Marcus presented me with a pile of much less salubrious fabric. For once, those hazel eyes were gentle, his gaze so soft as he held it out to me. The room smelled sterile and chemically when I stepped in, which was better than being bombarded by all the strange scents in the club, but this…? My hand shot out, grabbing a hold of it.
“This has our scents on it, omega. If you take this and add this to your nest, you’ll start the process of joining our pack. You can stop at any point, but it’ll bring you a step closer to us. I want you to have this. I want you to take our sheets and our old shirts and work them into your pretty, pretty nest, but I want you to want that more.”
I couldn’t form words, could barely comprehend his, but as sure as my heart beat and my lungs filled with air, I knew I needed that wad of fabric. The cramps had eased somewhat as I’d busied myself, but something much bigger was coming and I couldn’t face it without this.
“Please, alpha…”
I’d say those words over and over until the heat was done, but I’d mean them no more sincerely than I did right now. He swept in, with that too crisp shirt and a watch whose shine hurt my eyes, and pressed a single kiss to my forehead.
“Make your nest, omega.”
The command was sure, sharp, unable to be denied, and just what I needed. Like the room, the world closed down now, and so did my mind. This was the purpose of alphas—to remove all distractions and quibbles, to remove fear and uncertainty, and create a space for this to rise. My true nature.
“You’ve spent time with beta men before, and omegas have experienced heats with them. You’re not required by law to choose an alpha as your mate,” my therapist said. “Why do you think you’ve never experienced a heat with another person?”
Silence stretched on and on, my therapist’s gaze constant, but nonthreatening. It just stated quietly that she expected me to answer.
“I don’t know.”
“Really? My studies lead me to believe that every omega experiences one not long after they’re revealed. A childish crush on a classmate, a family friend. There’s even been cases of infatuations with celebrities triggering it. But not you, Cynthia.”
“Cyn.”
“Why not you, Cyn? Your mother has had doctors look you over thoroughly. There’s no physical reason why you shouldn’t. Do you think there’s anything holding you back?”
I had an answer for her, one that sounded of bottles breaking and birds singing and the hiss of the breeze in the trees, but my throat seized up when I tried to articulate it. I couldn’t. She didn’t get it, I knew that but—
“Make your nest, omega.”
Memories were pushed aside as I crawled forward, weaving the sheets from our bed and their unwashed shirts into the nest, working hard to ensure they were distributed evenly throughout the whole construction, and then it was done. I curled up inside the small space and felt it as my eyes closed in one long blink. This had been a very prolonged, confusing journey, but now I was here. The smells, the sensations, all of it… When the next cramp came, it wasn’t so painful, more a flex of my cunt, expelling sweet smelling slick.
“Alpha…” I moaned, little more than an outward breath, but I heard them move. They stood around the perimeter of my nest, standing at the edges, wanting admission. I look up at them through slitted eyes, seeing the dark shapes, tall and almost sinister.
“You have to invite us in, omega,” Marcus said, crouching down. “It’s your nest, your territory. We can’t come in unless you say so.”
Somehow, that was a knife twisting inside me, my clothing too tight, too rough, scratching at my skin. I clawed at it, hearing the satisfying sound of fabric ripping, until I emerged out of it, naked. Then my hands went to my collar.
“No, sweetheart, not that. Leave that,” Brendan said, but I didn’t listen. I shoved my fingers under the strands, gasping as it felt like I was choking.
“Fuck this. She’s going to hurt herself.”
Strong hands at the back of my neck. Yes, yes, that. A sharp twist, and then the coll
ar fell away, tossed across the room by me at force. And there I knelt, head down, hands on my thighs, just breathing for a few heartbeats, until the twists of my insides grew more vicious.
“Alpha…”
My eyes rolled up as I took them in, so close and yet too far away. I was being good, so good, waiting and yearning and needing, and I needed them to help me. They kept insisting on something, for me to say words I couldn’t say, to meet impossible conditions, until finally, the biggest one took a step forward. I nodded over and over, reaching out with an arm that felt too heavy until he took over. A kiss was brushed to the back of my knuckles as my arm was set down by my side, his belt, his boots, his clothes shucked until there was only him.
“Yes, yes, yes…” I kept mumbling as I rose up on my knees, gripping a dick so thick, my insides clenched in anticipation. This was what I needed, I knew it as I licked a line up his length, tasting the salt of his skin, the minty scent of him filling my nose, making me search for more. And then there was his taste. I lapped at the head of his cock, sweeping away every drop of pre-cum, going back over and over, needing that salty taste, then taking him in my throat when I needed more. A long, guttural groan went through my whole body when he was seated as deep as he could, my breath rasping in my nose.
“No, no, no, omega!”
His command was as sharp as a slap, and I sat back, bum on my heels, eyes down, just staring at my nest in incomprehension. My tongue flicked over my teeth, searching for every scrap of his taste and swallowing it down. I needed him, didn’t he see that? Why would he…? How could he…? As if in answer, he knelt down, pushing me back, cocooning me in the bower made of my nesting materials, reaching out with a hand that dwarfed me, and stroked my face. But when the hand kept going, a thumb brushing over my trachea, the palm riding the hollows of my collarbone, when he took my whole breast in my hand, my body jerked.
“Your pleasure first, omega.”
And so he held me down with one hand on my shoulder, the other remaking the curve of my breast in his image, one of pleasure. I started to move in response, my range limited by his grip, the urge transmuting when his fingers narrowed down, plucking at my nipple. He teased it at first, just with little brushes, then harder and harder caresses, until they danced close to a pinch.