Page 25 of Break Me Knot

The memory slams into me, three days of agony in an abandoned warehouse, clawing at my own skin, biting through my lip to keep quiet. The taste of bloodin my mouth, the hard concrete against my fevered skin, the terror of being found before I shake it off. “No. Not my first.”

“How many heats have you experienced?”

“Just the one.” I look away from his careful gaze, studying the spotless white bedding instead. “It…was enough.”

His look when I finally turn back is weighted, measured. Of course, he knows what this means—that I've been using suppressants to stop my natural cycle. Even if they weren’t black market, it’s only safe to skip one heat. Two at the most. Not two years’ worth.

His scent remains neutral, non-judgmental, but I see him mentally adding this to his notes. Adding it to whatever other conclusions he's drawn from my malnourished frame and collection of scars.

“Your body has been denied its natural cycle for too long. This heat will be more intense than any other heat.” He pauses, then adds, “Adrian, Zane, and Cole are good alphas. I've known them since they started Pinnacle a decade ago. You're in good hands.”

I don't know what to say to that. Don't know how to process an alpha being described as “good.” I just mumble a thank you, the words inadequate.

“You're severely dehydrated,” he continues, professional mask back in place. He indicates the bottles of water Zane left on the nightstand. “I’d suggest an IV but I don’t think you’d let me administer that to you. Drink as much as you can, and rest while you're able before your heat fully starts.”

My eyes drift to the double doors I haven't dared open. The nest room. Every omega instinct I possess knows what lies beyond those doors… soft things, safe things, everything I need for what's coming, but once I cross that threshold, there's no turning back. Once I enter that space, I'll be at the mercy of my biology. And these alphas.

“Thank you,” I say again as he packs up his bag. “Can you tell them I’d…like to be left alone?”

He nods, understanding in his kind eyes, and leaves me with my thoughts and my rising heat.

I curl tighter into myself, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to ignore how empty the room is without anyone's scent to ground me. Trying to ignore how my eyes keep drifting to those doors. Trying to ignore how my body screams for what it wants, even as my mind rebels against it.

At least the bedroom door remains closed. The alphas respect my wishes more than I expected. Their scents linger in the air, though, mixing together in a combination that makes my omega side whine. A wave of arousal claws through my insides, and a whimper claws up my throat. The massive bed is too exposed, too open, and those double doors leading to the proper nest room make my omega nature keen with want. But I can't. Won't. A proper nest means submission, giving in. It means accepting what's coming.

My legs shake so badly I have to brace against the wall as I scramble out of the bed and retrieve my pack to pull my blankets out. They're thin and worn, the fabric pilled and faded, but they’re mine.

The massive walk-in closet catches my eye, dark, enclosed, defensible. Perfect. Only one entrance to watch, walls on three sides, and enough space to curl up in the back corner. My omega hindbrain approves of this shelter, even as my rational mind shakes its head and tells me how pathetic it is to be hiding in a closet.

I drag my blankets to the very back corner, and I tremble as I arrange my pathetic nest, smoothing the blankets over plush carpet. I curl into the corner where the walls meet. Sweat soaks through Zane's borrowed shirt as a wave of heat crashes over me, stronger now. My body trembles with fire and fear and I quickly succumb to pure exhaustion.

I drift in and out of consciousness, fever-dreams merging with reality. An inferno burns through my blood and makes every nerve ending scream. I'm being flayed alive from the inside out. Sweat soaks through Zane's shirt, making it cling to my oversensitive skin in a way that's both torture and not enough contact.

Dr. Maverick was right. This heat is different. Worse. Years of suppressed biology demand payment with interest. The pain twists through my abdomen, sharp and deep, making me curl into a ball on my pathetic nest. My insides are being torn apart, my body trying to turn itself inside out. Slick soaks throughmy clothes, through my thin blankets, my body preparing for something I don't want. The scent of my arousal fills the small space, mixing with my distress.

Time loses all meaning. Minutes or hours pass as I writhe on the floor, fighting my own nature. My hand slips between my legs, desperate for relief, for anything to ease the burn. I hate myself for it, hate how easily my body betrays me, hate the emptiness clawing my insides despite my fingers working frantically. Every touch brings pleasure edged with pain, satisfaction that never quite reaches completion.

But it's not enough. Nothing is enough. My body yearns for knots, claiming, completion. Things I've denied for too long. My abdomen tenses, hurting when I can’t reach my climax, and a deep pain blooms through my body, leaving me more desperate than before. The emptiness inside me is a physical wound. I need... I need...

“Alpha.” The word escapes without permission, a broken plea in the darkness. “Please, Alpha...” My voice sounds foreign to my own ears, raw with desperation.

The closet door bursts open, flooding the space with light and alpha pheromones. Adrian and Zane fill the doorway, their massive frames blocking out everything else. Their scents make me keen.

Something's missing. Someone'smissing. I register the absence immediately, distress adding to the cocktail of desperate emotions flooding my system. The scent of leather and pine should be here, completing the trinity of scents that my body wants together.

“Cole,” I whimper, surprising myself with the need in my voice. “Where's Cole?”

Chapter Twelve

Adrian

The corridor outside Mira's room is a cage. Zane and I pace the length of it, our footsteps silent on the thick carpet. Her scent drifts under the door, sweet sugared lilac twisted with pain and desire and something bitter that makes my alpha nature rage. She's suffering, and we can't help her. Each whimper that filters through the solid wood hits me like a physical blow.

“She needs us. She’s hurting so badly.” Zane’s hands clench and unclench at his sides. His scent carries notes of frustrated alpha that match my own. I've never seen him this on edge, this close to losing control.

My cock throbs against my zipper. Sweet venom floods my mouth with each turn of my restless pacing, its taste a constant reminder of what waitsbehind that door. The pressure is unbearable, my knot already swelling despite the lack of direct stimulation. My physical discomfort is nothing compared to her whimpers through the door, knowing she's fighting her heat when every fiber of my being exists to protect and comfort her. No omega should fear their heat. This should be a time of rejoicing. Of connection. Instead, she’s terrified.

Zane peers at me with wild eyes, his hands clenching in his hair. “Why is she fighting this so badly? I just want to go in there and take away her pain. Why isn't—”

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