38. Aria

38

ARIA

I jolt awake, my skin tingling and my body aching with a familiar, urgent need. The pack house suddenly feels vast and exposed, like I’m a small animal in an open field. I need my nest, my space, but all my things are at my apartment. Panic claws at my throat as I realize my heat is approaching faster than anticipated, a runaway train I can’t control.

As I scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet, my mind races. Am I ready to be so vulnerable, so needy, in front of my alphas? The omega in me purrs at the thought, but another part, the fiercely independent Aria I’ve fought so hard to become, bristles at the idea of losing control.

The cool morning air hits my feverish skin as I throw on clothes, not caring if they match. I need to get to my apartment before I lose myself to this heat and my alphas.

Rushing downstairs, I almost collide with Malachi. His scent envelops me, nearly drawing a whimper of need from my traitorous body, but I can’t. Not yet. Not until I’m ready. Not until I’m sure.

“Aria?” His voice is rough with concern, his eyes dark with something that makes my insides clench. “What’s wrong?”

I swallow hard, finding my voice. “I need to go to my apartment. My heat is coming faster than I thought. I need my things.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes, followed quickly by a flash of what might be panic. It’s oddly comforting to see that he’s as thrown by this as I am. Without a word, he grabs his keys. “I’ll drive you.”

The car ride is silent, tension thick in the air like a heavy fog. I feel Malachi’s gaze on me, concern and something else radiating off him in waves, but he doesn’t push. He just drives, giving me space to gather myself. It’s one of the things I love about him—his ability to be there without smothering me.

We pull up to my apartment building, and I’m out of the car before it fully stops. “I’ll be back,” I call over my shoulder, not waiting for a response. I can feel Malachi’s eyes on me as I rush inside, his protective instincts probably going haywire, but this is something I need to do alone.

My apartment feels like a sanctuary as I burst through the door. Familiar scents—my soaps, laundry detergent, me—wash over me, calming my frazzled nerves. For a moment, I’m tempted to barricade myself in here and ride out my heat alone like I’ve always done. It would be easier and safer.

As I start grabbing blankets, pillows, and anything soft I can find, I realize I don’t want easy or safe anymore. I want my pack. The thought terrifies me as much as it thrills me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out while stuffing a pillow into a bag. It’s Cayenne. “Hey, girl. We’re on our way with the heat supplies. You okay?”

I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Maybe I can do this after all. “Yeah, just… It’s coming faster than I thought. I’m at my apartment, grabbing stuff for my nest.”

“We’ll be there in ten. Hang tight.”

I continue my frantic packing, throwing clothes and toiletries into bags. My mind races, a jumble of thoughts, fears, and needs. What if I’m not ready? What if the pack isn’t ready? What if I lose myself in them?

A knock interrupts my spiral. I open the door to find Cayenne, Ginger, and Willow, their arms laden with bags. The sight of my best friends nearly brings me to tears.

“Cavalry’s here!” Cayenne announces, marching in with her usual flair. “Let’s get you sorted, honey.”

They sweep in like a whirlwind, efficiently organizing my chaos. Ginger packs food and drinks, her movements quick and sure. “You’re going to need your strength.” She winks, tossing a protein bar my way.

Willow sorts through the heat supplies, explaining each item as she goes. Her calm voice is soothing, grounding me in the midst of my panic. “Remember, Aria, you’re in control. These are tools, not rules.”

Cayenne hugs me, letting me breathe in her familiar scent. “It’s okay to be scared,” she whispers. “But you’ve got this, and you’ve got us.”

I nod against her shoulder, drawing strength from her presence. When we pull apart, I feel steadier and more in control. These women are my rock. My pack is my heart, but these friends are my backbone.

As we finish packing, I look around my apartment. It feels strange to be leaving it, knowing I’m heading into something so life-changing, but I’m not alone. I have my friends, my pack, and most importantly, I have myself.

“Ready?” Willow asks, holding the last bag.

I take a deep breath, straightening my shoulders. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

As we head out, bags in tow, I catch sight of myself in the hallway mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes are bright with a mix of fear and excitement, but there’s something else there too—determination and strength. I may be an omega, but I’m not weak. I’m Aria, and I’m about to show my alphas exactly what that means.

Malachi’s waiting in the car, his posture as tense as a bowstring. When he sees us emerge from the building, loaded down with bags, his eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t comment, just helps us load everything into the car. His hand brushes mine as he takes a bag, and the contact sends a jolt through me that has nothing to do with my approaching heat.

We pile into Malachi’s SUV, a tangle of limbs and laughter. I’m sandwiched between Ginger and Willow in the back seat, with Cayenne riding shotgun. The air is thick with our mingled scents—spicy cinnamon, fresh ginger, soothing lavender, and my own orange creamsicle, tinged with the first hints of an approaching heat.

Malachi starts the car, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I sense his tension and see the way his jaw clenches as he catches whiffs of my preheat scent, but he remains focused on the road ahead. Always the steady alpha, my Malachi.

The drive back to the pack house blurs into chatter and laughter. My friends keep up a steady stream of conversation, sharing stories of their own heat experiences and offering last-minute advice.

“Remember,” Willow says, her voice soft but firm, “it’s okay to ask for what you need. Your alphas want to take care of you, but they can’t read your mind.”

Ginger nods enthusiastically. “And don’t forget to hydrate! Trust me, you do not want to deal with heat cramps on top of everything else.”

“Oh! And make sure to have a safe word,” Cayenne chimes in from the front seat. “Something easy to remember, even when you’re… you know, in the throes of it.”

I feel my cheeks heat up at her words, but I nod gratefully. These are all things I need to hear, even if they make me blush. It’s a stark reminder that this heat isn’t just about pleasure, but it’s also about vulnerability, trust, and communication.

As we pull up to the pack house, I see the rest of the pack waiting on the porch. Quinn’s practically vibrating with energy, his honey gold eyes alight with excitement. Zane leans against a post, trying—and failing—to look nonchalant, but I see tension in every line of his body. Dash grins from ear to ear, looking like he’s about to burst with excitement.

We tumble out of the car, and my friends form a protective circle around me. I see the alphas’ nostrils flare as they catch my scent, their eyes darkening with desire, but they keep their distance, respecting the barrier my friends have created. It’s a dance of instincts and respect, and I feel a surge of love for these men who are willing to put my needs first.

“Alright, boys,” Cayenne announces, her voice brooking no argument. “We have a nest to build. You can make yourselves useful by carrying the bags in.”

The next hour is a whirlwind of activity. We commandeer the master bedroom, transforming it into a cozy den perfect for my upcoming heat. My friends work with practiced efficiency, arranging blankets and pillows into a nest that looks so inviting, I have to resist the urge to dive right in.

Ginger takes charge of organizing the supplies, setting up a mini- ridge stocked with water and energy drinks, and placing snacks within easy reach. Willow hangs blackout curtains to keep the room dark and cool, while Cayenne fusses over the arrangement of the nest, making sure it’s just right.

The alphas hover at the edges of the room, looking both eager to help and completely out of their element. I catch Dash eyeing a particularly fluffy pillow with interest, only to have his hand slapped away by Cayenne.

“Uh-uh, mister,” she scolds. “No alpha scents in the nest until Aria’s ready.”

Dash pouts, his puppy dog eyes in full effect. “But it looks so comfy…”

I can’t help but laugh at his antics, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Trust Dash to find humor in this intense situation.

Quinn, ever the problem solver, is fiddling with the thermostat, muttering about optimal heat management algorithms. “If we adjust the temperature by 0.5 degrees every hour, we can create the perfect environment for?—”

“Quinn,” Zane interrupts, his voice gruff but tinged with affection, “I think Aria can manage her own temperature.”

I shoot Zane a grateful look, and he gives me a small nod in return. Of all my alphas, he seems to understand my need for control the most.

As the nest nears completion, a wave of emotion washes over me. This is really happening. I’m about to experience my first heat with my bonded pack. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

“You okay, honey?” Willow asks, noticing my sudden stillness.

I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, just… overwhelmed. In a good way, I think.”

She pulls me into a hug, and soon, I’m enveloped in a group embrace, my friends surrounding me with their love and support.

“You’ve got this, Aria,” Ginger whispers fiercely. “You’re the strongest omega I know.”

“And we’re just a phone call away if you need anything,” Cayenne adds. “Anything at all.”

As we break apart, I catch sight of my alphas watching us from the doorway. Their eyes are soft with affection, and I feel a surge of love for these men who are willing to let me have this moment with my friends.

“Oh.” Cayenne snaps her fingers. “One more thing.” By the devilish look in her eyes, I know this is going to go one of two ways.

One, I’m going to want to throw something at her.

Two, I’ll hug her.

“Give it to me.” I brace myself for impact.

“Double penetration.” She wags her brows.

I’m too shocked to even say anything.

“Oh!” Ginger bounces from foot to foot. “Double knot penetration.”

“Is that a thing?” Willow gasps as though she is offended, but her crimson cheeks tell me she is more than interested.

I feel my face flush scarlet, a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal coursing through me. “Guys!” I hiss, glancing nervously at the alphas still hovering in the doorway. Their expressions range from shocked—Quinn—to intrigued—Dash—to downright predatory—Zane and Malachi.

“What?” Cayenne says innocently. “Just throwing out some ideas. You have four alphas, so you might as well make the most of it.”

“I can’t believe we’re discussing this,” I grumble, burying my face in my hands, but a small part of me is definitely interested in exploring these possibilities.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Ginger says with a wink. “Trust me, it’s?—”

“Okay!” I interrupt, not sure I can handle any more details. “I think that’s enough advice for now. You guys should probably head out before… well, before things start getting intense.”

My friends exchange knowing looks then pull me into one last group hug. “Remember,” Willow whispers, “you’re in control. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want.”

As they file out of the room, each giving the alphas a stern look that clearly says take care of her or else , I’m left alone with my mates. The air is charged with anticipation and barely restrained desire.

“So,” Dash says, and I just freaking know that whatever is about to come out of his mouth is going to be salacious. “DP?”

“Oh my god.” I groan. “Out, all of you!”

Laughter wraps around me as I kick everyone out.

I just need a moment to myself before, well…

The double penetration.