Page 27 of Break Me Knot

Slowly, telegraphing every movement, I reach for her ankle, my hand hovering in mid-air. “May I touch you, Omega?”

A moment passes. A heartbeat that makes my forehead break out in a sweat. It drips along the side of my face, but I don’t move. I keep my gaze trained on her face, noting every small twitch in her expression. I will have her consent, as much as she can give it, before I do anything to her.

She nods. Finally. Just the dip of her chin but it’s enough. I let my fingers brush her ankle. The contact sends electricity through me, but I keep my touch feather-light, gentle. Her breath hitches at the contact, a tiny sound that's half fear, half need as her confusion and fear war.

“Your omega recognizes us,” I murmur, thumb stroking softly over her ankle. “Knows we're meant to help you through this. She knows we'll take care of you.”

“Cole...” she whispers, as Zane tenses behind me. Her heat will force her to want all three of us.

I keep my touch steady and gentle. “We'll give you everything you desire.” The 'for now' goes unspoken, but hangs in the air between us. Her body needs us all, but we'll make do with what she'll accept.

She stares at my fingers on her ankle. She’s in so much pain but her body craves relief. The moment stretches, taut with possibility. I hold my breath, waiting for her answer. Behind me, Zane's scent carries notes of desperate hope and fear.

But then...

Her arms lift slowly, reaching for me. The gesture is tiny, hesitant, but unmistakable, an invitation into her nest. Into her space. Into her trust. Her green eyes are wide and glassy, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

“Alpha. Please,” she whispers, and the words contain desperate hope. Her scent shifts, the bitterness softening with acceptance.

My heart breaks and mends at the same moment. This tiny gesture of trust is monumental, precious, fragile as spun glass.

“We've got you, Little One,” I murmur, moving slowly into her space. “We've got you.”

And I silently vow to never give her reason to regret this trust.

I move into her nest with careful deliberation, hyper-aware of how she watches my every movement. Her thin blankets are no protection against the floor, but at least she has soft carpet under her, even though I hate her not being in the nest we prepared for her before we even knew her. The inadequacy of it all makes me ache to provide better, but right now this is her space, her rules, her trust I'm being granted.

Up close, I drink in every detail of her face, the flutter of her pulse at her throat, the way her pupils have dilated until only a thin ring of green remains, the slight tremble in her lower lip.

“May I kiss you?” I ask, hovering over her without touching.

She nods again, her scent spiking with pain and want. Moving slowly, I lower myself until I'm bracketing her small frame with my body, careful not to crush her. The first brush of my lips against hers is gentle. She tastes like heat and need and something uniquely Mira.

She makes a small sound in the back of her throat—surprise or pleasure, I'm not sure—and her hands come up to clutch at my shirt. The touch of her fingers, even through fabric, sends electricity down my spine.

Her lips part, sweet and desperate. My tongue traces her lower lip gently, savoring the small whimper she makes in response. She parts her lips on a sigh and I slide my tongue against hers, the sensation nearly undoing me completely. She tastes of destiny and desire, of everything I never knew I was waiting for.

Her small frame trembles beneath me as I explore her mouth with careful attention, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her press closer. Sugared lilac blooms on my tongue, mixing with the natural sweetness of her mouth. My cock jerks, my knot swelling even more from just this simple contact. Her heat pheromones call to something deep in me, something that wants to roll her beneath me and claim her completely.

But I focus instead on the soft sounds she makes, the way her fingers clutch at my shirt, the tiny movements of her body seeking more contact. Each response is precious, earned through trust rather than taken by force. She arches, pressing closer. Her eyes are glazed, her lips swollen from our kisses. She's stunning. Beautiful. Perfection.

“Alpha,” she whispers against my mouth, and the word contains volumes of trust and fear.

“It's not enough, is it, Little One?” I murmur against her heated skin. “You need both of us.” I press gentle kisses to her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat, the fever of her heat.

She whimpers as another wave crashes through her, her small body arching instinctively. She’s desperate and one alpha won’t be enough to satisfy the demands of her heat.

“Look at Zane,” I whisper, kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear. “He's waiting for your invitation. He'll take such good care of you, Little One, just as I am.”

Her green eyes find Zane where he kneels at the edge of her nest, his massive frame tense with restraint.

“He's your alpha too,” I murmur, trailing soft kisses along her jaw. “Your mate. He'll do anything to help you, to ease your pain.” She shivers at the word 'mate,' recognizing the truth of what I’ve just said even as her mind fights the concept.

“Mates?” Her voice is so small. Soconfused. Her gaze slides over me. I thought she’d have more reaction to that declaration. I don’t expect the way her brows knit, as though she doesn’t know what mates are, which I find erroneous. It’s more like she’s weighing up the validity of my claim.

Surely, she should feel it too?

But then her scent thickens with her heat and desperation, and I don’t know if she’s truly understood at all. Her small hand reaches out toward Zane, shaking slightly. “Please,” she whispers, the word barely audible. “Alpha...”

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