Page 21 of Bonds and Beasts

She flinched away from me. She hates me. I have no right to demand anything more.

Adison

Iwon’t be a charity case. Yes, I’m ill. Yes, I need my mates to help me get better, and it’s such a relief to have Dean and Easton, who seem to be more than happy to help me. Dean has been nothing but enthusiastic and open since he found me, and Easton is so knowledgeable. Every touch goes straight to my frayed nervous system, soothing every part like cold water on hot coals.

Bello’s expression is all anger and regret. Every time I look at him, his countenance is dark and melancholy. I know he hates me being his pack omega because of the rut my overactive scent threw him into. The medication they gave me for scent suppression at the hospital has helped, but the memory of losing control like that must be awful. Every time our eyes meet, I feel like I’m reminding him.

I’m overcome with guilt, but words are too far beyond me, and I can’t imagine how many pages I’d need to write it all out.

We reach the top of the stairs and pause.

“Our stuff is in our temporary rooms near the west wing entrance, but if you’d rather steer clear, we can get them once you’ve picked a room and are settled,” Dean offers, the tips of his fingers absently grazing up and down my back as he talks as though touching me has become his new normal.

My inner omega preens. The little beast loves the attention after so long without. First biting, now preening.

I shake my head and turn left, following the hall. The red door to the west wing is at the end, and fear clenches my chest for a moment, stealing my breath away.

A few small breaths and the tightness eases. I’m not going to the west wing today. No one’s making me. My fingers stay firmly in Easton’s grip as I glide toward the hallway with the rooms they’re staying in. One door has darker wood than the rest. I know the room will have a fireplace on the left-hand wall. The window opposite the door will look down on the town and beyond to the lake. I’ll be more comfortable between these solid four walls than anywhere else in the manor.

I push the door open. It grinds on its hinges like a song, like a lullaby from long ago. Everything’s how I remember it. Even my four-poster bed frame is the same, though the linens have been changed and now it smells of smoke and evergreen. That scent tugs at my core, aching to combine with Easton and Dean. Over my shoulder, I find Bello’s brooding form hunched at the end of the hall.

Dean looks from me to his lead alpha. “Sweet Girl, this is—”

“It’s fine,” Bello near-barks, sending me trembling in Easton’s arms. Bello catches it, and for a moment his expression softens. “I can sleep somewhere else.” And with that he turns and strides back up the hallway. I swallow down the sharp omega whines trying to slit their way out of my throat.

The big rumpled bed with dark duvet and thousand-thread count sheets smells of him, heady and all-encompassing. I can’t help but immediately climb in, burrowing into the sheets like a rabbit into its den.

His scent is the final piece I needed to join with the two others in his pack. Everything starts to go hazy at the edges. My body feels hot, and my clothes suddenly feel scratchy and coarse. I need them off.

I rise to a kneeling position on the mattress to free my arms as I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. An intake of breath draws my attention. Two alphas stand at the foot of the bed. Their names are lost to my omega haze, but I do know they’re my mates and I need them right now.

I fall forward so that I’m on all fours as I crawl to the end of the bed where they both stand.

“Good goddamn, Sweetheart,” the one with glasses breathes. I glance down to the noticeable bulge in his pants.

“Fuck, do we even have permission to—?” the other one asks. I can’t remember his name either, but I remember he’s very kind.

“Yeah, she signed the easing forms. There’s a whole list of do’s and don’ts in my bag.”

The nice alpha moves away, and it makes me want to cry. Where the hell could he be going right now?

Warm fingers curl around my jaw, gently moving my face to look at the one in glasses. “He’s coming back, Sweetheart. Don’t be sad. I’m here.”

His scent, sand and books, twists around me, melding with the smell in the sheets to make me nearly feral. The kind alpha comes back with papers, scanning through them quickly. He nods and hands the papers over to the man with glasses.

I’m not patient enough for this right now. I lean down and out of the alpha’s grasp to bring my face level with his hard length through the material of his clothes. I rub my lips along it from the outside. The alpha, Dean I remember suddenly, makes a choked noise. I can’t help but smile as my stomach clenches, my body burning.

I mewl, long and desperate.

“Fuckin’, baby, I—” Dean starts, but he can’t seem to hold it together as I drag my tongue up the front of the fabric over his equally impressive bulge.

I want to keep going, but a heat cramp rolls through my center and I double over, clutching my middle. It's a heat spike. I've had them before and had to miserably ride them out by myself in the past.

“Sweetheart, lay back.” The one with glasses speaks softly. Easton. The name drifts back to me like a dream. Dean watches me with deep concern in every line of his face.

They move me carefully, and I let them guide my head to the pillow so I’m lying on my back.

“As much as we appreciate the enthusiasm, we want to take care of you right now. Okay, Sweet Girl?” Dean says.