Page 86 of The Knotheads Next Door
"Probably," I agree, settling beside her on the bed. "Does it matter?"
She considers this, then shakes her head. "Not right now."
Theo stretches out on her other side, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. "Rest," he tells her. "We'll be here when you wake up."
Wells hesitates briefly, then joins us, positioning himself at the foot of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Rowan's ankle. Connected but still maintaining some space, in typical Wells fashion.
As Rowan's eyes drift closed, her scent peacefully settling into notes of contentment and belonging, I catch the eyes of my... my what? Packmates? Friends? Something more that we still don't have words for?
Whatever we are, we're in this together now. Committed in a way that transcends the temporary arrangement we started with.
In five days, Rowan's trial month ends. She says she's still leaving, that this changes nothing.
But as I watch her sleeping peacefully, surrounded by three alphas who would move mountains to keep her safe, I can't help thinking she's wrong.
This changes everything.
Chapter 27
Rowan
Iwake to fire, and it’s nothing like I’d experienced before. My skin burns, too sensitive against the sheets beneath me. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my body thrumming with a need so intense it borders on pain. I'm dimly aware that I'm in Jasper's room—his scent the strongest in the space around me—but it's overlaid with Theo and Wells too, the three distinct alpha scents mingling in a combination that makes my omega whine with desperate want.
"Easy," comes Theo's voice, his cool hand pressing against my forehead. "The worst wave is hitting. Just breathe through it."
I try to focus on his face, but my vision swims, heat blurring the edges of everything. "I can't—" I gasp, arching as another spike of need pulses through me. "Theo, please—"
"We're here," he assures me, his voice steady despite the alpha pheromones I can smell pouring off him in response to my heat. "All of us. Whatever you need."
"Everything," I admit, past the point of pride or pretense. "I need everything."
I hear movement around the room, low murmurs between the alphas as they prepare...something. My attention fragments, unable to focus on anything but the emptiness inside me, the slick heat between my thighs, the desperate need to be filled, claimed, knotted.
"Rowan," Wells's voice now, closer than I expected. "We need to prepare a proper nest. May we use your room to collect what you need?"
I nod frantically, not caring what they find, just wanting relief from this burning need. Through the heat-haze, I dimly register that they might discover...things I'd rather they didn't. But the thought slips away as another wave crashes through me, pulling a whimper from my throat.
Jasper appears in my vision, his expression tight with restraint.
"Tell us what you want, Rowan. Explicitly. We need to hear it."
Even now, in the throes of heat-madness, they're asking for consent. Making sure. The realization cuts through the fog enough for me to form coherent words.
"I want you," I say, reaching for him. "All of you. Please, Jasper. Theo. Wells. I need—I need to be knotted. Claimed. I can't stand it anymore."
A low growl rumbles through Jasper's chest, his eyes darkening with alpha desire. "You're sure? Because once we start—"
"Yes," I insist, past the point of doubt or hesitation. "I've never been more sure of anything."
That's all it takes to break the last thread of his control. Jasper leans down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that's all heat and possession, his hands cupping my face with surprising gentleness despite the intensity of his desire. I melt into it, opening for him, surrendering to the alpha I've been fighting my attraction to for weeks.
When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide, his breathing ragged. "Wait here," he says, as if I'm capable of going anywhere in this state. "We need to finish the nest first."
The wait is torturous, my body cycling through waves of heat that leave me trembling and desperate. I hear them moving between my room and Jasper's, bringing bedding, water bottles, and other supplies. Through the heat-haze, I register voices—sometimes tense, sometimes amused—but I can't focus enough to make out words.
Until, "What the hell is this?"
Jasper's voice, sharp with surprise. Footsteps approach the bed, and I force my eyes open to see him standing there, holding...oh god. In his hands is his missing flannel shirt—the one I'd "borrowed" weeks ago and kept hidden under my pillow, where I could press my face into it when the need for his scent became too strong to resist.
