Page 29 of Stuck with my Pack
But even as I try to lose myself in the view, the heat inside me pulls my thoughts back, relentless in its demand for something I don’t know how to give.
What if I can’t handle this? What if I can’t do this on my own? The thought claws at me, and for a moment, I feel the edges of panic creeping in.
I press my palm to my chest, focusing on the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, and force myself to keep moving. The solitude of the dock helps, each step forward easing the knot in my chest. But just as I begin to feel the slightest semblance of control, I scent him. Our scents mingle together, weaving a tapestry of need.
Brodie.
He’s sitting at the very edge of the pier, his legs dangling over the water, the soft, flickering glow of the nearby lanterns illuminates his broad-shouldered frame. His profile is relaxed, but there’s an air of quiet strength about him, as if he’s part of the stillness around him.
The sight of him makes my breath hitch, the tightness in my chest shifting to a burning fire in my core. An electric awareness replaces the soothing calm I’d found just moments ago.
For a second, I consider turning back, but my feet betray me, carrying me forward almost without my permission.
“Hey,” I call out softly, stopping a few feet away. My voice wavers slightly, betraying the turmoil beneath my calm exterior.
He glances over his shoulder, his amber eyes warm and inviting. “Hey yourself,” he replies, his tone easy but edged with curiosity. “Was hoping I’d run into you, but wasn’t sure you’d show up at the festival. What are you doing?”
“Needed some air,” I say simply, my voice almost a whimper now.
His gaze lingers on me for a beat, as if he can sense that there’s more to it than that. Then he lifts his arm. “Come sit. The view’s pretty good tonight.”
I hesitate for just a moment before stepping closer and lowering myself onto the dock beside him, letting his arm pull me into his side. The wood is cool beneath me, and the ocean breeze brushes against my skin, but none of it is enough to drown out the heat building inside me.
This was a bad plan. I should have backed up and gone the opposite direction.
The silence stretches between us, not awkward, but heavy with unspoken things. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and I can’t hide the need building in me. The flicker of understanding in his gaze makes my breath catch.
“You okay?” he asks finally, his voice softer now, laced with a concern that tugs at something deep inside me.
I hesitate, the weight of my swirling emotions pressing down on me. And then, almost without thinking, the words spill out. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like...I can’t think straight. My body feels like it’s not my own, and every time I’m around any of you—” I break off, my cheeks burning, unable to finish the sentence.
Brodie’s expression shifts, his brows furrowing slightly as he leans in to rub his nose along the column of my neck. He inhales deeply.
“Sophie,” he says, his voice firm, “Are you…Are you in heat?”
The question catches me off guard, and my first instinct is to deny it, but the words stick in my throat. Because deep down, I know he’s right. The heat, the need, the way my body reacts to him, to Ethan, to Tyler—it all makes sense now, even if I don’t want to admit it.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Maybe. I’ve never?—”
Brodie’s entire body goes rigid the moment the realization hits him. His nostrils flare wide, sucking in a sharp breath, and the shift in him is immediate—raw, unrestrained, unmistakably Alpha.
The muscles in his arms flex as his hands clench at his sides, like he’s fighting the primal urge clawing at his control. His amber eyes darken, pupils dilating as he takes another deep inhale, his jaw going tight.
“Fuck,” he rasps, barely more than a growl.
The sound vibrates through me, deep and guttural, sending a shudder down my spine. My Omega whines in response, reacting instinctively to his sudden change, my body heating further.
The air around us crackles, thick with tension, with need. I can feel his restraint unraveling, his Alpha instincts crashing over him like a tidal wave.
His hands twitch, like he wants to grab me but is holding himself back. His breath is heavier now, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to steady himself. But it’s useless—my scent has him locked in place, trapped in the pull of my heat, and we both know it.
“Sophie,” he grits out, voice rough, almost desperate. “You—” He swallows hard, his eyes locked on me with a hunger that makes my stomach flip. “You smell so fucking good.”
I suck in a shaky breath, my thighs clenching together, slick soaking my underwear as his words make my skin burn hotter. I know I should be afraid of how fast this is happening, of how intense it is. But I’m not.
Brodie makes a strangled sound, his control slipping further. His hands move before he can stop them, gripping my hips, fingers digging in like he’s anchoring himself, like he needs to feel me everywhere.
“You’re in heat,” he says again, but this time it’s not calm. It’s rough, possessive like it’s breaking him apart to just sit here and not act.
