Page 164 of Knot my First Rodeo

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Tripp's voice is barely restrained. "She's our omega! She's⁠—"

"STOP!" Autumn's voice cuts through the chaos. She's barefoot, wearing my shirt, her hair wild, her face streaked with tears. She pushes past them, drops to her knees in front of me on the gravel, and cups my face in her hands.

"Briggs," she whispers, and her voice breaks.

I lift my hand and run my thumb down her cheek, catching her tear. The bond pulses, soothing, aching, loving.

"Don't cry, Princess," I rasp. "It was deserved."

She shakes her head, mouth opening to argue, but I press my thumb to her lips, silencing her.

"It's out of their system, now." I manage a cracked, bloody smile. "I deserved it. I'm okay."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Her voice shakes, but it's not fear, it's fury. "You two stand there and act like this is all his fault? Like you had nothing to do with it?"

Tripp's jaw drops. "Autumn⁠—"

"No! You listen!" She jabs a finger at them, her scent flaring sharp with anger. "We're in a high-stress situation! There's someone taking pictures of me, a stalker. You knew he was on edge! You knew what was going on between us! You let him take me up there, knowing damn well he was gonna fuck me!"

Clint opens his mouth, but she cuts him off.

"You trusted him? You trusted me? Then trust that I gave myself to him! That I wanted it! That I still want it!"

Silence.

She steps closer to them, her voice dropping but no less intense. "We don't hit each other. We're a pack, a family. We need to stick together, not tear each other apart over something that's already done. You think he didn't feel guilty? You think he doesn't hate himself for losing control?" She gestures at me—bloodied, bruised. "Look at him. He didn't fight back. He took your hits because he knows he fucked up, but we're not gonna fix this by breaking each other."

Autumn

The gravel digs into my knees, but I don't care. I cup Briggs' face in my hands, his blood warm and sticky on my fingers, and I feel the bond thrum between us like a second heartbeat.

Behind me, Clint and Tripp stand frozen. I can hear their breathing, slowing down as the adrenaline bleeds out.

"I got you," I whisper, my thumb tracing his jaw.

He blinks at me, those whiskey eyes hazy with pain and love. The bond pulses, and I feel it; his guilt, his shame, but underneath that, an overwhelming, aching devotion. He'd take a thousand punches for me.

But he doesn't have to.

I turn, still on my knees, facing my other alphas. They're standing there like they've been gut-punched. Tripp's hands are still fisted at his sides, but his knuckles are white from holding back. Clint's chest heaves, his jaw tight, but I see the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Get down here," I say, my voice soft but firm.

Tripp hesitates. "Autumn⁠—"

"Down. Both of you."

They drop. Clint kneels first, then Tripp, both of them meeting me at eye level on the gravel. The four of us, a circle of bruised, broken, beautiful pack.

I take a deep breath. The bond with Briggs hums, warm and new, but I can feel the scent match with Tripp and Clint, a different type of bond built over weeks of care and quiet moments.

"I need you to hear me," I say, looking at each of them in turn. "All of you. This," I touch the mark on my shoulder, flinching slightly at the tenderness, "wasn't something Briggs planned. It wasn't something he took from me. I wanted him. And yes, it happened fast, and yes, it was messy, and yes, emotions were high."

I pause, swallowing hard.

"But I don't regret it. Not a single second of it."

Briggs makes a small sound, a hitch in his breath. I reach back and squeeze his hand without looking away from Clint and Tripp.