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Because the story in my head was always the same: me, chained to a cold alpha with a boring voice and a necktie fetish, stuck in a house I didn’t choose, pushing out pups and casseroles until I died of beige decor and emotional repression.

But no one told me it could be like this. No one mentioned orgasms that felt like they were rewiring my spinal cord. Or the way they’d look at me - like I was sacred, not fragile. Like I was powerful. Deserving. Holy.

I let out a helpless sound - somewhere between a sigh and a whimper - and press one hand between my thighs.

Still sensitive. Still aching.

Still a goddamn live wire.

The second I so much as brush my clit, my legs buckle a little. I lean harder into the wall and bite my lip, gasping as my brain short-circuits into The Rhea Highlight Reel: Theo’s mouth, Ash’s hands, Kai’s voice, Lucian’s -

Nope. I don’t even get to finish that thought.

I come in record time, one palm over my mouth, water rushing down my back, legs shaking like I just ran a 5K in heat-haze stilettos.

Ash was right. I’m insatiable.

Apparently, this is just who I am now.

Omega. Scent-drunk. Wrecked.

Somewhere, Lexi is screaming into a pillow.

I rinse off, scrub myself down like I’m prepping for a medical exam, and towel off with shaky arms. There’s a folded pile of clothes near the sink; and in top?

A hoodie.

Kai’s hoodie, to be precise.

Gray, soft, big enough to camp in. It smells like him, of course - citrus and spice and ozone and what I assume is chaos in cologne form.

I slide it on, and promptly disappear inside it.

The sleeves dangle past my hands. The hem hits mid-thigh. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and laugh out loud.

I look like a very cozy cult member.

Still. I curl up in the middle of the bed - my nest, really - freshly showered, skin clean, legs still buzzing from round seventy-five, and tuck the hoodie tighter around me. And for a few minutes… it’s peaceful.

Until it’s not.

The hum is back. That low, bone-deep pull. Not hunger exactly. Not need. Just…him.

I nibble on a crust of bread from the tray Theo left, chewing like someone pretending food will help when I know damn well it won’t. It tastes like nothing.

Because I don’t want food.

Not Theo, with his gentle hands and mouth that could end wars.

Not Kai, with his hoodie and his smirk and hisyes, I’ll absolutely talk dirty to your kneecaps if that’s what gets you off energy.

Not even Ash, who literally watched me get railed and offered towel service afterward like a very buff hotel concierge.

No.

I wanthim.

Lucian.

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