Page 95 of Hot Knot Summer
I collapse onto his bed, not bothering to dry off or dress. The sheets soak through immediately, but I don’t care. I curl around his pillow, inhaling deeply, searching for any trace of his scent that might provide even the smallest comfort.
Another wave of heat crashes over me, drawing a whimper from my parched throat. My body is on fire, burning, every nerve ending raw and screaming. The slick between my thighs is almost constant now, my core clenching rhythmically around nothing, desperately seeking what it needs.
How ironic that after years of insisting I need no one, of building my identity around my independence, I’m reduced to this—an Omega in desperate need of her Alphas. Not just any Alphas, but these three specifically.
The realization should terrify me more than it does. Instead, there’s a strange peace in finally admitting the truth—I need them. All three of them. In a way, I’ve never needed anyone before.
The heat builds again, a tidal wave of need and pain that tears a broken sob from my throat. I press my face into River’s pillow, inhaling desperately for any trace of his scent, any whisper of comfort in this torment.
“Please,” I whisper, the word a prayer to deities I don’t believe in. “Please help me.”
17
ATLAS
“All clear, Chief Wood. Final readings show no trace of gas.”
I nod at the technician, relief washing through me after three grueling hours containing what could have been a catastrophic situation. The elementary school’s ancient gas system had finally given out, sending dangerous levels of methane through the entire east wing. Evacuating three hundred children and staff without causing panic had been a challenge, but one my team handled with practiced efficiency.
“Good work,” I tell him, rolling my shoulders to release some of the tension that’s been building since the emergency call came in early this morning. “Have your team do one more sweep of the classrooms before the technicians clear the building for re-entry.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turn to find River helping the maintenance staff secure the newly repaired valve while Levimeticulously documents the entire incident for his safety report. My pack. My team. Pride swells in my chest, watching them work so seamlessly together.
With the immediate danger passed, I start removing my gear, the heavy jacket first, then the breathing apparatus we’d worn as a precaution while working near the leak. The weight of responsibility lifts from my shoulders with each piece I shed. No injuries, no structural damage, crisis averted.
My thoughts drift to Emma as I pack away the equipment. How is she doing back at the cabin? I’d hated leaving her this morning, especially after what River shared about their night together. She’d looked so peaceful sleeping in his bed, that cascade of honey-blond hair spread across his pillow, her face relaxed in a way I’d rarely seen since meeting her.
The memory of our time on the watchtower balcony surfaces—her taste, her sounds, the way she’d come apart under my mouth. The attraction between us has been undeniable. And now, she’d formed similar bonds with both River and Levi.
In my fifteen years as an Alpha, I’ve never felt this kind of immediate, powerful pull toward an Omega, especially not one who simultaneously connects with my entire pack.
I reach for my phone in the truck to check the time, seeing I’d left it behind during the emergency response as per protocol. The screen lights up, revealing missed calls and urgent text messages.
All from Emma.
“Shit,” I mutter, quickly opening the first voicemail. Her voice comes through, strained and uncertain.
“H-hey. It’s me. I kinda need to speak to you urgently. Please call me. I just... Just call me.”
My blood runs cold. Did something happen to her?
“River! Levi!” I call, urgency sharpening my words to a command. They both look up instantly, responding to the Alpha tone. “We need to go. Now.”
They’re at my side in seconds.
“What’s wrong?” Levi demands, already packing up his documentation.
I hold up my phone, showing them Emma’s message. “Emma’s been trying to reach us.”
Both of them suddenly scramble to grab their phones from the truck and listen to their messages.
I check the timestamp. “First one came in over an hour ago.”
“Shit, shit, shit, she just said she’s in full heat,” River mutters, already moving toward the exit. “We need to go. Right now.”
Fuck! An Omega in heat, alone, with no Alpha support, is more than uncomfortable; it’s dangerous. The pain can become excruciating and the fever dangerously high without intervention.
