Something in me snaps. I’m already turning, ready to drag him into the street and break his jaw for even thinking he had the right.
“Stop,” she says sharply.
I stop, but it takes effort. My blood’s roaring, rage flooding every inch of me. I’m trying to stay grounded, trying to listen, but the image of him touching her makes it nearly impossible.
“Noah,” she says, voice strained.
I turn just in time to see her eyes flicker, glowing almost, before she stumbles forward, hands clutching the counter.
A soft sound escapes her lips, somewhere between a whine and a gasp, and then her scent hits me like a brick wall.
Heat.
Cora’s in heat.
She lets out another broken sound, knees folding slightly as she presses her palm flat against her stomach.
I move fast, catching her before she slips to the floor. Her skin burns through her clothes, her breath quick and uneven. The bakery, already warm, suddenly feels stifling.
Every instinct in me locks onto her. The scent is too strong, syrup-thick and intoxicating, crowding out everything else.
I glance toward the door just as it opens.
Julian and Elias step inside, and the second they inhale, they freeze. Their eyes darken almost instantly, hunger written across their features.
The air is heavy now. Full of her. I can smell the arousal rolling off her in waves, and I know they can too.
I shove down the part of me that wants to bare my teeth.
“You need to leave,” I growl, voice low and dangerous.
Neither of them moves.
“I said, get the fuck out,” I snap. “I’ll take care of her.”
Cora whimpers again and curls in on herself, arms wrapping tight around her middle as if she can fight off what’s coming.
I crouch beside her, hand on her back, but she’s burning up. Sweat beads at her temple, and her breath is shallow.
The two Alphas stay rooted near the door, clearly torn, muscles coiled like they’re waiting for her to choose them.
She cries out, not a scream, but a desperate plea. “Help me.”
That sound wrecks me.
“Out,” I bark. “Now. Or I’ll throw you out.”
They hesitate, but Julian is the first to turn and head toward the door. Elias lingers a second longer, then finally backs up.
I expect them to leave, but I watch as he fastens the lock. They aren’t leaving.
I turn back to her. Her cheeks are flushed, pupils blown wide. She’s trying so hard to fight it, but her body’s already given in.
Her leggings are damp at the thighs, and the scent between her legs is dizzying. Every Alpha instinct in me screams to take, to claim, but I won’t—not like this.
I lift her carefully and carry her behind the counter, setting her on the small couch in the office where she sometimes naps during long shifts. She clings to me, nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“You’re okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”