25. Jasmine

I don't know what comes first – the piercing whistle that lifts every hair on my body, or the thunderous gunfire that makes my blood run cold. But Patrick is throwing his arm across our bodies, pieces of the moldy ceiling raining down like the world is coming to an end.

"Garth's here!" Grace tells me, squeezing my waist with a beaming smile. "I can sense him through the bond."

But as we rush for the stairs, they're blocked by a stocky figure. It's so dark I can only tell it's Quinn by the acrid stench of his alpha sweat. He's breathing hard, wheezing through what I hope is a hole in his lungs. But his steps are steady, and there's no mistaking the sound of a round being chambered as he lifts his arm in our direction.

"It's pointed right at her pretty face, lad," he tells Patrick, his weight creaking on the bottom step. "But test my eyesight if you don't mind picking her brains out of your hair."

"Shoot him, Patrick!" I hiss. "He's bluffing!"

But Quinn laughs. "He knows me too well to risk it. Just like I know my boy always brings a knife to a gun flight."

"I'm not your fucking boy," Patrick snarls.

But Quinn ignores him, still apparently talking to me. "Did he tell you I raised him from a pup? I had a whole pack of boys just like him back in Ireland."

"By raising you must mean beating and starving," Patrick says coldly. "We drank from dirty horse troughs and fought for scraps your dogs wouldn't eat."

"Ah, what's with the whining? A little hardship gave you an edge. Without my guiding hand, you would have stayed the runt of the litter all your life. And then what pack would want you?" When Patrick doesn't reply, Quinn edges around us. "Now, I'm going to take the tunnel out of here, and you're gonna stay right where you are. Do I need to command you, boy?"

"No," Patrick says in a quiet voice. I can't tell what he's thinking, so I slip my hand into his. It's frigid to the touch, and after one small squeeze he pulls away. "I don't take commands anymore, Eammon."

"Is that right?" The older man's voice is mocking. "Well, let's do it anyway, for old time's sake."

Patrick stiffens against me, and when Quinn says something in Irish, I feel the throb of alpha dominance in the air. But instead of dropping to his knees, Patrick steps towards him. "No," he says again, just as quietly, and right as the other man lunges in our direction, fires Kayden's gun in Quinn's face. I jump and Grace cries out in shock, but Quinn doesn't make a sound until his body hits the ground with a wet thud. My heart is pounding, Grace's hand clinging to my arm. But Patrick just takes a lighter from his pocket, the flame dancing in the darkness as he rolls Quinn's body into the corner with his boot.

"Grace!" Garth's howl splits the air, footsteps pounding overhead as the lights click back on. I'm still blinking away spots when her mate leaps down the stairs, almost yanking off the banister as he pulls her into his arms. She makes a soft squawk of protest, but her arms wind around his neck as he lifts her off her feet. He's shooting questions at her, but mostly he's just smothering her in kisses, and I turn to look up at Patrick.

"Are you okay?" His face is a mess, and blood is still oozing from his shoulder wound, but we both know I don't mean those injuries. "He was wrong, just so you know. If he treated you like that, then you were never his, and any pack would be lucky to have you."

His lips tilt up in a small smile, but then a pair of gorgeous cowboy boots are pounding down the stairs. Long legs and a cute butt follow, Declan's eyes blowing wide with relief as they land on me. "They're here!" he yells over his shoulder, swooping me into his arms. I have a single moment to question him – to wonder if this is the man or the lie – and then I see the tears in his eyes and the blood on his lips. Whatever he's done, he's done it for me.

"Sweet girl," he croons, "I thought you'd gone and broken my heart."

I pull back, ready to tell him something just as sweet, but Erik and Xavier are only a few steps behind, and I squirm to widen the embrace. We cling to each other, my body humming with happiness until Erik pulls back and peers down at me in concern. "Jasmine, you're burning up."

"It's her heat," Xavier says quietly, grabbing a blanket off one of the security guys crowding the stairs. He wraps it around my shoulders, his hand pressed against my cheek. Something dark and deadly flickers in his eyes, but his voice is gentle as he says, "Come on, sweetheart. We need to get you home."

I nod, glad to lean on them as we head upstairs. There's a maze of dark passageways until we're stopped at the front door by the security team. I lean into Erik, whose lips keep brushing the top of my head. "I'm so glad you're okay," I tell him. "I thought…"

"Me, too. And I don't know what I would've done if…" His voice trails off, just like mine did.

"But you came," I tell him, hating the haunted look in his eyes. "And Patrick was there the whole time. Nobody hurt me, Erik."

He frowns, but then leans across Declan to grasp Patrick's shoulder. "I owe you, brother. We all do."

"And we'll owe you even more if you tell your guys to get out of our way," Declan adds, craning his neck to look out the door. The Rose Pack's security team are triple checking the perimeter, their SUVs blocking the drive. "They move slower than molasses."

"Not my guys," Patrick says with that small smile again. "I just quit. Effective immediately." Xavier looks at him sharply, but Patrick shrugs. "Conflict of interest. Or maybe I just want to focus on what's important." His gaze slides to mine. "But Garth's offered up his charter. It'll get us back to the city before your heat gets too bad."

"What about you?" I turn to Grace, who's still cuddled against her alpha. Even with his arms wrapped protectively around her, I'm certain she's as desperate as I am to get the hell away from this place. "We can go together, can't we?"

"Our pack is on their way here," she tells me, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Garth's going to sort out a few things while we wait, and then we'll head home. I'm fine, I promise. And your heat's what matters now."

There's a sparkle in her eyes as she adds that last bit, but I just nod, too worn out to worry about the logistics. My heat – whatever that's going to look like – is a whole other hurdle to navigate. But right now? I just want to get home and crawl into bed with my pack.

Which proves easier than expected when you have four bossy alphas and a private jet at your disposal. I barely notice the flight, napping on Erik's shoulder the whole way. And then we're whisked from the airport to the club by a contrite Bowie. I keep telling them it was no one's fault, but the tension doesn't ease until we're pulling into the garage. Erik scoops me off the back seat, but as soon as we step into the elevator, it's like a switch is flipped. I don't know if it's because we're sharing a confined space, or because my body knows I'm finally safe, but a wave of heat has me mewling in need.

There's an interesting moment when they all just look at each other, and I groan in frustration. "Seriously? No one's going to kiss me?"

Declan chuckles and pokes Erik in the ribs. "You're the closest, Alpha. But if you're not feelin' up to it…?"

The growl that rattles out of Erik's chest would soak my panties, if I was wearing any. "Mine," he says simply, lowering his head to run his nose from my temple to my scent gland. It's a torturous tease, but it's also a perfect start, and I arch up into his mouth when it finally latches onto mine.

There's a lingering trace of violence on his tongue, but as he deepens the kiss, all I can taste is his need. Thankfully, it's as desperate as mine. With a low hum, he swings me around, bracing me against the wall. I wrap my legs around him and the blanket falls away, leaving me in nothing but Patrick's shirt. It's good, but not good enough for the heat pulsing in my core, and I squirm to get closer. Erik's hand slides under my ass, coating the palm in my slick. When he lifts it to his mouth, licking it clean, my eyes roll back in my head. I'm pretty sure I could come just like this if the elevator didn't reach our floor.

"Violet?" I murmur distractedly as we head down the hallway.

"She's with Kelly and Casper in the media room," Xavier says. "We told her you're fine, but she knows about your heat. Do you want to stop by and talk to her?"

I grimace at the thought of my baby sister seeing me like this. But I definitely need Casper here. Like yesterday. "I want a shower, but could you ask her to come by straight after? And maybe you could ask Casper to…"

"Get his cute butt up here right now?" Declan shoots me a wink. "I'm on it, darlin'."

As he heads to the stairwell, I realize we've stopped outside Xavier's room. I've walked by it, of course, but I haven't really explored it yet, and I slither out of Erik's arms, looking around curiously.

"You can change anything you need," Xavier says as I turn in a slow circle. It's definitely his room, with antique furniture and framed oil paintings on the wall. But there are softer touches too, like the gold-flecked wallpaper, sheepskin rug, and gray silk drapes. If anything, it reminds me of Declan's dressing room; both cozy and masculine at the same time. And of course, then there's the bed, which is really the nest by which every other nest should be judged.

I've seen nests in magazines, and my father bought one for my room after the first injection. They always left a sour taste in my mouth, for obvious reasons, but there's no way I can feel like that about this bed. Because it already smells like pack, and the linens – all gold and gray and soft blue – make my fingers twitch to touch them.

"Shower first," Xavier reminds me, and I give him a rueful look as he leads me into the ensuite. But my eyes pop wide as I take in the beautiful space. It's like his spa room, but on a whole new level, with a steam shower, Japanese soaking tub, and an end-to-end vanity in white gold marble with silk-topped ottomans. The fixtures are all warm metals, with pale blue textured walls and more sheepskin rugs on the geometric tiles. It's luxury on a level I've never seen, even in the splendor of the Rose Tower.

"And you're just showing me this now?" I ask as I drift to the shower. It has fancy dials and vents, and I can't wait to try them out. "I thought we were courting, Xavier."

He rubs his chin, looking around a little wistfully. "It's my favorite room in the residence. And if you decided you didn't want to stay…"

"It would ruin it?" I shake my head at him, leaning against his broad chest. "You know how to turn me to mush, Xavier."

"Then let me undress you while you're still standing."

I hum as Erik leans against the vanity and watches his packmate release my shirt buttons, one by one. I know they hate that it's bloodstained, but I have to wonder if they object to the smell as well. "It's Patrick's," I tell them as Xavier carefully peels it off my shoulders. "I know it's ruined, but I don't want to throw it out. He covered me as soon as he got free, and I think it kept me from losing it. The smell…"

"Salted caramel," Erik says quietly. "It's the scent bond. And it smells amazing."

"Really?" I look at him in surprise. "Is this a truce?"

"Patrick looked after you when we couldn't," Xavier explains, running his fingers through my hair. "Whatever he needs, he can ask it of us."

I absorb that for a moment, but then another wave of heat rolls through me and I clutch Xavier's arm. He's still in his suit while I'm naked, and Erik is covered in so much blood and grime, it's a toss-up who needs a shower more. "Will you come in with me? I ask them, looking from one to the other.

Erik whips his henley off so fast, I laugh. Xavier watches us for a moment, then pulls a face. "Peter is on his way to check everyone over. I'll go and make sure he can get past Bowie and the boys."

I nod, accepting the fact that a threesome in the shower might be a bit more than I can handle right now. And besides, I'm happily distracted by Erik as he peels off his boots and pants. It's the first time I've seen him completely bare and it's an impressive sight. He's big all over, both from genetics and hard work, with a thick patch of hair on his tanned chest and abdominal muscles that clench with the slightest movement. And those hard bulges and dips lead down to Erik's gorgeous cock, already half-hard and with his knot on proud display. The sight of it pulls at my belly, more slick trickling down my thighs as I imagine it buried deep inside me.

His warm brown eyes roam over me as he opens the shower door. He quickly sets the temperature on the control panel, perfectly warm water cascading over us as steam swirls out of the vent. "I could stand in here all day," I groan, leaning into his arms.

"It's good for your cramps, but you'll overheat in a couple of minutes." When I smirk at him, he rubs a hand over his face. "But you're not looking for a field assessment right now."

"I love that you look out for me," I reply, pressing my mouth to his chest and capturing a trickle of water on my tongue. It tastes like spice and anticipation, and I'm almost purring as his hand clasps the back of my head. His mouth pulls a slow kiss from mine, his other arm sliding around my back. I feel safe, supported, and while I'm too short to press my hips against his, it puts me in tantalizing reach of his cock. My mouth waters as it flexes against his belly, and I run a hand up the steel shaft, my head spinning with need. "I want to suck you, down on my knees."

"That's the heat talking, sweetheart," he says, his breath catching as I squeeze the swollen head. It's like silk against my palm, and I have to rub my thighs together for a little relief. Erik shakes his head, his hand slamming against the wall like he needs the support to stay upright. His eyes burn with arousal as he stares down at me, but he swallows hard. "We need to get you clean and into bed. And I'm pretty sure Xavier's going to make us both see Peter first."

"Plus, I want to see Violet," I moan, my hand still flexing around his shaft. I'm desperate to see my little sister with my own eyes, but the scent of Erik's pre-cum is making me drool.

"But that doesn't mean I can't squeeze in a quickie." I blink at him as his face splits in a wide grin. "Give, not receive, I mean. And quick for me, but hopefully satisfying for you."

Since I can't find fault with that plan, I let him edge us over to the stone bench. He lifts a leg, fitting me into the crook of his hip. "Put your leg up next to mine and lean back against me. I won't let you fall; I promise."

It leaves me balancing on one foot, and my muscles are already starting to melt in the heat. But as I lean back into him, Erik squirts body wash into his hand and starts soaping my breasts. I jolt, surprised by how sensitive they are, and his chest rumbles behind me. "Do they hurt?"

"Just an ache," I tell him, moaning as he gently rubs my nipples. It's the perfect blend of pleasure and discomfort and I reach back, gripping his thick thigh. "Everything feels both swollen and empty at the same time."

"That's because your body is getting ready to take us." His hands move down my sides, skimming my belly and rubbing the top of my mound. The scent of the perfumed wash is lovely, but it's nothing on the primal scent coming from his cock. This position leaves me open, and I rub myself back against him, feeling his thick shaft sliding over my stretched crack. When my nails dig into his thigh, he hisses and dips a hand between my legs. "You feel so beautiful, Jasmine. Skin like silk and curves made for my hands."

It's ingrained in me to brush off his compliments. To tell him my exterior is just a pretty disguise. But the words drift away like mist, the ache between my legs growing as he slides a thick finger inside me. My nub swells and throbs as he rubs it with his thumb, my legs shaking as I ride his hand. It's just me and Erik in that steamy cocoon, and as he pinches my clit, I cry out and gush all over his hand.

"That's what I like to hear," Casper says, materializing like a vision. He cocks his head as he leans against the shower door, a blissful smile on his pouty lips. "Nothing prettier than the sound you make when you come, sweetheart."