Page 109 of Knot Her Mountain Men

Keeping a tight leash on myself so I didn’t drive us off the road trying to get home faster was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

We had no idea what was wrong, only that Bear had sent an SOS into the group chat when we were still an hour away. I knew the mountain roads like the back of my hand, but it didn’t stop every passing second from gutting me. We had to get home, but sliding off the road wouldn’t help anyone.

I was half tempted to jettison the flatbed so I didn’t have to contend with its weight, but Ryder had rightly pointed out that it would be dangerous for anyone else coming up this road.

Soon, but not fucking soon enough, I turned up our drive, spitting gravel behind us, not even caring that Maverick’s truck would be taking that damage. We careened to a stop, sprinted out of the truck, and I crashed against the door to the garage when it didn’t open.

It was never locked when we were home because we were in and out all day. The deadbolt being locked wasn’t a good sign.

Ryder fumbled with his key, dropping it in his haste before finally selecting the one to open the deadbolt. Maverick was with us by then, and we shoved our way inside.

“Bear!” I yelled out. “Morgan!”

Pumpkin came running down the stairs, howling and agitated.

“Shit. Where are they?”

She ran back up toward the loft, pawing at the closed door.

It was locked when I tried to turn the door handle. That wasn’t a good sign either. “Morgan, it’s us.”

The lock clicked, and the door swung open, a fog of maple sweeping over us. Bear stood naked, and Morgan was sprawled out on the bed.

“Motherfucker,” Ryder groaned, palming where his cock was trying to burst out of his jeans.

“Is she in heatagain?” Maverick asked, pushing all three of us into the room.

“Go,” Bear growled, nudging us all the way in and shutting the door again.

She was covered in bruises and scratches, spruce needles and bits of pine cone stuck to her hair.

“What the fuck happened?”

Morgan’s omega whine pierced straight through me.

“Later,” Bear growled.

I huffed out a protesting sigh and squeezed my eyes shut. Details would have to wait. Morgan needed us.

“We’re here, little fox.” I stripped as quickly as I could and tossed myself onto the bed with her. She reared up, arms locking around my neck, teeth snapping right into my skin.

Bear kneeled down where I could see him, sharply signing, “Bite her.”

“Fuck, Bear, we can’t. She has to choose that.”

“She did.” He slammed his fist on his open palm for emphasis. “Bite her.”

I didn’t have enough brain cells to form an argument between the burgeoning ache in my teeth begging me to comply and her scent overwhelming my good sense. I snared the fleshy part of her shoulder in my teeth, pressing down until Morgan burst like an inferno in my chest, a torrent of lust and affection dragging me under by the ankles.

With syrup, tea, and copper on my tongue, I forced myself to lean back so I could manage her insistent hips. Morgan arched her whole body in offering when I notched the tip of my cock in her.

Gods help me.

Morgan wasmine.

My omega.

Swimming through the swell of her heat-fueled emotions was like trying to fight a riptide. She swept me further and further out with each orgasm, the clench of her pussy and her pleasure flooding down the bond too much for me to contend with.

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