Page 67 of Stream Heat
holy shit did you see how they all reacted
PROTECTIVE ALPHA MODE ACTIVATED
someone clip this omg
I could feel myself spiraling. The humiliation mixed with the panic, which mixed with the need, and suddenly it was impossible to keep all the pieces of myself together. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not another public crash, not when thousands of people were watching.
“Ash,” Reid’s voice sliced through everything else, all Alpha command, no room for argument. “Kill the stream. Now.”
Ash’s fingers were already flying on his keyboard, but before he could cut the broadcast, another wave crashed over me, more intense than anything yet. This time, the sound that escaped me was a whimper, desperate and high-pitched, the kind of noise that only came out of an Omega in full-blown heat, the kind that broadcast to everyone in a ten-mile radius that an Alpha was needed.
The effect on the five of them was immediate and almost violent.
They moved at once, forming a wall around me that blocked the cameras, just in case. Reid stepped right in front of me, his broad back absorbing the main shot. Theo and Malik flanked him, sealing off the view with Alpha bodies. Jace pressed close to my right, near enough to shield but never touching. Ash wasa blur of motion, terminating the broadcast while watching me like he expected me to fall apart at any second.
“Stream’s down,” Ash said, voice clipped, as the red recording lights died.
The second that happened, my body just…folded. I slumped forward, forehead pressed to the tabletop, trying to cool my skin against the fake wood laminate. “I’m sorry,” I breathed, heat and humiliation crawling through me like a fever. “I thought I could…I thought the suppressants would–”
“Don’t apologize,” Reid interrupted, the Alpha edge softer now but still impossible to ignore. “You’re sick. This isn’t your fault.”
“We need to get her to her room,” Malik said, quiet but steady. “This heat is ramping up too fast.”
If I had any coherent thoughts left, I would’ve protested. Claimed I could walk. Said I didn’t need help. But another contraction of need hit and my spine bowed, my body desperate for anything that would fill the emptiness pulsing between my thighs.
“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I wanted, distance, touch, both? Just anything other than this raw, gutting ache.
They didn’t need to discuss it. Reid moved, gathering me up and out of the chair like I weighed nothing. His scent was everywhere, dark and grounding, and the second his chest pressed against my side, another rush of slick heat flooded between my legs.
“Alpha,” I breathed, as if it were the only word left in my vocabulary. My hands knotted in his shirt, needing more, wanting everything, shame and instinct fighting for control in my head.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his jaw tight. Holding himself together just as much as he was holding on to me. “We’re going to help you, Kara. Just hold on.”
I barely registered the trip to my room. There was just the pulse of his body and the presence of the others behind us, their scents weaving in and out, comforting and making everything worse at the same time. Each step was a shockwave.
Reid set me on the bed. The second he let go, I curled around his hoodie. I didn’t even remember grabbing it, but it was the only thing anchoring me. I buried my face in the fabric, trying to breathe him in, desperate for anything that dulled the need.
“What do you need?” Malik asked, not coming closer, but his concern was so thick I could taste it. “Water? Medication?”
What I needed was so much bigger than that, so much uglier. I needed a knot. I needed all of them, taking turns, filling the emptiness until I could breathe again. The realization hit like a punch to the gut, shattering what little pride I had left. I squirmed, hips grinding into the mattress, fighting to find relief that wasn’t there.
“Please,” I gasped, way past shame, too far gone to act normal. “It hurts. Make it stop.”
The five of them exchanged a look. There was a moment of tense, silent communication. Every one of them was strung tight, torn between instinct and what their brains knew was right.
“Quinn,” Reid said, dropping his voice into that Alpha tone that went all the way down, “we need your clear consent. What exactly are you asking for?”
The question cut through the need, forced me to think for a heartbeat. What was I asking for? For all of them to fuck me through the heat? To make the pack bonds Dr. Levine talked about? To cross a line none of us could uncross?
Before I could answer, another wave ripped through me, so overwhelming that tears ran down my cheeks. “Fuck me,” I begged, voice shaking. “Please, Alpha. Any of you. All of you. I need–I need–”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. I just moaned, back arching, desperate for even a scrap of contact.
I saw the war in their faces. Instinct and want and ethics all tearing at each other. None of them were mindless, rut-drunk assholes; they were trying so hard to do things the right way, even as their biology practically screamed at them to claim me.
“We can’t,” Malik said, as gently as he could, but the effort in his voice was obvious. “Not like this. Not when you’re not in your right mind.”
“I know what I’m asking,” I bit back, furious that they wouldn’t just do what I needed. “I’m not fragile. I want this. I want you.”
