Page 97 of Knot So Sweet
"Not weird," I interrupt, already reaching for the hem of my black t-shirt. "Completely normal. Your omega craves pack scent in your nest."
I strip the shirt off in one smooth motion, left standing in just jeans and boots. The air feels cool against my skin after the warmth of fabric. I hand it to her and she presses it to her face immediately, breathing deep.
Her eyes flutter closed. A sound escapes her throat that radiates satisfaction, almost obscene in its honesty.
"Better?" My voice has gone rough despite my best efforts.
"Better." She opens her eyes, clutching my shirt to her chest. But she looks at Garrick and Liam expectantly, waiting.
Garrick sheds his flannel without hesitation, flour dust and all. The scent of bread and burnt sugar clings to the fabric, unmistakable. He hands it over and Violet buries her face in it, inhaling like she's been drowning and just found air.
Liam pulls off his henley, revealing the white t-shirt beneath. But when Violet makes a sound of protest, he strips that off too. Standing shirtless in her apartment, all lean muscle and golden skin in candlelight.
Three shirts. Three alphas offering pieces of themselves.
She arranges them in her nest with reverent care. Garrick's tucked into the left corner, positioned where her head will rest. Mine goes in the right corner, mirror image. Liam's spreads across the center cushions where her body will lay, saturating the space with cedar and vanilla.
Then she climbs in.
Burrowing under blankets and between pillows until she's surrounded by soft things and pack scent. The relief on her face appears immediate and overwhelming. Muscles I didn't realize were tense suddenly relaxing, expression smoothing into something peaceful.
"Good," Liam says softly, moving closer. "That's ideal, Violet. You did so well."
But I can smell the next wave building. Her aroma intensifies again, sweetening until my mouth waters. The vanilla and honey go richer, deeper, mixing with something that carries the tang of slick and longing and omega ready to be claimed.
"It's getting worse." Her fingers clutch at blankets, knuckles white with pressure. "Why is it worse? I thought the nest would help."
"It is helping," I explain, kneeling beside the couch so I'm eye level with her. "But building your nest signaled to your body that you're safe. Now it knows it can stop fighting. Let the heat come fully."
"I don't want to fight it." Her gaze locks on mine, pupils blown so wide she looks high. "I crave... I require..."
She can't finish. Doesn't have words for what biology demands.
"Tell us what you require," Garrick says. He's knelt on her other side now, close enough to touch but waiting for permission. "Be specific."
"You." The word comes out broken, desperate. "All of you. I don't want to do this alone. Can't do this alone. Please don't make me..."
"Hey." I cut her off gently, one hand cupping her face. Her skin blazes hot beneath my palm, fever burning through her. "You're not doing this alone. We're not going anywhere."
"Promise?" Her voice sounds so small, so vulnerable.
"Promise." The word becomes a vow. "All three of us. Right here. Whatever you require."
"But..." She struggles now, words fighting through the fog of heat clouding her mind. "I don't know how this works. Don't know what I'm supposed to do. Mark never... we never..."
She trails off, shame mixing with the heat scent. And suddenly I understand.
"He never helped you through a heat," I say quietly. Statement, not question.
"He said suppressants were easier. Cleaner. That natural heats were..." She swallows hard. "Primitive. Disgusting. That modern omegas didn't subject themselves to that anymore."
Fury burns through me, hot and sharp. The idea of anyone making Violet feel ashamed of her biology, of denying her the care she required during heat, makes me want to track down this Mark character and have a very pointed conversation.
"He was wrong," Liam says firmly. His hand cups her other cheek, cradling her face between both of us. "Heats aren't disgusting. They're natural. Beautiful. And you deserve to be cared for during them."
"We're going to take care of you," Garrick adds, voice rough with barely restrained desire. "All of us. Together. If you'll let us."
Together.
