Page 95 of Knot So Sweet
Three unmated alphas in an enclosed space with an omega going into heat.
This could go catastrophically wrong if we're not careful.
"How certain are you?" Liam already shifts into doctor mode, professional despite how his fingers drum against his thigh in a tell he probably doesn't know he has. "About the timing? The onset?"
"Pretty certain." Violet's voice has gone breathy, strained. She shifts again, pressing her thighs together under the table. "Everything feels hypersensitive. Touch, sound, smell. Especially smell. I can pick out each of your scents individually and it's driving me..."
She stops, cheeks flushing darker.
"Driving you what?" I prompt gently.
"Wild." The word comes out barely above a whisper. "Making me crave things I shouldn't crave yet. Making me think about..."
Another gust of wind rattles the windows. The lights flicker once, twice, then die completely.
Darkness swallows the kitchen. Only candles remain, golden light pooling around our table while the storm rages beyond these walls. The sudden loss of electric hum makes everything else seem louder. Wind. Snow against glass. Our breathing.
"Generator's in the basement," Garrick says, already pushing back from the table. His chair scrapes against tile, loud in the new quiet.
"Leave it." My tactical brain runs scenarios, calculating risks and resources. "We have enough light. More importantly, we should get Violet somewhere safe before the next wave hits."
"Wave?" Her fingers grip the table edge, knuckles going white. "There are waves?"
"Heat comes in cycles," Liam explains gently, rising from his seat. "Building intensity until it peaks, then temporary relief before the next one builds. Like..." He searches for comparison. "Like contractions, almost. Your body preparing."
"How temporary?" Violet looks between us now, fear starting to thread through her aroma. "The relief?"
"Few hours if you're lucky." Liam moves around the table toward her. "Less if your body's been cycling naturally for months without suppressants. It'll be compensating for lost time."
She processes this information. I watch her spine straighten despite the flush spreading down her throat, disappearing beneath the neckline of her blue sweater. Even now, facing biology she can't command, she tries to stay composed.
"Okay." Her voice comes steadier than I expected. "So what do I do? What do we do?"
The question hangs in candlelit air. What do we do? Three alphas who've been circling her for weeks, touching and tasting and building toward this moment. And now biology forces a decision none of us expected to make tonight.
Except maybe we are ready. Maybe we've been ready since the moment she walked into Garrick's bakery with nothing but hope and desperation, and we all looked at each other and knew.
"You should nest," Garrick says quietly. His dark gaze locks on Violet, assessing with the same intensity he brings toevaluating dough. "Somewhere safe. Comfortable. Where you can ride this out without feeling exposed."
"I don't know how to nest." Panic edges into her voice now. "I've never... Mark never let me. Said it was primitive. That modern omegas didn't have to..."
"Your instincts will know," Liam interrupts gently. "Your body knows what it requires. You just have to listen to it."
Wind hammers the building again, hard enough that something crashes in the alley beyond. Metal on pavement, loud even through walls. The storm's getting worse, not better. Roads will be impassable within the hour if they aren't already.
We're trapped here together. Four people, one omega in heat, three alphas whose restraint already frays at the edges.
Could be a disaster. Could be exactly what we all crave.
"Upstairs," I say, standing. The chair scrapes against tile, echoing Garrick's earlier movement. "Your apartment. More private than down here. More defensible."
The military term slips out before I can stop it. But it's accurate. Upstairs we can monitor access, ensure she's safe from anyone who might catch her scent on the wind.
Not that there's anyone else around. The storm's seen to that.
Violet nods, starting to rise. Her legs shake enough that she has to brace one hand on the table for support. Liam's beside her immediately, one palm securing her elbow to steady her.
"I've got you," he murmurs, and something in my chest tightens at the tenderness in his voice.
