Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

W yatt

It’s the middle of the night, hours since we arrived at Daxton’s dad’s house, found Harper on the cusp of a heat and brought her home. She’s been fucked and knotted more times than my rut-fuddled brain can count, had so many orgasms I’m surprised all her nerves aren’t fried.

Now we are laid out together on the bed: sticky, sweaty, floating in bliss. Harper lies in the middle of us all, hands on her belly (rounded with come), head resting on Daxton’s thigh, legs curled over Owen’s side, hand clasped with mine.

“Are you thirsty, Harper? Hungry?” I ask her, stroking my thumb over her fingers.

“I am seriously full.” She pokes her belly and giggles. “Which is pretty incredible considering I didn’t eat–” Suddenly, her face fills with horror and she snaps upright. “Oh no!! Oh no, oh no, oh no!”

The three of us snap upright too, all alert and on edge.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She swings her head around frantically, rubbing her hands up and down her arms and attempting to scrabble off the bed.

“Did it just hit midnight or something?” Owen asks, brow creased. “Is this where we all turn into pumpkins and this dream ends?”

“Harper,” Daxton barks and she freezes in her tracks. “What is the matter?”

She swings her horrified face our way. “I never turned up. I never turned up to my dinner date.”

“And you’re upset about this because …” Daxton says, the irritation and hurt clear in his tone.

“Well, I’m assuming someone might notice I never showed up and that I’m missing. And then they’re going to start looking for me and–”

“Shit!” Owen says and then all of us are scrabbling off the bed, digging in our discarded clothes for our devices.

“It’ll be okay,” Owen reassures Harper, although, I’m wondering how we could be so careless. Harper’s mom will be worried sick.

And we’re about to be found out.

Harper finds her phone first, muffles a screech and wobbles on her feet.

I guide her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“50 missed calls! 50!” She taps on her phone. “From the pack. From Molly. From my mom. From your dad. They’re going frantic with worry. I need to call them.” She goes to press her thumb down on the device, then halts. “What am I going to tell them?! What should I say happened?!”

“You could tell them the truth,” Daxton says, peering up from his own phone.

Harper gapes at him. “Are you insane?” she yelps.

“Last time they checked, no.”

“You want me to tell my mom, who will tell your dad, that we’ve been …” All the color drains from her face.

Daxton tosses his cell on the bed. He’s in rut like the rest of us, and his hard cock bobs in front of him.

“I want you to be ours and that means we’re going to have to tell them.”

Harper looks at him even more shocked than before.

“You want to …” she shakes her head, and peers back down at her cell, “you’re in rut. You’re not thinking straight.”

Daxton emits a low, threatening growl. “I am thinking perfectly straight. You’re going to be ours.”

I focus on him, through the haze of my own rut. All my alpha instincts scream that he’s right. They want me rushing at the omega, pinning her to the bed, and sinking my teeth into her throat.

I drag my hand down my face and attempt to think clearly.

Is Daxton serious? Or is he just heat-high and pussy-inebriated?

“This is a discussion best had after Harper’s heat,” I tell him.

“I know how I–”

I hold up my hand and jerk my head in Harper’s direction. “You can’t expect her to make a decision that will affect the rest of her life when she’s doped on dick. This is a conversation for afterwards.” He glares at me. “And anyway,” I continue before Daxton can start arguing with me, “this is not the right way to break the news to your dad and your step-mom.”

“Yeah,” Owen agrees, collapsing down by Harper, phone in his hand. “You wanna ring up your dad and tell him – hey I’m in bed with my step-sister and we’re going to be fucking non-stop for the next three days?”

Harper lets out a squeak – made up of a combination of desire and fear. Owen rolls towards her, grips her waist and starts nibbling on her neck. She shivers, her eyes drawing closed and if we don’t focus soon, we’ll all be fucking again and not sorting out this problem.

“Harper!” I bark. Her eyelids fly open. “You need to message your mom. Tell her you went into heat and that you …” I scrabble around for a suitable cover-up.

“Went to stay with an omega friend,” Daxton says sulkily.

“She won’t believe me without proof,” Harper says, eyes straying to Owen. “All she’s talked about is omega kidnappings. She’s probably already called the cops.”

“Don’t you have a friend who can cover for you?” Owen asks, fingers walking up her side and circling her nipple.

Her eyes glaze over again and I have to bark at her a second time.

“Will you cut that out?” I tell Owen.

“She’s too delicious,” he says like he’s in pain. Like we aren’t all struggling here.

“A friend?” Harper says. Her eyes go in and out of focus. Then she cringes. “Molly.”

“She won’t tell?” I ask.

“I have a feeling that she had a feeling this was going to happen,” Harper mutters.

“Then message her now and then your mom.” I step towards her. “Do you need any help?”

She bites her tongue between her teeth and shakes her head. “I can do it.”

“And how about us?” Daxton asks, leaning against the bedroom door.

“Us?” I frown. My brain capabilities are serious hampered. I don’t know what he means.

“When we don’t show up for work for three days, when we disappear for three days, and those three days just happen to coincide with the three days Harper is missing in heat then …”

“Shit!” Owen says as he flops backwards on the bed, face buried in his hands.

I rack my brains, which is extremely challenging when my brain is full of thoughts and images of Harper. “I saw a patient with suspected Harold Virus a day ago. We message the hospital and inform them we’ve contracted it too and will have to be in quarantine for at least five days.”

“You think they’ll buy it? The chances of contracting that are slim.”

“But not impossible.” I swing my gaze around the other two. “Any better ideas?” They both shake their heads and I type out and send a message on my cell.

“Molly’s going to cover for us,” Harper says with a sigh of relief, “in return for all the nitty-gritty details.”

“Then message your mom.” Her thumbs move at the speed of lightning. She pauses a couple of times when her cell beeps to read a message, then starts typing again. Finally, with an even bigger sigh of relief, she tosses the cell to one side, and flops back next to Owen.

“Being an omega is seriously complicated sometimes,” she moans. “In fact, it quite often sucks donkey balls.”

“Yeah,” Owen says, rolling on top of her, and thrusting inside her as she opens her legs, “but there are also several advantages to being an omega.”

She pouts up at him, even as her skin flushes with desire and her body moves with his.

“Oh, are there? Such as?”

“Being fucked by an alpha, rutted by an alpha, knotted by an alpha.”

“I suppose it’s oh–oooooh!”

I climb onto the bed beside the two of them, Daxton climbing onto the mattress on their other side, and soon I’m consumed by Owen and Harper, and any other thoughts, worries and considerations float away.