Page 85 of The Knotheads Next Door
The raw honesty in her voice breaks something open inside me. Before I can think better of it, I brush my lips against her forehead, a gesture of comfort more than passion.
"You know us," I tell her, the words feeling like a vow. "You know we've got you."
We reach the house in record time, Wells parking haphazardly in the driveway—a testament to his concern, given his usual insistence on perfect alignment. Theo is out of the car first, opening doors, clearing the path. Always the caretaker, even now.
I carry Rowan inside, her body still burning against mine, though the worst of the distress has eased from her scent. The house—our house—welcomes us with the mingled scents of pack. Of home.
In the living room, I finally set her down on the couch, though I remain close, unwilling to break contact completely. Theo appears with water, cool cloths, the basic necessities for heat comfort. Wells stands slightly apart, his posture rigid with control that's visibly slipping.
"What do you need?" Theo asks Rowan directly, professional despite the alpha need evident in his scent. "Be specific. We want to help, but boundaries matter."
She looks between the three of us, vulnerability and want warring with her ingrained independence. "I need... I need scent. Contact." A flush that has nothing to do with heat spreads across her cheeks. “Just... comfort. Alpha pheromones help with the symptoms."
"All of us?" Wells asks, his voice carefully neutral though his eyes betray his hope.
She nods, not meeting any of our gazes. "If that's... if you're all willing."
"We're willing," I say immediately, speaking for all of us because in this, I know we're united. "More than willing."
Theo approaches first, his movements careful as he settles on the couch beside Rowan. His hand gently brushes her hair back from her face, a silent question in the gesture.
She leans into his touch, her body language giving permission where words fail her. He responds immediately, drawing her into his arms, one hand cradling the back of her head as he presses his face to her neck, beginning the scent-marking that had helped her yesterday.
The sight of them together stirs something in me—not jealousy this time, but a warmth I scarcely recognize. They fit together, Theo's gentle strength complementing Rowan's fiery vulnerability. It looks right. It feels right.
"Jasper," Theo says, breaking me from my thoughts. "Wells. She needs all of us."
I don't hesitate this time, moving to the couch and settling on Rowan's other side. Her heat-scent engulfs me as I carefully pull her half into my lap, my larger frame curved protectively around her smaller one. I nuzzle against her temple, her jaw, marking her with my scent even as Theo continues his attentions on her other side.
Wells is the last to join, his usual restraint finally giving way as he kneels before the couch.
He takes one of Rowan's hands, pressing it to his cheek, then turning to brush his wrist against her inner arm, marking her in his own way. More reserved, perhaps, but no less claiming.
Rowan shudders between us, but it's different now—relief rather than distress. Her body softens, melting into our combined embrace as her omega instincts finally, finally surrender to what she needs. To what we all need.
"Alpha," she murmurs, the word slipping out unbidden. Then, realizing what she's said, she corrects herself: "Alphas."
"That's right, sweetheart," Theo murmurs, his voice warm with approval. "Your alphas."
"We've got you," I add, my own voice rougher but no less sincere.
"Always," Wells promises, the simple word carrying weight from a man who chooses his words as carefully as he does everything else.
For the first time since her heat began, Rowan truly relaxes, her scent mellowing from sharp distress to something sweeter, more content. The fever still burns through her, but it's manageable now, tempered by our collective presence, our scents, our touch.
"We should move her upstairs," Theo suggests after a while. "More comfortable. More private."
I nod, already shifting to lift her. She makes a small sound of protest when contact breaks, quickly soothed when I gather her against my chest once more.
"My room," I say, surprising even myself with the offer. "It's the largest."
Theo and Wells exchange a glance, then nod in agreement. There's no discussion needed now, no negotiation of boundaries or territories. This is about what Rowan needs. What we all need.
I carry her up the stairs, Theo and Wells close behind. My room welcomes us with my concentrated scent—a space I've never willingly shared with anyone before. But as I lay Rowan gently on my bed, as Theo and Wells join us without hesitation, it doesn't feel like an invasion.
It feels like completion.
Rowan looks up at the three of us, her expression dazed but more lucid than before. "This is crazy," she whispers, a hint of her usual wry humor returning. "You know that, right?"
