37. Meggie

37

Meggie

W hy are we here? We're supposed to be in my nest. I need my nest. My nest, and my alphas. The scent of wood smoke and summer nights surrounds me, but it's not enough. Where are the rest of them? I need them.

I whimper and squirm in my alpha's arms. Why are there layers between us? Why is there anything between us?

Everything feels wrong. My skin is too tight. My clothes, coarse and itchy. The lights are blindingly bright. My stomach cramps, my insides aching to be filled. So empty.

"I need…"

"Shh," his husky voice calms me only slightly. "I've got you, love." The pet name makes me think of old whiskey and sex on the floor by a fire. My alpha. "We're almost there, and then I'm going to take care of you."

Yes, that's what I want. My alpha to take care of me. All of my alphas. I need them touching me, kissing me, fucking me, knotting me. Biting. I need their bites.

"P-please. Can't… wait." Words are hard. Too hard. I kiss him and rub myself against him as he carries me.

"Fuck." His steps falter.

"This room," someone says. "In here."

No, not someone. Another alpha. Mine. Minty kisses on porch swings.

I try to pull my shirt off, needing to remove the repulsive barrier. But can't manage it.

Finally, my alpha is setting me down on a soft bed. Not my bed. Not my nest. It smells like laundry detergent and the chemical smell of cheap scent neutralizers. But it's a bed, and a bed is what I need.

"Knot me," I beg. "Please, alpha, knot me."

Someone takes off my shirt. Sandy beaches and pineapple cocktails. Someone else slips off my shoes and pulls off my sweat pants. Strong oak trees and summer breezes.

My alphas.

My pack alpha—the one I haven't had. He hovers over me, naked, finally naked. I caress his skin, petting him, unable to get enough.

He turns his head to the left, looking at another of my alphas. A bouquet of tiny white flowers drenched with summer rain.

"You'll make sure I don't bite her?" My alpha asks.

"No!" I protest so loudly they all startle. Don't they understand? Don't they see I'm theirs? I need to be theirs fully. "Bite me."

"Shh, it's okay, honey." The term of endearment stirs thoughts of sticky sweet lips and limbs. "Remember your promise to me?" Lemonade, drunk with shots of vodka under a hot summer sun. "Remember, you told me I can bite you first?"

I shake my head, whining as I buck my hips. The conversation, too much for me to take in. Why aren't they fucking me?

"We're going to bond you, baby girl. But we need you to be patient."

"Nooo—" My long low whine cuts off when my alpha's tongue strokes the fire between my legs. "Yes. Yes!"

I gasp and groan as he laps at my center. The scent of all the best moments of summer washes over me. I feel heady with it, dizzy, and shaky, and so hot and sweaty. And still it's not enough. "More. More!"