Page 61 of Stuck with my Pack
Butshedeserves more than instinct, more than a decision made under the haze of heat and primal need.
I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “We’ll be everything for her. Whatever she needs—however she needs us. We’ll take care of her. We’ll hold her through it, ease the ache, give her everything—knot her until she so sated she can’t fucking move.”
My voice drops, rough and edged with restraint, “But wewon’tbite her.”
Tyler swears under his breath, his frustration bleeding into the air, but he nods, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Even if she begs,” Ethan mutters, like he needs to hear himself say it out loud, like he needs to make it real.
The words land like a vow, solidifying between us, and even though every muscle in my body is screaming to take, to claim, to make her ours—we won’t because Sophie deserves the choice.
When the heat fades, when the instincts settle, she’ll wake in our arms and know with certainty that we are hers because shewants us, not just because her body needs us. And that? That’s worth waiting for.
We won’t claim her in heat.
Even if she begs.
Even if it destroys us.
I force my legs to move, to turn away, my body rigid with restraint. “We need to get out of here,” I grind out, voice rough.
Tyler lets out a rough laugh, humorless and full of strain. “What, and let her scent up this whole damn house while we’re stuck outside like a bunch of animals waiting for scraps?”
Ethan doesn’t say anything. He just stalks toward the front door and grabs his coat like he needs to get out before his self-control snaps entirely. I follow him because it’s either that or stay here and break every promise I just made to myself.
“We’re shoveling the driveway,” Ethan says, yanking the door open.
“We already shoveled the driveway,” Tyler mutters, but he’s following us outside anyway, the cold air slamming into us like a much-needed slap in the face.
The cold does little to cool the fire burning in my veins.
I grip the shovel harder than necessary, driving it into the packed-down snow with more force than I should. My body is coiled tight, my muscles aching with restraint, my cock so hard it aches in my pants, but I keep digging into the snow, throwing it into useless piles, letting the physical exertion work through the tension.
Tyler lets out a grunt, leaning on his own shovel. His usually playful smirk is absent, replaced by something more frustrated, more serious. “This is torture.”
I ignore him, shoving another scoop of snow aside.
“She’s up there, in our clothes,” Tyler continues, his voice dropping into something rough, something almost pained. “I betshe’s buried in our shirts, our scent all over her. You know she’s thinking about us.” As he speaks, he adjust his own cock.
Ethan makes a rough sound, barely more than a growl. “Iknow,” he grits out, gripping the handle of his shovel like it’s the only thing keeping him anchored to the spot. His breathing is heavier than it should be, his shoulders tense beneath his coat.
We all know.
Weallfucking know.
Sophie is upstairs, her body preparing for her first real heat, a shift so natural but so dangerous for an unmated Omega. Her instincts will take over, and we won’t be able to stop her from needing us, from calling for us.
She’ll be slick and desperate, her scent filling every inch of her nest. She’ll want hands on her, mouths on her, knots inside of her, tying her to us in the most primal, unbreakable way possible.
“Fucking nature,” Tyler mutters, stabbing his shovel into the snow like it personally offended him.
Ethan exhales through his nose, long and slow, before finally glancing up at the house. His gaze lingers on Sophie’s window, his jaw clenching before he looks away. “We’re not going to survive this, are we?” He gives a rueful chuckle that lacks any real humor.
I don’t answer, All I know is that we made a choice. And when Sophiedoescall for us, when sheasks—really asks—we’ll be there.
Not because instinct demands it.
But because we love her.
