Page 13 of Take All of Me

God, I want to shake her and make her see it—how Dakota’s still hers, how we could all fit. Then my gaze drops to her bare shoulder, the tank strap slipped down, and I see it—a rough, jagged scar on her neck. Dakota told me about the surgery but seeing it has me pissed off at the Alpha that fucked her over. I was privy to one or two of those drunken calls in the last year and while she hadn’t been speaking to me, I could hear the rawemotion in her voice so strongly that it felt like it was my pain to bear.

She doesn’t know all of that and it’s why it makes it so much harder not to just drag her against my chest and hold her.

“Hey, you don’t have to cover up for me. I’m not angry with you, or whatever it is you think I am. The three of us—me, Dakota, Holt—we’ve always had this open type of relationship, even after you left school. Holt doesn’t mind.”

She snorts, her nose scrunching up in protest. “Seriously? Everything changes with an Omega. Holt’s going to be territorial over his mate. He’s not going to want a Beta he doesn’t know anywhere near his Omega, especially not in the beginning. I’m not even sure whyyou’reokay with it.”

Her words sting because in a normal world, I’d be furious at the fact that Dakota sought her out rather than me or Holt. But she’s mine just as much as she’s Dakota’s, which means I’m fucking ecstatic that he found her safe. It doesn’t help that I’m shit at hiding my emotions—always have been—and I know she’s clocking the way her vanilla sugar scent is twisting me up. She throws her hands up, exasperated, then snags a hoodie from the bed, yanking it over her head. The fabric swallows her frame, hiding that scar. “I don’t even know you. It makes sense with Dakota, I guess. But you? How is that possible?”

I try not to get distracted, but fuck, she’s so pretty when she’s flustered—cheeks flushed, curls spilling wild, eyes blazing with that mix of fire and fear. “Just because we’ve never talked, that doesn’t mean I don’t know who you are.”

“Because you know who my father is? He coached the Hawks so you’ve heard all the stories, know all about me and my life.”

I shake my head, stepping closer, really needing her to understand. “You’re so much more than your father’s daughter. Even if it wasn’t for how often Dakota talked about you—how strong you are, how you’ve fought like hell to be standing righthere—I saw you four years ago. You were the only person I wanted in those stands.”

Her breath catches as I barrel on, words spilling out. “We’re all fucking this up, aren’t we? Holt told us not to ambush you, but Dakota presenting as an Omega and telling you that I want you probably isn’t it, is it?”

Her nostrils flare, a flicker of desire mixing with confusion and a tad bit of fear, but I feel it—the pull, the heat, her need even if she’s fighting it. “Holt’s your Alpha, right?” I nod, about to explain further but she holds up a hand, cutting me off, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Why don’t you see this as weird? And if you say it’s because we’re mates… I just… no, look, I was going to tell Dakota but didn’t get around to it. They’re giving me an opportunity, a position as the assistant coach, which means hands off. It doesn’t matter what any of this means.” Her hands flail through the air, gesturing to whatever fuckery just happened in the last hour but I know the rules—interpersonal relationships on the team are fine, Northvale’s lax about that shit.

I don’t say it, though; she’s not ready to hear that as an excuse. Instead, I ask a different question. “Are you telling me you’re taking the job because you really don’t feel anything, or because you want to prove to yourself that you don’t?” That’s a selfish ass question and I’ll beat myself up for it later but I’ve waited four years to talk to her and that’s what made it out first. Holt says I have a foot in mouth problem. I’m inclined to believe him.

She lets out a little growl, her hands fisted at her sides. “Does it matter?” Her breathing quickens, chest rising fast, and she steps back, cradling the side of her neck where that scar hides under the hoodie. Her eyes go wide, her other hand flailing out, searching for something to grasp, something to steady her. I move forward, offering my hand, something she takes without hesitation, her grip tighter than I expected. I hold still, waiting,letting her breathe through it, her vanilla scent softening as she calms.

I don’t know what set her off but watching her panic is tearing at my heart. Whatever she’s doing to calm herself isn’t working so I hesitantly take another step forward, reaching up to cup her cheek with my free hand. She leans into the touch, just a fraction, even though I can still see the terror flickering in her gaze, a storm she’s barely holding back. “Breathe with me,” I murmur, “there you go. Keep breathing with me.” I inhale slow and deep, exhaling the same, and she mirrors me, her chest rising and falling in time. My other hand stays wrapped around hers, fingers laced tight, and the trembling in her grip eases, the panic fading from her. “Mates are never an easy thing to digest. They don’t wait to fit nicely into your life, and they make a whole hell of a lot more things complicated when you’re not looking for them.” Her eyes flicker, searching mine, and I keep going, knowing that this might be my only chance. “I’m not asking you to give me a chance, or even Dakota. That’s not why I’m in here. I’m here to make sure you’re okay because I know you’re just as terrified as I am watching Dakota fall apart like that. He was in pain, Maya. He needed something neither one of us could give him. His entire life is about to change, and neither of us is going to be enough. That’s why I’m in here.”

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away, so I press on. “Do I want you? Absolutely. Do I wish we would’ve met differently? Yes. Do I care that by the end of the week, you might be my coach? No, I don’t. Holt’s the skill coach and it didn’t stop me or Dakota.” She lets out a heavy breath, a shaky exhale that brushes my wrist, her vanilla sugar scent softening, less sour now. I drop my hand from her cheek but keep holding hers, squeezing gently. “Let me walk you over to Dakota’s room,” I offer, “so you don’t have to deal with their loud asses.”

That brings out a smile but she shakes her head anyway. “It’s okay, I can stay in here and…”

Her voice trails off, uncertain, but she has no idea how loud they can be and how thin these walls are. “Babe, that music is not going to drown out shit, and as terrified as you are seeing Dakota like that, I also know it’s painful hearing it.” I nod toward the door, where a muffled whine seeps through the wall, Holt’s growl rumbling beneath it. “Come on,” I coax, “Dakota’s room is tucked in the corner of the second floor at Frostbite Hall. You’ll sleep like a baby with all those damn pillows he collects. Jesus, I’m not sure why I didn’t pick up on this shit earlier.”

Her brow furrows, and she hesitates, still rooted to the spot, but then something softens in her—a flicker of surrender, maybe. “He made a nest?”

“Shit, he’s been collecting for months, just telling us he had to have them. And now it makes so much more sense.” A grin tugs at my lips. “I can’t wait to watch him try to make a pillow fort or something.”

“That’s not how it works, Roman,” she pushes out but it feels like she’s finally giving in, even just a little. I know we have a damn long way to go but I’ll take the inch I get tonight.

Dakota

My head’s buried in the mattress, the thin fabric muffling my gasps as Holt fucks into me, his fingers digging into my waist with a grip that’s sure to bruise tomorrow. Sweat slicks my skin, my body trembling, and I’ve never felt so needy in my life—never been this lost to anything, this desperate. The worst part is the only thing running around in my head is the need for a knot.

More slick gathers around my hole, spilling out with every thrust, making the slide that much smoother. It’s too much and not enough, my ass clenching around him as I shudder, chasing something that doesn’t make any fucking sense.

I’ve taken Holt’s knot before—quick, rough moments when we were too wound up to care—but it’s never been like this, this insatiable hunger clawing at my gut. I’ve already come once, sticky mess streaking the sheets beneath me, tears runningdown my cheeks because I already need to come again. My body shakes with the effort as Holt leans over me, his breath warm against my ear. “Such a good mate,” he murmurs, “such a pretty Omega.” The words don’t match the way he usually fucks me—hard, fast, all edge and no mercy—but they sink in, cutting through the pheromone haze flooding the room.

His cock thickens inside me, stretching me wider, and I can’t take it anymore. I turn my head, cheek scraping the mattress, and rasp, “If you don’t fucking knot me, I think I’m going to die.”

Holt’s first instinct is to chuckle but that just pisses me off, a snarl forming on my lips before his fingers dig deeper into my waist. “I got you, sweetheart,” he promises and I’m about to tell him off again before he thrusts one last time, his knot catches at my rim, locking us together. I sag forward, a broken moan spilling out, because it’s everything I’ve ever needed.

Holt shifts, pulling me back with him, and we settle onto the other twin bed, my back pressing into his broad chest. His knot swells further, pulsing hot inside me, and he comes with a low growl, heat flooding me. I wrap a hand around my own cock, stroking fast and sloppy, chasing that edge. The next orgasm hits me quick and hard, cum spilling over my fingers as I shudder against him. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I mumble, words slipping out, mixing with my confusion

Holt’s arms tighten around me, his chin resting on my shoulder. “But you’ve been off for weeks—why didn’t you say anything?”

I don’t immediately answer because I don’t have a reason, not a good one anyway. “You said you were happy with how things were,” I finally manage, “that you weren’t…” I trail off, unsure how to finish, my mind still reeling with this very drastic change. We’ve briefly talked about becoming an official pack after Roman and I graduated but during those conversations, I was a Beta. Now, I’m not.

He shifts, turning me slightly so I can feel his breath on my neck. “I still love you, still want you. That hasn’t changed. Other things will, and god, it feels amazing with you squeezing my knot, but you will always be mine.” He runs his nose along the length of my neck, his scent calming the panic fraying at the edges of my mind. “Your scent’s settled a little. Feeling better?”

I nod softly, a tiny jerk of my head, Holt alternating to soft, tender kisses along my throat, lips brushing my pulse. “What happened, sweetheart? You were passed out one second and gone by the time Ro got out of the bathroom.”

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