4
T he morning air bit at my cheeks as Jack, Elijah, and I made our way to Martha Sawyer’s house. Frost crunched beneath our feet, and our breaths puffed out in small clouds. Despite the cold, my palms sweated inside my worn gloves.
“Remember,” Jack said, his voice low, “we’re just here to ask a few questions.”
I nodded. We couldn’t risk spooking Martha with heavy-handed questioning. My fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on my glove, betraying my nervousness despite my efforts to appear at ease.
As we rounded the corner onto Martha’s street, Elijah suddenly stopped short.
“Look,” he said, pointing.
Martha’s front door stood ajar, swaying slightly in the breeze. We exchanged glances and quickened our pace.
“Martha?” I called out as we approached the porch. “Miss Sawyer?”
No answer. Jack pushed the door open wider, and we stepped inside.
The house was a mess. Drawers hung open, their contents strewn across the floor. Papers littered every surface. In the kitchen, a chair lay overturned, and a broken teacup lay in pieces by the sink.
“She left in a hurry,” Elijah murmured, surveying the chaos. “Or…”
“There was one heck of a fight,” Jack concluded.
We split up to search the house. I found myself in Martha’s bedroom, rifling through her belongings with shaking hands. What was I looking for? What did I expect to find?
As I ran my hand along the underside of her dresser, my fingers caught on something. A small latch, hidden from view. I pulled, and a secret compartment sprang open.
Inside lay a leather-bound ledger and a few folded pieces of paper. My heart raced as I opened the ledger. Page after page of entries, all detailing shipments of leather, including what must be the rare leather stolen from Thompson’s Tannery.
“Jack! Elijah!” I called out. “I found something!”
They rushed in as I unfolded a piece of paper. The small square piece of parchment looked suspiciously familiar. My eyes widened as I read it aloud:
Pay the piper, or you’ll wish exposure was your only concern. Tick tock, time’s running out…
Jack let out a low whistle. “Looks like Martha’s in more trouble than we thought.”
Elijah nodded grimly. “We need to call the sheriff.”
Twenty minutes later, Sheriff Hank Dawson stomped into Martha’s house, his heavy boots tracking snow onto the carpet. He was a bear of a man, with a bristling mustache and eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
“Alright, boys,” he growled, “what’s all this about?”
We explained our suspicions about Martha’s connection to Mr. Thompson and showed him the ledger I’d found hidden in the secret compartment. As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice the sheriff’s dismissive expression.
“So, you’re telling me,” Dawson said, his voice dripping with skepticism, “that sweet, little Miss Sawyer is not only old Thompson’s long-lost daughter but she’s also involved in some kind of leather smuggling operation?”
Put like that, it did sound far-fetched. I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“We’re just reporting what we found, Sheriff,” Jack said, his tone carefully neutral. “Martha’s missing, and this ledger was hidden in her room. Don’t you think that warrants investigation?”
Dawson grunted as he flipped through the ledger, brow furrowed. “I’ll look into it. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up about some grand conspiracy. More likely, she just skipped town to avoid her debts.”
As the sheriff left, promising halfheartedly to put out an alert for Martha, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d overreacted by calling him. Jack and Elijah shared a glance, their expressions reflecting the same unease that churned in my gut.
“Let’s head back to your shop,” Elijah suggested. “We can go over everything there.”
I flipped the sign on the door to “Closed” and ushered Jack and Elijah inside Hart’s Shoe Repair. The familiar scent of leather and polish wrapped around me, momentarily pushing aside the unease that had settled in my gut. I pulled up a couple of rickety stools for the brothers and perched on the edge of my workbench.
“I have a confession,” I said, my voice quiet. “I... I didn’t show the sheriff everything we found.”
Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the threatening note and a couple of folded pieces of paper I’d taken from the secret compartment under Martha’s dresser. “I kept this.”
To my surprise, both brothers broke into grins.
“Well, well,” Jack said, a note of admiration in his voice. “I was wondering where that note got to. Looks like our little omega has some tricks up his sleeve.”
Elijah nodded approvingly. “Good instincts, Milo. I had a feeling the sheriff wasn’t taking this seriously.”
Their praise sent a warm flutter through my chest. I pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.
I carefully unfolded the paper, smoothing out the creases with trembling fingers. Jack and Elijah pressed close, their warmth and scents enveloping me. Cedar, bergamot, sandalwood, and citrus mingled in the air, making my skin prickle. I fought the urge to squirm, acutely aware of their proximity.
Martha’s neat, girlish script covered the page in a jumble of notes and scribblings. My eyes darted across the paper, trying to make sense of it all. One line caught my attention:
SHD shirt—custom tailoring, paid IOU. No entry in my books.
I frowned, rereading the words. It didn’t fit with anything else we knew. Why would Martha deliberately leave this out of her official records?
I tapped the perplexing entry with my index finger. “What do you make of this?”
Jack leaned in closer, his cedar-and-bergamot scent surrounding me. His breath tickled my ear, making me shiver involuntarily. The warmth of his body so near mine made it hard to concentrate. I swallowed, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Jack’s finger traced the line. He tapped it thoughtfully, his touch deliberate. “Martha’s involved in the leather theft, that much is clear. But this entry...” He paused, his brow furrowing.
I frowned, piecing together the fragments of information. “An IOU for custom tailoring? Maybe it’s just a simple favor?“
I mulled over the information, not quite seeing the significance.
“Could be,” Jack agreed, his voice low and thoughtful. “But why keep it off the books?”
“She’s being coerced,” Elijah said, holding up both threatening notes side by side. “The handwriting matches. Whoever threatened you also threatened Martha.”
I leaned in, studying the notes. “You’re right. And the paper... doesn’t it look familiar?”
Jack’s eyes widened. “It’s the same type used in Thompson’s ledgers at the tannery. I’d bet my last dollar on it.”
We sat in silence for a moment, letting the implications sink in. Martha, Mr. Thompson’s daughter, involved in the leather theft. Someone blackmailing her, using paper from the tannery. And now, Martha missing.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
Elijah’s expression turned serious. “We need to be careful. Whoever wrote these notes could be dangerous. And now that Martha’s gone...”
“They might come after Milo next,” Jack finished, his jaw clenching.
A chill rippled through my body, raising goosebumps along my arms. “You don’t really think?—”
“We’re not taking any chances,” Jack said firmly. “We’ll stay here. Keep watch.”
Elijah nodded in agreement. “At least until we get to the bottom of this. Better safe than sorry.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the determined look in their eyes stopped me. Part of me—a larger part than I cared to admit—felt relieved at the thought of not being alone.
As night fell, we settled in for a long vigil. Jack and Elijah insisted on taking the shop floor, leaving me to sleep in my small apartment upstairs. I tossed and turned, unable to shake the feeling of unease that had settled over me.
A sudden chill jerked me awake. The fire in my small stove had gone out, leaving the room freezing. Shivering, I pulled on my worn flannel robe and stumbled out of bed. My toes curled against the icy floorboards as I fumbled for matches in the dark.
With stiff fingers, I struck a match and coaxed the stove back to life. The coal caught slowly, reluctant in the unusual cold. I added a few pieces of kindling, watching the flames lick hesitantly at the fresh fuel. The radiator pipes groaned and creaked as warmth began to seep back into the room.
As feeling returned to my extremities, my thoughts drifted to Jack and Elijah downstairs. With their hardier alpha constitutions, the brothers probably didn’t feel half as frozen as I did. Still, the shop’s old walls offered little insulation. This sudden cold snap likely troubled even those two, despite their robust alpha physiology.
I grabbed an extra blanket and made my way to the rickety stairs. The wooden steps protested under my weight as I descended to check on my two guardians.
I found Jack and Elijah huddled around the shop’s old potbelly stove, cursing softly as they tried to get it lit.
“Damn this infernal contraption,” Jack muttered, striking another match.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Here, let me show you.”
With practiced ease, I lit the stove, coaxing the flames to life. Soon, warmth began to spread through the shop.
“How do you stand it?” Elijah asked, rubbing his hands together. “It must be freezing up there.”
I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “You get used to it, I suppose.”
Jack’s expression softened. “You shouldn’t have to. Come on, stay down here where we can keep each other warm.”
Before I could protest, they were arranging blankets on the floor near the stove. I found myself sandwiched between them, their body heat more comforting than any fire.
As we lay there, I became acutely aware of their scents. Jack’s spicy cedar, Elijah’s sweet sandalwood—they wrapped around me like a cocoon. My own scent, warm vanilla and cocoa, seemed to intensify in response.
Jack nuzzled against my neck, inhaling deeply. “God, Milo, you smell incredible.”
A shiver ran through me, and not from the cold. Elijah’s hand found mine, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my palm.
“Is this okay?” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. My body thrummed with need, my omega instincts singing at the proximity of two strong alphas.
Jack’s lips brushed against my pulse point, and a small whimper escaped me. That seemed to break the last of their restraint.
Suddenly, Jack’s mouth claimed mine—thoroughly, passionately—his tongue exploring with eager curiosity. Then Elijah was there, his kisses softer but no less intense.
When we’d kissed in their shop, it had been a simple exchange of favors. I assumed they’d invented another way to torment me. But this... my lips tingled as Elijah pulled back only for Jack to claim them again, their unique tastes mingling until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
The warmth of their bodies pressed against mine. Jack’s breath was hot on my neck as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my throat. Elijah’s hands roamed beneath my shirt, his calloused fingertips tracing intricate patterns across my ribs.
“We want you,” Jack growled, his voice thick with need.
Elijah’s lips brushed my ear. “Say yes. Please.”
I nodded, unable to form words as arousal coursed through me. With a low growl, Jack rose and scooped me into his arms in one smooth motion.
“Bed,” he commanded, taking the steps two at a time. “We’re not taking you on that cold floor.”
Jack’s strong arms cradled me as he carried me into the bedroom. Elijah followed close behind. Jack lowered me onto the bed with surprising gentleness. The mattress dipped as both alphas joined me, their hands roaming over my body with eager reverence. I shivered as they peeled away my clothing, layer by layer, until I lay bare before them.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched them shed their own garments, revealing tanned skin and sculpted muscles. The sight of them, powerful and aroused, sent a jolt of desire straight through me. I couldn’t help but stare at their cocks, thick and hard. My hole clenched at the thought of being filled by them, aching to be stretched and claimed.
Elijah’s lips found my chest, pressing soft, warm kisses along my collarbone and down to my sternum. His touch ignited sparks beneath my skin, and I arched into him, craving more.
“Beautiful,” he breathed against my flesh, the word a caress in itself.
Jack’s dark eyes gleamed as he took in the sight of us. A predatory smile curved his lips, sending a delicious shiver through me. “And all ours,” he growled, voice thick with possession and promise.
Jack’s calloused palms slid over my hips, his grip firm and sure, pulling me closer. Elijah’s lips, soft and teasing, brushed against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. The contrast of their touch, one teasing and demanding, the other coaxing and almost hesitant, sent a thrill through me.
I shivered as Elijah’s lips traveled downward, his stubble scratching against my sensitive skin. My muscles tensed in anticipation as he nuzzled the hollow of my throat, his mouth trailing lower still. Jack pressed his thumbs into the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, urging me to open wider for him.
The scratch of Elijah’s scruff against my nipple made me gasp. He teased it with his tongue, sucking gently, then nibbled a path down my torso.
I tensed when Jack’s finger pushed inside me. “Easy. That’s it,” he urged as he slowly prepared me, his finger sliding inside, stretching me, before adding a second.
I felt Elijah shift beside me, his body radiating heat. His fingers traced lazy circles on my thigh, eliciting shivers as he watched his brother work me open.
“Touch him, little brother.” Jack’s voice was low and rough, his eyes dark with desire.
"Please," I begged, my voice hoarse. "I need..."
Elijah’s hand closed around my cock. Heeding Jack’s instruction, he began to stroke me in a steady rhythm. A groan tore from my throat, my back arching as sensations overwhelmed me.
“Use your thumb,” Jack said. “Stroke the tip.”
My breath caught as Elijah obeyed, the pad of his thumb circling the sensitive head. My hips jerked, seeking more pressure, more stimulation. A needy whine slipped past my lips.
“Feeling good, sweetheart?” Jack asked, flashing me a wolfish grin.
I moaned, reaching for him. “Jack, please…”
I gasped as Elijah’s tongue swirled around my nipple, licking and sucking, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. “Eli!” I cried out, my body arching, my hands gripping Elijah’s shoulders as I spent myself, my release coating his fingers.
Jack’s voice, low and demanding, filled my ears. “Taste him.”
“Oh, god,” I whimpered, my face heating with embarrassment. Boneless, I watched through hooded eyes as Elijah’s tongue swiped over the pad of his thumb, his eyes closing briefly as he savored me. “That’s… that’s…”
“You should take the first ride, little brother,” Jack purred, his voice low and husky. His dark eyes met mine. “What do you say, sweetheart?”
My breath caught in my throat at his words. Heat pooled in my belly as I nodded, a soft sigh escaping my lips. I glanced at Elijah, whose eyes had gone wide.
“You sure?” Elijah’s voice wavered slightly, his hand gentle on my thigh. “I mean... wow. This is really happening?”
Jack chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Oh, it’s happening alright.”
Elijah swallowed audibly. “What about you?” He asked Jack, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin.
“I’ll get my turn soon enough,” Jack said, giving me a wink that made my stomach flip flop.
I couldn’t help the flush that crept up my neck at his words. My skin prickled with heat, a warmth that spread from my collar to the tips of my ears. Both alphas pressed closer, drawing a soft whimper from my lips.
Jack’s fingers touched my knee. He traced a tantalizing path upward, reigniting sparks through my body. I bit my lip, trying to stifle the small sounds threatening to escape. The air was thick with the musk of their arousal, making my own penis throb with need even though I had just come.
Jack’s hand slid higher, teasing me.
Elijah swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between Jack and me, asking silent permission. I nodded eagerly, and he breathed out a shaky "Okay."
“Just wait till you see him fall apart,” Jack murmured as he urged Elijah between my legs. “It’ll be a sight to behold.”
Elijah positioned himself, his hands trembling slightly. Jack guided his brother with a steady hand on his hip, his deep voice instructing Elijah to penetrate me.
“Easy now,” Jack encouraged. “Slowly at first. Just like I told you.”
I felt the stretch as Elijah pushed inside, a sharp mix of pleasure and pain that made me keen.
"That's it, take your time," Jack encouraged, his voice gentle but firm. "Let him adjust."
Elijah’s hands braced on either side of me as he began to move, his breath coming in short gasps. Jack’s fingers tangled with mine, his thumb stroking my wrist as he murmured instructions to his brother. "Nice and steady, Eli." The rhythm of Elijah's hips built a coil of tension in my core.
“Deeper, Eli,” Jack said, his voice hoarse. “Look for the spot that makes him go dizzy.”
Elijah groaned, his body working mine as he sought a deeper angle. I cried out when one well-aimed thrust sent a jolt of white-hot electricity through me and clenched around Elijah’s length. His hips snapped forward in response, his pace quickening to a frantic rhythm that left me breathless and clinging to the sheets and to Jack. The pressure built, a delicious burn that had me panting and writhing beneath Elijah.
“God, sweetheart, you look so fucking perfect taking my brother’s cock,” Jack growled, his eyes dark with lust.
Elijah’s release triggered mine, and I cried out as pleasure crashed through me, each pulse of bliss more intense than the last. Elijah’s fingers bit into my hips as he spilled himself deep within me, his body shuddering with the force of it. Jack’s hand gentled on my wrist, his thumb brushing over my pulse as he soothed me through the aftershocks.
My body trembled as Elijah and I remained locked together, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. The intensity of what we’d just experienced left me reeling, my mind struggling to process it all. I’d never done that before, much less being knotted, and the unfamiliar sensation sent waves of conflicting emotions through me.
Elijah’s arms tightened around me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. I felt his heartbeat thundering against my chest, matching my own frantic rhythm. Neither of us seemed to know quite what to say or do next.
“You two doing okay?” Jack’s deep voice rumbled, cutting through the charged silence.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Jack asked, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
I opened my mouth to respond, but only a shaky exhale escaped. Jack nodded in understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my cheek. He turned his attention to Elijah, tilting his chin up with gentle fingers.
“And you, little brother?” he murmured.
Elijah made a soft sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh. Jack chuckled warmly, the sound vibrating through the air.
“That good, huh?”
As Jack continued to murmur words of praise and reassurance, the initial shock began to fade. In its place, I felt a deep bond forming, linking the three of us in a way I’d never imagined possible.
I felt Elijah’s knot subside, his warmth slowly withdrawing from my body. A shiver ran through me at the sudden emptiness, but it only fueled my desire for more. Eli rolled off me, his absence leaving my skin prickling with goosebumps. He settled close, his body a comforting furnace against my side. I found myself instinctively leaning into his warmth. My gaze locked onto Jack, his dark eyes smoldering with barely contained need.
“Jack,” I breathed, voice hoarse and needy. “Please...”
He understood without further explanation. In one fluid motion, he moved between my legs, strong hands gripping my hips.
"God, you're incredible," Jack growled. "It was torture waiting my turn.”
My breath hitched as I felt the head of Jack’s cock nudge at my entrance, thick and insistent. I gasped as he entered me, my body stretching to accommodate his impressive length just as it had his brother’s.
"That's it, sweetheart. Take all of me."
The feeling was indescribable—different from Elijah, yet equally intoxicating, a delicious burn as he thrust forward, filling me. A whimper escaped my lips in response to his words.
Elijah pressed closer, his lips finding my neck. “Never imagined we’d have you like this,” he murmured against my skin. His fingers tangled with mine as Jack set a steady rhythm, each thrust sending jarring shocks of pleasure rippling through my body. I clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as I lost myself in the sensations. The room filled with our mingled scents and the heady musk of arousal.
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” Jack growled, his hips snapping as he thrust into me. “Come on, sweetheart. Let us hear you.” The command shot straight to my cock, eliciting that sharp, familiar sensation that signaled my impending release.
Jack’s dark eyes flicked to Elijah.
“Don’t just lay there watching, little brother. Come show our omega how good he is for us.”
My breath caught at his possessive words, my inner omega purring at being claimed by both alphas. Elijah’s fingers ghosted across my cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, a contrast to Jack’s commanding presence. I leaned into the caress, craving more of that tender exploration.
“Tell him,” Jack demanded, thrusting his cock deep inside me, “how perfect he is.”
“You’re doing amazing,” Elijah said. “So beautiful, so perfect.”
A tremor raced through me at his praise, my scent blooming sweet and rich with pleasure. His words made me feel cherished, wanted, desired.
The stretch and burn of Jack’s possession pushed me higher, driving me to the brink despite my body's exhaustion. His cock filled me, his hips pumping relentlessly. My third release of the night crashed over me, dragging ragged cries from my throat. Jack’s teeth sank into my shoulder as he found his own release, his cock pulsing inside me.
His fingers dug into my hips as he knotted me just as his brother had. Waves of pleasure rippled through my oversensitive flesh as Jack’s cock continued to pulse inside me. The weight of his body pressed me into the mattress, grounding me as aftershocks made my muscles quiver and clench around his knot. His touch turned feather-light, fingers tracing patterns across my sweat-slicked skin. His lips brushed my neck, my shoulder, each kiss a wordless apology for the marks he’d left there—such a contrast to his usual confident swagger.
Elijah’s warmth enveloped both Jack and me as he wrapped his strong arms around us. His scent—sandalwood, citrus, and honey—mingled with Jack’s cedar and bergamot, while my own vanilla and cocoa wove through them both. The mix created a heady cocktail that made my head spin with contentment and belonging.
In that moment, I knew I was truly theirs, and they were mine.
Morning light filtered through the threadbare curtains, rousing me from a deep sleep. The bed beside me was empty, but still warm. Voices drifted up from the shop below, along with the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee and... was that bacon?
I dressed quickly, wincing slightly at the pleasant soreness in my muscles. Heat crept up my neck as memories of last night flooded back. As I descended the stairs, the sight that greeted me warmed my heart more than any stove ever could.
Jack and Elijah bustled around the shop, laying out a feast on my battered workbench. Fresh bread, eggs, bacon, and a steaming pot of coffee. My stomach growled appreciatively.
“Ah, sleeping beauty awakens,” Jack teased, pressing a mug of coffee into my hands.
Elijah’s smile was softer, but no less warm. A pink flush stained his cheeks as our eyes met. “We thought you could use a good breakfast.”
I ducked my head, unable to stop my own blush or the sudden moisture that filled my eyes. I blinked back tears. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“We wanted to,” Elijah said simply, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.
As we ate, conversation flowed easily. It felt... right, somehow. As if this was how mornings were always meant to be.
“Oh,” Jack said suddenly, gesturing towards my workbench. “Those shoes—they’re coming along nicely.” A knowing grin spread across his face as he winked at me. "I recognized the leather.”
I glanced at the half-finished pumps, guilt twisting in my gut. “Mrs. Thackeray’s order. I’ve been so distracted with everything... I’ll have to rush to finish them.”
Elijah squeezed my hand. “We’ll help. Between the three of us, we’ll have them done in no time.”
A knock at the door interrupted our cozy breakfast. Jack went to answer it, his easy smile faltering as he saw who stood on the other side.
Sheriff Dawson pushed his way into the shop, his face grim. Two deputies —Deputy Smith and Deputy Rogers—flanked him, hands resting on their holsters.
“Milo Hart,” Dawson said, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. “I have a warrant for your arrest.”
The room spun around me. “Arrest? But... why?”
Dawson’s mustache twitched. “We have a witness who saw someone matching your description near the tannery on the night of the theft. You’re coming with us.”
As the deputies moved towards me, Jack and Elijah stepped protectively in front of me.
“This is ridiculous,” Jack snarled. “Milo had nothing to do with the theft.”
Elijah’s voice was calmer, but no less intense. “Sheriff, surely you can’t believe?—“
“Step aside, boys,” Dawson growled. “Unless you want to join him down at the station.”
I placed a hand on each of their shoulders, gently pushing them aside. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I’ll go.”
As Deputy Smith slapped the cold cuffs on my wrists, Jack’s nostrils flared.
“Are cuffs really necessary? He’s been a respected member of this town since he was in fucking diapers.”
“Standard procedure,” Smith muttered.
“To hell with procedure.” Elijah’s usual easy manner vanished. “Where’s he gonna run off to?”
Sheriff Dawson raised his hand. “Fine. No cuffs.”
The deputy removed the restraint, leaving behind a cold ring where the metal had pressed against my skin. I caught Jack and Elijah’s eyes. The muscles in Jack’s jaw twitched. Elijah’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. Something dark and protective flashed across both their faces, eliciting a storm of emotions inside me.
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “We’ll get this sorted out soon. Just... just finish those shoes for Mrs. Thackeray, will you?”
As the sheriff led me out of my shop—my home—I clung to that one normal thought. Shoes to mend. Customers to please. It was easier than facing the reality of the cramped cell waiting at Millcrest Courthouse & Jail.
The last thing I saw before the police car door closed was Jack and Elijah, standing in the doorway of Hart’s Shoe Repair.
Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for certain.
I wasn’t alone anymore.