had. How absolutely fucked up is that?
No. I’ll never be that helpless. That out of control. That… Omega.
“Hey, you okay?” Nixon asks softly.
I try to force the words from my throat, but it’s tightening up with each second I sit here with them. Slipping out from the warmth of his arm, I awkwardly rush off the mattress and almost faceplant into the sand thanks to the unsteady inflatable.
“Elliott, what’s wrong?” Sy asks, moving to follow me.
“I’m fine. I just…” I hold my hand out in the quintessential stop motion. My chest is rapidly rising and falling as I try to draw in enough oxygen to not pass out. “I’m going up to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for a response, I practically run for the villa, intent on getting to my bag where I always keep the Heat Curative. I never leave home without it. With symptoms just starting, I should have enough time to take the first dose. Give it half an hour or so to kick in, and I’ll have managed to head off this pesky problem before the guys even realize what’s happening. Then, after we leave, I can say my heat started right on time next week, pretending I’m a normal Omega just like I always do. It's not like I'm doing something illegal. It's prescribed by my doctor, after all, and having that conversation with her was already bad enough.
No one else has to know that I skip this important biological step because it fucking terrifies me to the bone—not even my best friends. They’d think I’m fucking crazier than I already am.
In the quiet of the villa, my harsh breathing seems ridiculously loud. Then I focus on my heart that’s beating so fast I can’t hear much beyond the thrum of it in my head. Running up to the bathroom counter, I grab the bag and rifle through the contents. I know it’s in here. I always have at least one partial pack in a discreet little case just for emergencies since they have to be taken within twelve hours of the onset of symptoms.
Except I can’t find it.
Hysteria begins to bubble up in my throat, so I cart the bag over to the bed and dump everything out onto the soft teal blanket spread along the end. My wallet. Mascara. Lip Gloss. My compact. Ibuprofen. Nail clippers. A file. A small coin purse. Scent-blocking spray. My multi-vitamin. A comb. All the little items I keep in a smaller clutch that fits neatly inside my purse.
I’m never without them.
They were here.
I added a new pack before I left, just in case.
If I don’t get them, my heat will start and I can’t let that happen.
I’m sharing a house with three goddamn Alphas , for fuck’s sake.
And I’m not on birth control. Why would I be when I never have a fucking heat ?
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Elliott.
I should’ve taken the extra precautionary step, but it always just felt so… unnecessary.
Look where that thinking got you.
Where could they ? —
“Sweetheart,” Flint’s tentative voice says from beside me.
I didn’t even hear him come in.
“Flint, not now. Just…give me some space, okay?” I manage to choke out, my voice gruff. I can only handle so much, and I’m doing all I can to fight back the dread building in my core.
My brain is bouncing from one panicked thought to the next, rational Elliott taking a backseat to the absolute insanity that is flooding my veins. Is this how my mother felt every time she went into heat? Did she become this raving lunatic simply because she couldn’t handle the hormones that assaulted her broken body? Am I just like her?
“Elliott, we need you to tell us what’s going on,” Sy says calmly, like he’s talking to a psychopath on the verge of a breakdown.
Normally, I’d be sane enough to give him some shit for that tone, but right now, he’s not wrong. I’m close to that point, and nothing I try is pulling me back to the safe place inside my head. The very place I was mere moments ago when I thought everything was perfect. Because it was, right? That couldn’t have been an illusion, could it? Was my impending heat to blame for the false sense of security I felt? Have I been under a sneak attack this entire time, with those whispers of Omega insanity making me think these guys were to be trusted? That I could have them without losing my real self in the process?
My heart is standing back against the wall of our mind, peeking out from behind her hands because she knows what’s coming.
My conscience is shaking her head, awaiting the inevitable.
My vagina is standing proud with a sign that says Open for Knots!
My brain, on the other hand, is overwhelmingly jumbled. Nothing makes any sense.
“They’re not here,” I gasp, still fumbling through the items scattered across the bed like they’ll magically appear.
“What’s not here, love?” Sy coaxes gently.
“I have to find them!”
His brow furrows before his hand lands on mine, but even that simple touch makes me flinch away from him. I stumble back, holding my hand like he burned me. I know that’s preposterous, but I can’t stop the pure fear that washes over me when I see the looks on their faces—Sy’s hurt and Flint’s shock.
Or the confusion on Raff’s face when he steps through the doorway.
Or the worry in Nixon’s eyes when he finds me damn near cowering against the wall.
Even now, my perfume is filling the space, enticed by nothing more than their pheromones and presence. This. This is why I can’t be trusted. My heart’s beating so fast that it feels like it might burst from my chest, but my heat doesn’t care. In spite of the denial my poor desperate mind is trying to send out, my body is still trying to give itself away. It’s never been through a heat before, and it’s coming on hot and fast.
We didn’t forget the pills.
We had them! I know we did…which can only mean one thing.
Someone took them.
No. No, that’s ridiculous. They wouldn’t ? —
Wouldn’t they?
Because that’s what Alphas want, right? They want to breed their Omega. Get them with child to carry on the genetic line. It’s hardwired in their genes. They can’t give that up simply because they say so .
Stop it! I scream internally, halting the toxic whiplash of the traitorous voices in my head.
I don’t even realize I’m standing there with my eyes closed and my hands gripping my hair so hard, I’m damn near pulling it out until Sy’s voice cuts through the delirium.
“Elliott, I need you to take a deep breath in for me, okay?”
When my eyes snag on Flint, his face is so full of concern that the first tear rolls down my cheek. This is why I don’t get close to anyone. Why I’ve kept men, especially these Alphas, at an extreme distance. Only my girls are a safe space. They don’t pose a risk to the fragile mental state I keep supported by rickety willpower and snark. But these guys… They come with huge danger signs.
“Elle, talk to us.”
Not even Sy is safe. Betas might not have the same intense draw as an Alpha during a heat, but the end result can still be the same—a pregnancy I can’t have.
Look at the mess you’ve made.
They’ll never want you now that they’ve seen you like this.
They deserve a real Omega. One who isn’t afraid.
“I can’t do this.”
“Do what, Elle?” Nixon asks.
“This…” I wave my hand around wildly. “I tried, but I can’t.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t mean that. Tell us what’s going on,” Flint’s gentle voice coaxes.
“You won’t understand.”
“Try us,” Raff asserts, his nostrils flaring as he no doubt picks up on my pungent scent.
Sure, they have control now , but how long will that last? Will I even make it out of here before we succumb to our instincts?
“My Heat Curative… It’s gone.” My hands fist at my side, the unexpected anguish creating a toxic mixture in my belly.
“What’s a heat curative?” Raff’s eyes dart to the others.
“You were on a heat neutralizer?” Sy asks, taking a step toward me.
“S-stop!” I shout.
He reluctantly takes a step back with his hands in the air. “None of us are going to touch you. I just need to make sure you’re okay.”
“Do I fucking look okay to you, Sy?” I growl. “My heat is starting, and I can’t… I won’t… I told you I don’t want kids.” I look at Raff accusingly, my voice thready. “You should’ve turned me away then. Why couldn’t you just end it ?”
My voice cracks, my chest aching. My vision starts to blur, and the room spins until I force a deep breath in and exhale, then do it again.
“Why would we end this when you’re all we’ve ever wanted, baby doll?” Nixon begs.
Raff’s eyes meet mine, his face a tense mask. “I told them what you said, and we all agreed we still wanted you, just like I promised. Kids aren’t a deal breaker for us. You’re ours, Elliott.”
“I can’t be yours! I’m no good for you. Why can’t you see that?” I’m screaming by the end, unable to stop the vitriol that’s spewing from my mouth even though my heart is breaking with each nasty word. Somehow, I manage to pull together the very last scraps of the sanity keeping my rough edges from cutting me wide open. “ I. Am . Nothing . Hell, I’m barely an Omega. Look at me. I’m nothing more than a sorry excuse for the real deal. You all need to go find someone who’s worthy. That person can’t and won’t ever be me.”
“You don’t believe that,” Sy demands.
Nixon’s shocked face stares back at me.
Flint lays a soft hand on his packmate’s shoulder. “Let’s all calm down. We can talk this through and?—”
“How the fuck can I calm down, Flint? Any second now, I’m going to ignore everything I’ve worked for my entire life. Biology is going to take over and dictate what I do with my body. It’s already happening! I’ll lose all autonomy simply because I did what I said I’d never do. I let you in.” My entire body is trembling so violently, I can’t keep my hands still. “No matter how much I might love you, I refuse to let that happen.”
Someone gasps, but I barely notice. I snatch my wallet off the bed and head for the door tucked away behind me that leads to the separate entrance Ikaia mentioned when we arrived. The overriding thought in my brain is that I have to get to safety. Somewhere I can ride this heat out alone before it skews my perception and makes me want things I never would agree to otherwise. I need to get out of here before, god forbid, I become her .
“Where are you going?” Sy demands.
“I’m leaving.”
Reaching for the knob, I twist it.
“Elliott—” Nixon’s voice calls out, but it’s cut off when I slam the door behind me and rush out into the night.
I quickly dash down the steps faster than I should, almost tumbling down the last few in my dire need to get far, far away from here. It’s late, but I make my way toward the Hacienda. I don’t doubt that the guys will be on my tail any second, so I just have to hope I’m faster. Bursting through the door, I take in a relieved breath when the man I need to see is working behind the counter.
“Ikaia, I need your help,” I gasp.
Worried eyes meet mine, taking in my current frazzled condition.
“Of course, Ms. Mitchell. What’s wrong?”
“My heat is starting, and I…” A hiccup rushes out, a sob working its way up my throat even as my skin becomes hypersensitive and the light stings my eyes. “I n-need a heat suite, p-please.”
“Of course, Ms. Mitchell. Luckily, we have a private one available, and we keep it well stocked. Do you need me to call the villa and let them know?—”
“No! N-no. It will just be me. Please don’t tell them where I am.”
“I understand, Ms. Mitchell. Privacy is something we pride ourselves on here at The Love Nest.” He types something into the computer, then writes something down on a piece of paper. “Just head out the door behind me and follow the path until you see a little cove with three small bungalows. It’s the one on the left. Here’s the code to enter. Stay as long as you need.”
He passes the slip of paper across the counter, and I snatch it up, failing to hold back the tears I’m desperately trying to contain.
“T-thank you.”
“I’m a phone call away if you need anything, Ms. Mitchell.”
“C-can you get a message out to the n-number on file? Let West Carter know what’s happening and that I’ll g-get in touch w-with her as s-soon as I c-can?”
“Of course. It’s the middle of the night in the States. Do you want me to call now or wait until a reasonable time in the morning?”
“T-tomorrow is fine.”
“Understood. Good luck, Ms. Mitchell.”
I stalk out the door that leads to the back of the Hacienda onto the lighted path he mentioned. I hear someone calling out my name through the trees, and a whine damn near slips out, but I swallow it down and hurry along the wooden walkway until the cove comes into view. Entering the code, I dart inside the door and shut it behind me, flicking both locks.
An aggressive warmth is rushing over my body. It’s like I’m being swallowed up by overwhelming agony that I can’t contain. I fall back against the heavy wood, sliding down to my ass as my legs refuse to hold me up a second longer. As my mind and body catch up to where we are—in a locked room, alone , with no company other than the white-hot pain and need, I'm hit with the reality of what I've just done.
You really fucked things up now, Elliott, my conscience mutters.
They’ll never forgive us , my heart cries.
You’re better off alone, my messed-up brain declares.
The rest of my thoughts scatter once a pulse of yearning clenches at my core, forcing me to wrap my arms around myself as if that will stop the pain. Then the dam bursts, and I release a woeful whine into the empty, darkened room, feeling more alone than I ever have in my entire life.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
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- Page 5
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- Page 9
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- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27 (Reading here)
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- Page 39