Page 55 of Knot My Type

"I need—" She breaks off, breathing hard. "I need more. Please."

The please breaks something in me. I move closer, carefully bracketing her other side so she's surrounded by pack scent. The effect is immediate—her breathing eases slightly, and some of the desperate edge leaves her movements.

"Better?" I ask.

"Yes, but still not enough." Her voice is thick with need. "I need to feel you. Really feel you."

Kael's control finally cracks. He moves up the bed in one fluid motion, his large hands framing her face. "Are you asking us to claim you, omega?"

The title makes her shiver, but not with fear. With want.

"Yes," she breathes. "Please, alpha. Claim me."

What happens next is both primal and tender. Kael's mouth finds hers in a kiss that's hungry but careful, conscious of her fragile state. She melts into him with a soft moan that goes straight to my hindbrain.

Rhys and I share a look over her head—part wonder, part desperate need. This is really happening. After weeks of careful dancing around each other, of suppressed desire and unspoken wants, she's finally asking for what we've all been craving.

When Kael pulls back, her lips are swollen and her eyes are glazed with heat. "More," she whispers.

"Greedy omega," Rhys teases gently, but his voice is strained with his own need.

"Your greedy omega," she corrects, and the possessiveness in her voice makes all three of us groan.

The next few minutes become a careful choreography of touch and comfort. Hands map skin, mouths find sensitive spots, clothes disappear with reverent care. She responds to every touch like she's been starved for it—which, I realize, she probably has been.

When Rhys's mouth finds the scent gland at her throat, she arches with a cry that's pure omega submission. The sound triggers every alpha and beta instinct I have, and I have to force myself to stay gentle, to remember she's precious and needs care.

"Please," she whimpers against Kael's mouth. "I need—I need you inside me. Need to feel complete."

"Which one of us?" Kael asks, though I can see the strain of holding back in every line of his body.

"All of you," she says without hesitation. "One at a time, together, however it works. I just need to be full. Need to be claimed."

The logistics are tricky, but we make it work. Kael goes first, his massive frame covering her completely as he works her open with careful fingers and patient kisses. When he finally slides home, the sound she makes is pure relief.

"There," he murmurs against her throat. "There's our omega. So perfect for us."

Rhys takes his turn next, his longer frame folding around her as Kael holds her steady. The sight of them together, of her taking what she needs from both alphas, is enough to make my vision blur.

When they finally turn to me, she's glowing with satisfaction but still hungry for more.

"Beta," she calls softly, and the title from her lips makes my knees weak. "I need you too."

"I'm here," I tell her, settling between her spread thighs. "Always here for you."

The feeling of sliding into her heat-slick body is indescribable. She's perfect—tight and wet and so responsive that every small movement makes her gasp. But more than the physical sensation is the emotional one. The sense of completion, of finding the missing piece of our pack.

"Yes," she breathes, her hands tangling in my hair. "Yes, this is what I needed. All of you."

We move together in a rhythm that feels ancient, instinctive. Taking turns, sharing her between us, making sure she never feels empty or alone. When the first knot begins to form, she cries out in relief.

"Finally," she sobs against Kael's chest as his knot locks them together. "Finally, finally."

The bonding bite, when it comes, is gentle despite the circumstances. Kael's teeth find the traditional mating spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder, and the taste of her blood on his lips makes something primitive and satisfied settle in my chest.

Rhys follows suit when his knot takes hold, marking the other side of her throat with reverent care. When my turn comes, I choose a spot just above her heart—the beta's traditional place, close to her emotional center.

The metallic taste of her blood mingles with the salt of her sweat and the musk of our combined scents. It's overwhelming and perfect and exactly right.

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