Page 75 of The Knotheads Next Door
What? What does she need that I can give her? That any of us can give her, when she's made it clear she wants to handle this alone?
Before Theo can make it to the stairs, a sound stops all of us in our tracks. A whimper—small, pained, desperate—drifting down from Rowan's room. It hits me like a physical blow, sending a surge of protective rage through my system that nearly brings me to my knees.
Something in me snaps.
I'm up the stairs before I register moving, Theo and Wells's startled voices fading behind me. Outside Rowan's door, her scent is so concentrated it makes my head swim—sweet and sharp and needy in a way that makes my alpha howl.
I pound on the door, harder than intended. "Rowan. Open the damn door."
Silence. Then, "Go away, Jasper."
Her voice is weak, threaded with pain that she's trying and failing to hide. It only fuels the fire burning through me.
"Not happening," I growl. "Open the door or I swear to god I'll break it down."
"You wouldn't dare," she challenges, but there's a waver in her voice that tells me she's not as certain as she'd like to be.
"Try me," I say, my voice dropping lower, rougher. "You know exactly how I feel about boundaries right now."
A rustling sound, then footsteps. The lock clicks, but the door doesn't open. I wait, forcing myself to be patient, to give her this small measure of control.
Finally, the door cracks open an inch, then another. Just enough for me to see her—flushed, trembling, her pupilsblown wide with need she's fighting with every ounce of her considerable stubbornness.
The sight of her like this, vulnerable in a way I've never seen before, hits me harder than I expected. My anger softens, replaced by an ache that has nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the desperate need to ease her suffering.
"You're having a heat," I say, stating the obvious because I don't trust myself with anything more complex. "A real one. Not a spike."
She nods, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "I noticed."
Despite everything, a small laugh escapes me. Even now, in the throes of her first heat, she's still Rowan—sharp-tongued and defiant.
"You can't do this alone," I tell her, gentler now but no less firm. "It's not safe."
"I've been handling things on my own for a long time," she says, but the words lack conviction. Even as she speaks, a shudder runs through her, and she grips the doorframe to stay upright.
"And how's that working out for you right now?" I ask, echoing my words from earlier.
Her eyes flash with familiar irritation before another wave of heat hits her, making her gasp and curl in on herself. My hands twitch with the need to reach for her, to soothe, to hold, but I force them to stay at my sides. This has to be her choice.
Behind me, I sense rather than hear Theo and Wells approaching. They stop a respectful distance away, but their scents mingle with mine, creating a potent mixture of alpha pheromones that makes Rowan whimper again, her body responding instinctively even as her mind resists.
"I don't know what to do," she finally admits, the words clearly costing her. "I don't—I've never—this isn't how I thought it would happen."
The raw vulnerability in her voice breaks something open in my chest. This isn't about desire anymore, or instinct, or the complicated attraction that's been building between us all for weeks. This is about Rowan— who is scared, overwhelmed, and in need of help she doesn't know how to ask for.
"Fuck," I swear under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
Because the truth is, I don't know what to do either. None of us does. This situation, three alphas, one omega experiencing her first heat, a tangle of emotions and attractions that defies simple categorization... this isn't covered in any manual.
We're all flying blind here, guided only by instincts that can't be trusted and feelings too new and fragile to name.
But one thing I do know: I'm not leaving her to suffer alone. Not when every cell in my body is screaming to protect her. Not when the thought of her in pain makes me want to tear the world apart with my bare hands.
Not when, against all my better judgment, I've allowed myself to care about her far more than I ever intended.
Chapter 23
Theo
