Page 96 of The Drama King
The moment her bare skin touched the soft materials, she melted. Her whole body seemed to relax for the first time since her heat had started, sinking into the nest like she'd been made for it.
"Oh," she breathed, nuzzling against the cashmere with a sound that was almost a purr. Her eyes fluttered closed as she arranged the materials around herself, her naked form creating the perfect picture of Omega contentment. "This is... this is perfect."
Oakley's scent warmed with deep satisfaction, pride radiating from him as he watched her settle into the nest he'd built. "Good," he said softly. "That's exactly what you needed."
She looked up at him with something that might have been gratitude, her usual defiance completely absent. Naked, vulnerable, glistening with the evidence of her heat—she was everything we'd imagined and more.
"Thank you," she whispered, the words carrying more weight than simple politeness.
The sight of her like that—nestled in soft materials, skin flushed and damp, practically glowing with contentment as she made those small happy sounds—was almost unbearably arousing. This was what she was meant to be: an Omega in her element, naked and wanting, surrounded by Alpha care, finally accepting her true nature.
When she looked up at us from the center of her perfect nest, her eyes were still fever-bright but held something new: acceptance.
"I've been waiting for this since the day you walked into my classroom," I said, the words torn from somewhere deep in mychest as I approached the bed. "You were always meant to be ours."
Her resistance crumbled completely then, biology finally overwhelming stubborn will. She reached for me with a desperate sound that was half surrender, half relief.
"Help me," she begged, her voice breaking on the words. "It hurts. Please make it stop hurting."
The admission sent triumphant satisfaction roaring through my system. Victory. Surrender. Mine.
"We'll take care of you," I promised, moving to join her in the nest. "We'll give you exactly what you need."
The sight of her bare skin, flushed with heat and need, sent a fresh wave of rut crashing through my system. My hands shook with the effort of maintaining some semblance of control, of not simply taking what biology demanded.
Vespera shuddered under our combined attention, her body responding to our scents with increasing desperation. Every touch drew small sounds from her throat: gasps and whimpers that spoke of need beyond her ability to process.
As we surrounded her completely, three Alphas driven by imperative and possessive satisfaction, I caught the last flicker of resistance in her fever-bright eyes. Even now, even consumed by heat and surrounded by the very Alphas who'd systematically broken her, some part of her was still fighting.
It only made me want her more.
"You're ours now," I told her, the words a promise and a threat all at once. "And we're going to make sure you never forget it."
The pack bond was forming already, invisible but tangible, tying the four of us in ways that transcended the merely physical. By the time we were finished, she would be claimed completely: body, mind, and biology.
Whether she wanted it or not.
thirty-five
Vespera
Heatburnedthrougheverynerve ending, consuming rational thought and leaving only desperate need in its wake. My skin felt like it was on fire, hypersensitive to every touch, every shift of air. The nest cradled my naked body: soft fabrics Oakley had gathered with such careful attention. Dorian's cashmere sweater, pillows from the settee, the throw blanket that still carried traces of their scents.
God, I needed them so badly it was killing me.
Three Alpha scents surrounded me, each one triggering something primal in my heat-addled biology. Dorian's sandalwood sharp with possession. Oakley's warm cedar that should have been comforting but only made me ache more. Corvus's dark chocolate and midnight, clinical even in his arousal. Combined, they created an intoxicating fog that made resistance impossible.
The rich Alpha musk filled Dorian's bedroom completely now, layering with my own desperate pheromones until the air itself seemed thick with imperative.
"Please," I heard myself whisper, though I wasn't sure what I was begging for anymore.
Relief. Release. Anything to make this burning stop.
Dorian's hands were on me then, strong and claiming, his touch leaving trails of electricity across my fever-hot skin. His ice-blue eyes were wild with rut, pupils blown wide as he breathed in my heat scent.
"You've been fighting this for so long," he murmured, voice rough with need. "Fighting us. Fighting yourself. Fighting what we all knew was inevitable."
I wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him this wasn't inevitable, but another wave of heat crashed through my system and all I could do was whimper.