Page 125 of Scrum Heat

Well, now I’m in her. Knotted, bonded, andhome.

I shift slightly, careful not to jostle her too much, and press a kiss to her jaw.

“I mean it, you know,” I murmur. “I’d never hurt you.”

Frankie tilts her face just enough to look at me, eyes half-lidded and a little hazy. She’s glowing; all flushed skin and bite marks and love.

“I know,” she whispers. “I feel it.”

Theo—because hecan’t help himself—groans dramatically beside us.

“Oh mygod,” he mutters. “I’m going to cry and throw up at the same time. You’re both disgusting.”

“You could leave,” I offer, deadpan.

(Even as I lift one arm to pull him closer.)

Theo flops over both of us with theatrical flair, his head landing on Frankie’s thigh like he’s been struck down by emotion.

“Absolutely not,” he sighs. “I earned this sandwich. I contributed. I demand post-coital praise and at least two hours of uninterrupted omega cuddles.”

Frankie hums sleepily, a soft smile pulling at her lips. She nuzzles into my chest, her fingers lazily stroking the back of Theo’s head.

“You did,” she says, eyes fluttering closed. “You both did.”

Theo lifts a finger without opening his eyes. “I’d like that on record.”

“Noted,” I murmur.

And then we just… stay like that.

Tangled, breathing, scent-wrapped and ruined.

Theo's arm drapes over my waist without comment. Frankie's leg slides over mine like she belongs there. My knot is still firm, still locking us together in that raw, undeniable way—and I don’t feel trapped. I feelanchored.

For once, I don’t feel like I have to lead, or fix, or figure anything out.

I just get to be here, with them.

It’s the part I didn’t know I was waiting for, but now that it’s here, I’m never letting go.

*

The gym’s quiet when we get there.

Frankie’s still asleep—curled up in the middle of a blanket pile that now smells like four alphas and a war crime—and I think we all needed to get out before one of us accidentally bonded with the kitchen table.

So here we are: bleary-eyed, sore, and back to our regular programming.

Except it’s anything but normal, since it’s our first morning as a real, actual,officialpack.

The gym already smells like rubber mats, steel, and testosterone.

“Only a few more days ‘til the semi,” I say, grabbing the clipboard off the wall. “We’re running pace drills, contact drills, and I want clean finishers. Denton Vale won’t give us space.”

Theo groans as he drops his bag. “You sound like Coach.”

“Coach likes winning,” I shoot back, strapping on my wrist wraps.

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